Dwayne slowed his pace somewhat so he could walk with Bianca and Anjali. Having two female personalities on board was something that might jump up and bite him later on. He wore no ear piece and remained unaware of their private comments. Hearing their out loud conversation gave him an approving feeling. Anjali would be good for Bianca's development. She could 'obtain additional input' from the point of view of both genders. And Anjali could benefit from a bit of girl talk<i>.</i>It was shaping up to be quire the crew.<i>Look out Verge. </i><br/><br/>Dwayne smelled the goolash before he saw it. The threat of starvation not withstanding, if his nose didn't like it, it wasn't happening. A slight scowl crossed he features as he examined her plate. When it came to food, Anjali was clearly the braver of the two.<br/><br/>"Alrighty. Something that's<i>not '</i>goolash' then."<br/><br/>Dwayne settled in on a green salad with bits of grilled chicken. It was light and he didn't care to have a heavy meal before a workout. He finished his meal first, but lingered at the table, enjoying the company he was so unused to. Bianca announced the workout clothes were finished and Anjali asked for permission to be excused. Dwayne decided he need to nip this right here, right now.<br/><br/>"Anjali." he began leaving out the crewman part to gain her attention before he continued. "I've never been big on the whole 'master and commander' portion that come with operating a vessel. If we're under condition one or some other emergency status, it's all hands on deck. If we're having to conserve water or fabricator raw, I'll make it know. Beyond that, if you're hungry, eat. If you need a shower take one. If you need to leave the table, tell me, but you don't need my permission for these things."<br/><br/>He could've explained further. Told her about his dislike for the slave trade and how nobody owned her. Dwayne decided to quit while he was ahead.<i>Baby steps.</i>They were both aware of each other's intended purpose, but neither had elaborated on those experiences. Dwayne went to his quarters to change as the 'ladies' stepped away. Men often wondered what ladies talked about when they weren't around. Dwayne was no different. The sharing of secrets? The comparing of past experiences? That notion made Dwayne's stomach knot up a little. When it came to the day he'd met her, Bianca had 'no data available'. He'd paid a man to see to that. Along with other memory baggage that would have certainly been a detriment to her development.<br/><br/>In the Free Worlds Coalition orphan boys, and soldier babies it would seem, lived in a communal house that served as a boys group home of sorts, overseen by a single administrator. They came and they went for various reasons. The one he remembered most was Arikson Barnes. Arikson was rather fond of young boys. Dwayne was stronger and more aggressive than his communal brothers. Dwayne fought him off every time. Arikson never got him. Some of the others weren't so lucky and nobody seemed interested in anything Dwayne had to say on the matter. He did the next best thing he could do. Dwayne sunk out of the home, walked until he found the first law enforcement officer on foot patrol, kicked him square in the groin and punched him in the solar plexus. He'd been belligerent the whole way to the magistrates office. Dwayne plead guilty and the magistrate had bellowed the riot act at him. Then she'd asked the one question he'd hoped for. Why?<i>Because the administrator is molesting my house brothers and having a statement on public record is the only way I can get anybody to listen to me. </i>'Cop shows' were popular holovid entertainment in the Free Worlds. That's where he'd gotten the idea.<i>Get arrested, plead guilty and they have to record and consider every word that come out of your mouth. </i>It had gotten him the full measure of what he was looking for. And maybe a half measure of a couple of things he wasn't.<br/><br/>Ten-year-old Winston George had been quite the firecracker. Dwayne smiled lightly at some of the other memories. He'd been certain he was the situation with Arikson, until he was browsing the bounty bards early on in Confederate space when a particular phrase stood out to him. 'Carnal Knowledge of a minor'. Even after the fact, Dwayne never bothered to learn his name. Doing that only served to humanize him. He'd hunted Bianca's original owner for a month. Over the course of that time, it became less of a job and more of his personal mission. He' finally found him on a backwater and waited. When he'd jumped for his next round of stellar cartography, Dwayne had jumped in behind him and over taken his vessel in dead space, far from the Confederate borders. Dwayne had taken his time. Three days worth before that man was dead. He hadn't discovered Bianca until after the fact. Her disposition had been odd. Only two pieces of information was requested. She wanted to know if Dwayne was going to remove her hardware the same as he had her owners. And she wanted to know if Dwayne was as fond of young boys as her owner had been. He'd shut her down and took her back to the light house for selective memory wipe.<br/><br/>Dwayne finished tying his laces and headed below decks to the crew lounge. Every vessel with a crew size grater than one had a 'reck room' of some sorts. Dwayne kept gym equipment in his. Gray knee length shorts, a white t-shirt and sneakers was his chosen attire. He liked Anjali, more than a little bit and for various reason. If he had to be nit picky, he didn't care for her uncanny ability to make him reexamine things that he'd buried long ago. Like that situation, or even his birth name.<br/><br/>"Start with some squats. Best foundation for combat training<i>is </i>your foundation. Strong legs and foot work." Dwayne said.<br/><br/>Dwayne hit the pull up bar first. The best thing about top grade genetics was not having to spend mountains of time maintaining on the free weights. He had all the muscle mass he needed. Anything extra would only serve to slow him down. Speed killed. Up and down he went. Down and up she went. Her backside pressed against the already snug fabric of her pants deliciously. His eyes roamed over it and the shape of her legs without apology. He wondered silently if she wore these on purpose. Anjali knew of her own origins but the garments had been fabricated by Bianca. He let the notion pass by. A few old wounds had reopened while he'd been getting dressed. Those usually came with their own paranoid notions.<br/><br/>After they'd warmed up, Dwayne gave the very basics of instruction, minus the drill instructor antics he'd been taught with. They style of combat he'd been taught had originated on Earth, in a place called Okinawa. The Earthborne loved their classics in all things. How to move, how to stand, how to hold her arms and hands, how to properly receive and deflect blows incoming to various parts of the body and how to snap her hips when she countered. It felt like a lot of information and not every aspect of every lesson stuck on the first try. That varied form student to student.<br/><br/>"Jump on the pull up bar for a cool down. Do them slow. That'll be it for today. We'll go over all this again as needed."<br/><br/>Dwayne took to his favorite cool down, the hanging back. Fingerless padded gloves padded his knuckles as he began. Sweat began to roll in a short amount of time. He ditched the white t-shirt when he'd soaked it through. Dwayne punished the bag for all it was work, turning Arikson's face in to a bloody mess. Bianca's original owner was next. He should have ended that man quickly. Dwayne had done what he'd done, but he wasn't proud of it. In the moment, it had felt justified and necessary. It wasn't. He'd taken the necessary measures to insure nobody found out about it. Most nights he could go to sleep without seeing that man's face. He wouldn't tonight. Dwayne would make sure to shut the door to the Captain's cabin when he took his sleep cycle. And he'd exhaust himself on the bag to make sure that sleep was all he had time for.