Lux tipped her hat low down over her eyes and slung her duffel over her shoulder as she went up the ramp leading into the cargo deck.  Weren't the first time she were on a<em>Firefly</em>, probably wouldn't be the last.  Everyone in the ruttin' 'verse these days seemed to have one; she supposed it had something to do with all the hidey holes smugglers and folk none too picky about where their plat came from could use to store cargo.<br/><br/>She didn't even need to get her bearings once in the hold, just turned left and headed up the stairs into the bunk areas.  She could hear other people moving around the ship -- from the banging around in the mess, someone was packing supplies in cupboards -- and found the bunk the captain had told her she could take.<br/><br/>She didn't have much in the way of possessions, just a couple spare changes of clothing and an arms collection to make any outlaw turn green with envy.  Well... probably not so much green as a nice shade of puce.  Weren't that impressive by most standards, but Lux was fond of it nonetheless.<br/><br/>She rifled through her bag until she came up with the half-pack of hand-rolled cigs she had left, then took it and her lighter and headed right back outside to the foot of the ramp.  Weren't long before she wouldn't be able to smoke without someone hollering at her about the contaminants, and she intended to enjoy her tobacco while she could.