Corporal Ruya Aras<br/>Tagging: AMZN-T108m302 “Ami” (<a class="username" data-user-id="18963" data-username="@TheCorsair" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/community/members/18963/">@TheCorsair</a>)<br/>Location: Crew Quarters<br/>---<br/><br/><i>You are the first human I have spoken with since receiving this task.</i>Well Ami chose a piss-poor example of Forge personnel to make a first impression on. She belonged to one of the Divinity individuals attached to the mission, none of whom Ruya had met yet, nor did she think she would have to, being concerned with fire support for the mission and not exactly on par with the eggheads. They always had some other subtle motive underlying them.<br/><br/>Anyways, introductions seemed moot to Ruya. They could all be dead within a short time.<br/><br/>She hummed in acknowledgement to the function. Not what she expected but then again not all organizations were mercenary based like the one Ruya was given over to. The android correctly guessed the weapon model and Ruya just shrugged, watching the android unblinkingly as she soon stammered over an apology over some slight. True, they didn’t let convicts customize. Why bother? They were just fodder anyways and even a new scope or grip was a waste of resources in their eyes. Was she offended? She couldn’t be. The drugs didn’t allow it. Once her heart rate spiked with the increase in rage, her bodysuit would give her a counteracting shot to inhibit it.<br/><br/>Turning, she went and hopped back on her top bunk, legs dangling off the edge. “No offense.” She said carefully. “Standard issue, that’s correct. Fires depleted uranium shells or anti-personnel slugs, whatever is best for the situation.” Ruya explained, essentially repeating the standardized brochure for the weapon. “And yourself? Do they arm you or do you serve some<i>other</i>function beyond meet-and-greet? It won't be much fun if you were turned into spare parts accidentally, Ami.” Ruya said with dry humor.