Setting: Spaaaaaace!

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob Taylor is hard at work in his starship's armory. He's in charge of maintaining an impressive array of assault rifles, heavy pistols, grenade launchers, and other implements of destruction and defense. Jacob's aware that the lives of his friends and crewmates might depend on the condition of these weapons. It's a job he takes seriously, and it's a job he's good at.

When your character enters, Jacob turns away from his electronic console to greet them.

"Hey. Can I help you with something?"

Comments

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob chuckles a bit. "More of a comment on how many bad guys we keep having to burn through. After that last mission, I'm wondering how many mercs the Blue Suns even have in this system. Seems like they just keep coming."

He rolls his shoulders, a show of shaking off the stress from the firefight. "I'm fine, though. We got the job done, and we all came home. I call that a good day." Jacob knows just as well as Shepard how valuable a day like that is. He's lost people under his command- comrades on Eden Prime, all of Lazarus Station. He doesn't let it get to him, but he doesn't forget it either.

[notacaptain]

"After everything? I'm wondering how the Blue Suns still are. Permanent recruitment drive to replace them as fast as we mow them down?" It's a little frustrating. Shepard doesn't enjoy taking out hotheads who should really know better. Too often people sign up because it seems like easy money. Morons.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. You seen today's dinner plans? Be a shame to survive everything only to get taken out by your stomach." Shepard slips off the table, stretching out slightly before giving her own shoulders a good roll. "Need to remind Joker to swing us over Citadel way so we can resupply. Might be more expensive than Omega, but I trust them more."

Oh she knows. It's just with everything that's happened she's taking things a little more personally lately. This tour's been pretty tough for her, not that she's about to let her crew see it. That's not how being in command works.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

The question gets a shrug from Jacob. "Basically, yeah. Merc groups are always hiring. Never a shortage of people willing to shoot guns for money." His face is a bit dark for a moment, but Shepard's joke brightens it back up. "Anyway, don't worry about dinner, Commander. If the Blue Suns couldn't take me out, neither will Gardner." He leans back on his hands, resting a bit on his console as he lets himself relax into the conversation.

"Between you and me? The stuff the Mess Sergeant serves is actually better than the rations I got in the Alliance. Cerberus has a bigger budget and less red tape when it comes to taking care of people." A pause. "Still looking forward to getting those supplies, though. Fresh provisions make a big difference when it comes to military food."