<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/55/83/d8/5583d8287dc20d30cf2e8c3b4d048177.jpg)</div>Gunner. Nice. There was just something so<em>yummm</em>about ship-gauge weaponry. Standard quad-mount, like ones she'd seen a dozen times before. The gunner's seat was exactly the same level of discomfort as all the others she'd been in, which, for her small frame, actually wasn't as bad as it might have been for someone taller or broader in the hips.  Shae took a few minutes to power the gun on and off, check the telltales, waggle the whole mount a bit- it was the tiniest bit stiff going to the left, probably a bubble in one of the drivers. Or maybe a dinged cowling. Next time they set down she'd have a look and talk to the engineer.<br/><br/>Headset on, she listened to the chatter of the crew without adding to the noise, and tested out the targetting system by making mock attacks on the escape pod they seemed to be picking up once they were in effective range. It didn't shoot back, didn't try to evade- did nothing at all, in fact, which made it kind of boring as a playmate, so after making sure the 'tronics were more or less up to spec, she safed her cannon and powered down the mount. Once their salvage was aboard, she tweaked the volume on her comm set, so she'd hear it if anyone yelled for her...and went to sleep, sprawled in a very un-ladylike manner, one leg up on the arm of the seat.<br/><br/>Beat the hard, narrow bed in the cantina all hollow, for sure.