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 snorted. "Oh. That kind of diplomacy. I'm familiar with the type." He shook his head, a little bitterness from old missions seeping through. "Let me guess: there's a good chance someone's going to try killing you, but you have to play nice for the sake of politics."