voicetest | Setting: Spaaaaaace!

"Yes. I'm heading planetside, so I'll need a sidearm," Lafiel answered promptly. "Any recommendations?"

Jacob nodded, then entered a code on his glowing console. A panel slid open in the wall next to him with a pneumatic hiss, and a rack of polished sidearms emerged, held in a lattice of foam and metal.

"Depends what you're expecting down there," he said. "I prefer the Predator, myself. It's accurate, reliable, won't let you down. Not much punch, though. If you need more firepower, I'd recommend the Carnifex." He gestured at the respective guns as he spoke, then turned to show Lafiel a nearby workbench.

"It's all customizable, too." He picked up an accuracy scope and held it in front of her. Jacob had been polishing this particular lens just an hour ago. "Give me a few minutes, and I can attach a couple upgrades to whatever you pick. It'll give you an edge."

Edited (Phrasing!) 2014-03-09 14:19 (UTC)

"I think I can wait for those upgrades," Lafiel replied. "I'm not expecting particular trouble, but the worst trouble seems to come when not expected."

"You've got it," Jacob said. He plucked a Predator from the rack, laid it on the workbench, and bent over it as he began screwing on a high-caliber barrel.

"I know what you mean," he said as he worked. "Worst missions I've ever been on? They've all been the ones where I wasn't expecting any trouble. There's not much worse than getting blindsided. Even a suicide mission can be survivable if you've got time to prepare."

With that, he finished screwing on the barrel, lengthening the weapon. A few more deft, practiced motions snapped the scope onto the top of the pistol. Jacob hefted the gun up and held it out to Lafiel. "There. It might weigh a bit more, but now you've got added accuracy and firepower. Try holding it, see how it feels."

Lfaiel took the gun first checking to make sure whatever safety features it had was on. Live fire in the armory was one of those accidents that one usually doesn't survive to learn from. After that, she hefted it, as one would if ready to use, though she kept her finger away from the trigger. "Good weight. I wonder if I have time and a place to test this."

Jacob appreciated the obvious care and experience Lafiel demonstrated with the weapon. Amateurs could be a greater threat to his armory than any kind of enemy action.

"Don't know about time, but I've got a range right back there. "Jacob nodded his head toward a doorway in the back of the room. "Not as good as a full simulation, but it'll do for weapons testing. I use it myself. Want me to set it up for you?"

One side benefit of his armory duties was that Jacob had an excuse for regular practice with just about any weapon he might use on a mission. He liked keeping his skills sharp and experimenting with any new items that might get added to the ship's arsenal.

"Yes, please," Lafiel said. "The time taken to practice could make the difference if there's trouble."

"Jacob."

Shepard smiles, leaning back against the nearby table casually. With how often she drops by for a chat, it's eventually going to develop an impression of her backside.

"You got a minute?"

To the casual observer it might seem like she's overly friendly, maybe even flirtatious, but they couldn't be further from the truth. After all this time, she's still trying to figure out how Cerberus suckered a decent guy like Jacob Taylor into working for them.

"I hear that." Jacob agreed with feeling, then led Lafiel to the back of the armory, through the door.

The room beyond was simple and direct. There were three firing positions with necessary safety equipment- goggles, ear protectors, and other ballistic paraphernalia- already laid out. Beyond were three targets with vaguely humanoid silhouettes. Jacob went to a small console in the corner and touched a few buttons. A motor whined, circuits hummed, and blue shielding flickered around one of the targets.

Jacob pointed at each target in turn. "You've got unprotected, armoured, and shielded targets here. Lets you get a feel for how the weapon handles different kinds of situations. It's all set, so go ahead and start shooting when you're ready." With that, Jacob lowered a pair of ear protectors over his head.

Edited 2014-03-13 23:10 (UTC)

"Sure thing, Shepard. Just finished inventory, so I've got time." Jacob nods toward a particular ammo crate across the room. "We're fully stocked with cryo rounds for the next while. Still working on topping off our incendiaries. What's up?"

Jacob has never had a commanding officer who spends as much time chatting with their subordinates as Shepard does. It took some getting used to at first- Cerberus is a lot less formal than the Alliance, but it isn't exactly the most touchy-feely workplace environment around. But by now, Jacob has come to appreciate the way Shepard stays in touch with the people she sends into the fire. It shows she gives a damn, which counts for a lot with him.

"That's not a comment about my aim, is it Taylor?"

Her voice remains light, teasing, because it's Shepard and she can outsnipe most soldiers even on a bad day. Vakarian too, but she's not going to be the one to break that news to him. At least not just yet, soon maybe. Her favorite turian's getting a little cocky as of late.

"Just checking in. Things got a little rough groundside." She meant every word. Maybe she is a commanding officer now, but she hasn't always been a big name wonder soldier. In her mind she's still little more than your average GI Jane - this despite the whole N7, Spectre, Savior of the Citadel thing. Not to mention she does care. That whole thing with Jenkins, there's no way she's letting that happen again. Losing someone under her command was bad enough. Losing someone under her command she'd hardly known was even worse. Rookie'd deserved better than he'd gotten.

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.

Lafiel grabbed her own ear-protection, adjusting it to not jar the control tiara she wore, a job that took both hands and a bit of effort. "Thank you." She moved to the range, ready to begin.

"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.

That got a raised eyebrow from Jacob. Why not take off the headgear before putting on the protectors? He wondered, not used to the ways of the Abh. Nonetheless, he stood back and watched Lafiel go to work. He was almost as interested in how the pistol performed as she was- his life might not be depending on the weapon, but his pride in his work was.

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."

Lafiel was a good shot, though of course she took a bit of time to adapt to a new weapon. After feeling confident she had the handle on the weapon, she finished up. "Thank you."

"No problem." Jacob nodded, satisfied that the weapon was going to do what was needed. He took off his ear protectors and stretched his neck a bit, side to side. "Can you tell me what kind of mission you're going on, or is that classified?"

"No thanks, I'm just looking around." She smiles brightly and turns away to admire a wall of rifles.

Angela's a recent transfer to the ship, and doesn't officially start a duty rotation until tomorrow but she wants to get a feel for the place. Besides, she's been pretty excited to see what kind of artillery they're packing ever since she got the transfer notice.

"You must be the new transfer." Jacob smiles back a little, then steps forward to shake his new crewmate's hand. "Jacob Taylor, welcome aboard. Let me know if you need help finding anything in here."

It's nice to see a fresh face, especially one that's upbeat and interested in his work.

Heine's probably not a familiar face, as new to the ship as he is, but if first impressions are any indication, Jacob can expect him to be a frequent visitor. At the moment he's carrying an assault rifle— or, what used to be one, before he put it through a blender or something.

It's in one piece, but only just. He holds it up and at least has the good grace to look slightly guilty.

"Captain told me to come down here." For obvious reasons. He hefts its weight and shrugs, like this isn't his fault. "Can you do anything with this?"

"Damn!"

Jacob stares at the mangled lump of metal before gently taking it in his arms, holding it as though it were a fatally injured soldier arriving too late in the infirmary. "I can salvage it for scrap- or maybe give it a funeral. That's about it, though."

He touches what was formerly the weapon's stock, which presently looks more like an alligator's chew toy. Then he looks up at his new crewmate, hoping this isn't going to be a regular thing with his weapons. "What happened?"

Now that just makes Heine feel kind of bad. There's always something regrettable about breaking a weapon, especially a nice one like this rifle, but... shit happens. Heine hands it over with minimal hesitation.

At the question, he hesitates for a second longer, crossing his arms and shifting his weight back. "Got cornered by one of the mercenaries. It kind of got messed up."

That's a bit of an understatement.

"I get it. Looks like it took a hit that was meant for you." Jacob nods, then lays the twisted remnant on a nearby workbench. He looks down at it and shrugs.

"Well, better it than you. Sounds to me like you're lucky to be in one piece." Jacob doesn't know yet how difficult to kill Heine is. What he does know is that shit happens out in the field, and that he would rather have a destroyed weapon to salvage than a dead crewmate to mourn.

He takes a moment to power down the weapon and eject any remaining ammunition from the wreck, just to be safe. Then he turns to Heine. "You'll need a new weapon," he says. "How do you feel about a shotgun with a bayonet attachment? Could come in handy next time you get cornered."

Rather than reply in the affirmative or the negative, Heine just makes a noncommittal noise. Not dismissive, but indifferent all the same. He watches Jacob set the gun down and power it off with vague interest.

"It could," he says. Heine doesn't really like the idea of bayonets, though, and glances around. "I don't know. What do you have?"

Setting: Spaaaaaace!

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