Davie looks for work.

<OOC – Yeah…sorry about my attempted humor with the
Captain. Upon looking back at the joke I'm wondering why even thought that it
was funny in the first place.>
 
Who: Davie
Jones and others.
Where: Lots of places
When: About a day after Davie's attempted quip at the new Captain.
 
 
            Davie stood over the
burnt and damaged ship. It's armor scraped, burned and dented from his crash
landing in flight deck. When the missile exploded in the missile bank it
sheared off an entire wing tip, the canopy was cracked, and the fuel cells
leaked. Davie
had a lot of work to do on this ship. And for security while he was away, he
locked in to the flight deck floor with magnetic locks and bribed a couple of
Peewees and a Scutter into guarding it for him. He wasn't gonna let anybody
steal it. Not that anyone would. As far everyone else was concerned it was a
half destroyed, badly wired decommissioned pile of smeg with wings.
             Davie
looked inside the cockpit one more time and noticed that he had left his alien
sword in there. He had tossed it in before blasting off into a space battle
almost a week before. He grabbed it from the seat and jumped off the ship,
locking the canopy shut. "No one touches the ship. Got it?" Davie asked one of the Peewees sitting on
ship next to where he was standing. The Peewee beeped and whirred in
compliance. "Alright good. I got something for you."
            Davie reached into his
pocket and pulled out a can of WD40, aiming and spraying it all over the
Peewee, which beeped happily and excitedly. "See ya later." said Davie, putting the can
back in his pocket and turned to leave.
 
                                                            *          *          *
 
            Davie stepped into his
quarters, kicking over a pile of mail that had collected over the last few
days. Davie
picked it up in both hands and walked over to his bed, tossing his Hymenoptera
sword in the chair. Had sat down on the bed, sorting through the mail, speaking
to himself as he went. "Junk, junk, junk, junk," by now the pile was half gone,
"junk, junk, Coupons, junk, junk, ju—Ah! JMC business planning and licensing commission.
Maybe my shop permit has been authorized!"
            Davie tore open the
envelope, tossing it aside. He unfolded the letter and read. "Smeg!" he said,
"Denied! Great, it'll take at least another several months to get another one
even considered! Well, only one thing for it. I have to get a job, at least for
now until I can get my shop going."
            Davie stood up and walked
out of his quarters, locking the door. He stepped into the lift, and pressed
the button to take him to one of the hiring centers onboard the ship.
                                               
                                                            *          *          *
 
            Davie sat in the hiring
office looking through a list of available jobs on the ship. The list was very,
very long. As he looked he noticed many opening in the security department and
command crew. "Ahh…here's one," he said to himself, "Defensive Coordinator, uh,
coordinate the ship's defenses against attack. I could do that."
            Davie stood up and walked
over to one of the interviewer's desks. "Excuse me," Davie
said to man sitting behind the desk, "I would like to apply for this job here."
said Davie,
pointing to the listing on the paper. "Okay," said the man as he began typing
fervently for information. "Name?" asked the man. "Davie
Jones." said Davie.
"Have you worked for the JMC before?" asked the man. "Yes I worked as…er…freelance
security. I did a similar job for the Space Corp." said Davie. "What do you mean `freelance
security'?"
"I was a mercenary in the Space Corp.'s employ for several
years. They placed me on a few JMC ships."
"Right," said the man at the desk, "you seem qualified for
Defense Coordinator. You're definitely qualified to work in the security
department."
            The man's
computer beeped, "Oh, wait," the man said, reading quickly through some new
found piece of information, "okay, in order to be considered fully qualified to
be Defense Coordinator, you have to first, for operational and regulational
reasons, spend two weeks to three months as part of a security team on Blue
Dwarf in order to qualify as it's Defense Coordinator, as well as go through
intense AR training in tactics and… well… defensive thinking."
            "Why do I
have to be part of the security crew first?"
            "Because
you worked freelance for the SC and JMC. Don't ask, the whole reasons are kind
of a load of smeg. All I can tell you for certain is how you can get the job."
            "Alright, I
get a job with security, and come back in two weeks to apply for the Defense
job?"
            "Yeah,
exactly. Just take this to the Chief of Security, her name is Rosette, and ask
her when you start and what she needs you to do." said the man, handing Davie a lime green piece
of paper. "Thanks," said Davie,
"I'll do that right away."
            "All you
have to do is go through the motions, ridiculous or not, and you should get
that job no problem." said the man smiling. "Thank you again!" said Davie as he turned to
leave.
 
<Tag Rosette! Do you recognize me? Do you protest my
addition to the Security team, or welcome it? Are you gonna give me some menial
demeaning chore? What are you gonna have me do? Talk to Jusitn? And my favorite
question; what do I get paid? >