"War's long done. We're all just folk now."
-- Captain Malcolm Reynolds
Location: Yaren Base Grid: Classified System: Omicron Delta Theme: "Complicated Situation" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
"Hey, droid. Hand me a 21 millimeter universal socket, will you?" Tain held out his hand from beneath his Talon without looking, and was greeted by a muffled 'affirmative' followed by nothing. He twisted and slid his creeper out from beneath the ship's landing struts, craning his head to look at the droid he had personally handpicked to help him perform the Preventive Maintenance Checks and Services. Unsurprisingly it stood there motionless, staring at the universal socket as if trapped in its own introspective nightmare. He sighed and slid a little bit further to grab the socket from the toolbox himself, then returned to tightening. Most people these days neglected their landing struts. Every civilized base in the galaxy had gravity repulsor pads for that soft, cushiony landing. He himself was of the saying that it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. His father taught him that the hard way.
Once things were reasonably secure, he pushed the creeper out from beneath the fighter and wandered over to his toolbox where he grabbed a grimy rag to get the grease off his fingers and knuckles. He looked over his shoulder at the Talon once again. "Behelit" was scrawled in crimson red paint over the ram scoops on either side, while the vertical stabilizers were adorned with a disturbing visage of an red-skinned egg-shaped face screaming in either agony or pure terror, blood pouring from its blue eyes in the place of tears. It was a suitable name. That wasn't what had been on Tain's mind, though. The reason that he had purchased such a thing was.
He hadn't felt threatened in a long time. His talk with the Ghosties had been on his mind, and the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that things were about to get complicated. "Other factions" were beginning to notice the presence of himself and his partner Jayin, and were also keeping an eye on the fact that they had began calling themselves the GunCaster Buccaneers. Said "other factions" were also much larger than they were, but that didn't matter much to either Jayin nor himself. They were working hard to forge a name, but between the two of them things were pretty slow. But they'd come around. Victory is always around the corner for they who would persist... so his mother would say, in not quite the same words. The fighter was a testament to his desire to persist. Yeah, something like that. He also thought it was better to have it and not need it than... well, you know.
He gave Behelit a nudge with his elbow as he turned to toss the rag back into the toolbox on his way to the docking appendage connecting the Dog to the Corsairs' Yaren Base. They weren't completely without friends, even if said friends had no desire to get involved in their conflict. That was okay by him. At least he had a place where he'd always find lager on ice and all the comforts he cared to have.