Larken wasn't to fond of any station that had alliance goons running about in it, or any place with them for that matter. His recent past with the alliance has proven to be a rather rocky and hatefull one. His eyes darting back and forth while he looked onward to each of the guards and soldiers that he saw. Making sure to keep his face from view of them at all times. Being a 'traitor' after all, it wouldn't do him any good to get nabbed up before he even started working on the new ship with the new crew. Never the less he finally found himself stepping aboard that Firefly, arms filled with bags as he looked around the old and worn vessel. Ah, the good ol days. Not that he was really old enough to remember them, but he was a fan of ships like this.<br/><br/>"Could use a little cleaning up. But not to bad."<br/><br/>Those words were spoken to himself while he took his time searching the ship for anything majorly wrong that he was qualified to notice. That mostly being big holes in the hull. Seeing nothing wrong that he could see, he continued on toward the bunk area. Eyes shifted back and forth, trying to find himself a suitable sleep space, until finally he found it. Stepping to the end of the row of beds he slid his 'sack full o guns' under it. Only having one of his pistol's on him for the moment, sense he didn't expect to need more then that for now.<br/><br/>"This looks like a good enough spot."<br/><br/>Once more he spoke to himself. His voice deep, low, and hard to hear unless someone was right close to him. Mostly because he wasn't trying to talk to anyone else. For now though he just went about setting up his bunk. Getting what little of his clothes he had with him tucked away.