Boys Keep Swinging

Plisken stood in one of the deserted corridors away from the rest of the group. The corridor was flanked by several doors, all of which were annoyingly locked. Despite his slightly younger age, he had very little want to remain dressed in his... armour? A loincloth and some leather arm guards hardly consituted as protective gear but it had saved his life once back on the planet. The doors in front of him led to storage areas, areas that hopeful held some more respectable attaire. It was also his fond hope that there might be a replacement arm. Having one arm was a serious disadvantage- his coat kept slipping off.

"There in that one," said Garh casually as he strolled up to stand next to Plisken. Garth was slowly massaging his temples.

"You still got that head ache?" asked Plisken, genuinely concerend now for his friend.

"Oh, it's more than just a head ache."

"Ah, Jaxx's accent finally cracked you eh? Don't worry, we all get annoyed by the way he speaks eventaully."

"No, don't be stupid."

Plisken shook his head, medicine was never his forte. He reach over and pressed the door release. The gray refused to slide open. Plisken sighed, it was to late in the night to try and pick open the door. So he raised his sword and smashed the door pannel. Sparks flew out of the pannel and the door slide open.

"You always were direct," said Garth, almost wincing at the pain the bright sparks caused him.

"Hmm, you really should ask Miss. Moreau or Miss. Black about that head ache," muttered Plisken as he stepped into the room. Garth had indeed by correct, the room seemed to be the storage area for a talior or maybe a strange fashion fanatic.

"I know what the head ache is, I'm just trying to stop it."

"So what is it?" asked Plisken as he began to rummage through the draws and boxes, throwing out waistcoats and smoking jackets.

"It's Brittany," said Garth as he shook his head at one of Plisken's choices, a black and gold pinstripe jacket.

"Och, what does she want?" said Plisken, tossing the jacket away.

"Och?! You haven't said that since you were a Midshipman. Anway, that device I had back on the planet? It was what kept me anchored to this time," Garth picked up a smart black waistcoat and handed it to Plisken.

"Wait really?" said Plisken as he pulled the waistcoat on over a white shirt.

"Yes, Jac- I mean Plisken. I have something of hers and she's not about to let me have it. Good," the last remark was directed at Plisken's new attaire.

"So what are you going to do about?" asked Plisken, turning his attention to his long grey beard, bringing up a pair of scissors to the hair.

"Keep fighting, and hope Jay doesn't find out. The nanophage is more than enough for him to worry about."

Plisken cut his beard back down to its normal size, "Not the best plan you've ever had."

"No, it's not. That beard will have grown back by next week you know."

Plisken through his tattered coat over his shoulders, "Well quite. Now come and help me find a new arm."