One BlasTech blaster carbine, lenses polished, array aligned, in working order.
Check.
Four power packs for said carbine, charged.
Check.
One Glock-17 slugthrower pistol, stripped and cleaned, in working order.
Check.
Four clips for said pistol, fully loaded.
Check.
One lightsabre, er, intact.
Check.
One Novablast blaster pistol, lenses polished, array aligned, in working order.
Check.
Two clips for said blaster, fully charged.
Ch -
"Excusez-moi, j'espère que je ne vous gêne pas..."
Josh whirled at the voice, to see Bertrand du Corbeau standing in the doorway, peering curiously into the room. At the change of clothes thrown haphazardly on the polished wood floor. At the Kevlar vest hanging over the ornate chair near the locked-shut window. At the extensive collection of weapons, ammunition and explosives laid out on the feather mattress of the bed. The older man's gaze wandered over all these things with merely the hint of a reaction and travelled up to meet Josh's eyes. They stood there for a moment, eyes locked, the old man's expression clearly waiting for an answer.
Eventually, Josh managed, "Er... sorry?" This hung in the air a moment, and he added, "M'sieu?"
"Aaah, you speak English?" Berty asked with a delighted smile. "Most curious! I was merely here to inquire if your accomodations were adequate, Mr... Bacon, was it?"
"Please, call me Josh. Though a lot of people call me Crispy."
"Not Bacon?"
"I'm afraid not."
"You must forgive me, my memory plays tricks on me in my old age. It's like a..." Berty trailed off, obviously searching for a word.
"A sieve?" asked Josh helpfully.
"No, not that... an animal. A small deer?"
"A... faun?"
"Yes!" Berty beamed. "Always dancing just out of reach, afraid I might come too close and harm it." He frowned again. "What was I talking about?"
Josh replayed the conversation in his head for a second, and said, "I think you were asking me about the room. It's fine, really, more than I expected."
"Aaah, yes. Good." Berty looked again at the bed. "A most impressive collection. Which province do you plan to destroy?"
"None, if we can help it," Josh said, replacing the blaster clips on the bed. "But you understand, I'm not really supposed to talk about that."
"Aaah! Secrecy, yes. I had wondered why my nephew had not said more of your task."
"Your... Oh. Thayer. Yes. Right. Well, we're not here to destroy provinces, anyway."
"As I thought. My nephew is not one to make friends with people who would."
"I hope it stays that way," Josh said with a faint smile. "I must thank you for your hospitality, M'sieu du Corbeau."
"Please, there is no need to stand on formality, Mr. Bacon. Call me Berty."
"Berty, then. And please, call me Josh. It's very good of you taking us all in like you have."
Berty waved a hand dismissively. "You come recommended by my nephew. It is no trouble, I have very little company these days, save M. Agneau and M. Rouille. And your M. Cochran and Mlle. Bush are delightful company."
Josh smiled and nodded. "I was unsure how a non-Francophone like me would fit in - I apologise for not staying longer."
"There is nothing to apologise for... Justin. I feel much the same when I find myself somewhere unfamiliar. Do rest well." Berty glanced at the bed again. "When you're done cataloguing your arsenal, of course."
"I'm sure I will, Berty. Thank you again."
Josh methodically checked each piece of equipment, and then, satisfied, began to pack it away. From force of habit, he set aside a blaster pistol, made sure it was set to stun, and tucked it under his pillow. He stretched, did a short set of exercises, and then finally hit the sack.
The last thing to flicker before his eyes before sleep claimed him was a brief vision of blue-streaked hair.
Suddenly, a loud trumpet chord broke through the barrier of sleep.
Josh was out of bed and had pumped two shots into the tape player before he recognised the piece - it had been playing the Star Wars opening theme. Josh blinked blearily at it. Obviously, someone had set it up right outside his door. Obviously, someone had turned the volume to maximum and pressed play. Obviously, someone was running away right now, to judge from the rapidly receding footfalls.
Well, it looked like Mike was down a tape player, then, unless there was some way to rewire the electronics.
Josh gave the tape player a final look, sighed and went back into his room. He picked up the Glock and the vest, and muttered, "Time to go to work."
"Mike."
Mike glanced up from the croissant he was munching, and grinned insolently. "Aah, Captain. Glad you could join us. Sleep well?"
Josh, his face impassive, tossed the hunk of plastic that was the remains of the tape player on the table. "Would have slept better if it wasn't for this. I think you'll find it's not working any more, though. It had an accident."
Mike grinned, and furtively glanced at Josh Cochran and Brad, and looked back to Josh Nolan again. "That's a shame. It's not mine, though, so I don't know why you've come to me." He took another bite of his croissant and leaned back in his chair, maliciously chewing it with his mouth open.
"Whose is it, then, and why would it be outside my room?"
Mike remained silent, and continued chewing. Josh drew in a breath, and resigned himself to waiting.
"Has anyone seen my..." Vickie began as she entered the room, but then she stopped and stood staring at the table. "My recorder."
"Crispy here was just about to tell us how he broke it," Mike said, beaming widely.
Josh Cochran smiled slightly. Josh Nolan scowled. Brad kept his attention on his breakfast. Vickie walked over to the battered plastic, picked it up and asked Josh Nolan, "Care to explain?"
"Someone left it outside my room this morning," Josh replied, staring steadily at Mike. "Someone put the volume on full, hit play on the Star Wars theme and hoofed it. Someone, I think, who knows how I react to rude awakenings."
Vickie turned to glare at Mike. "Michael. You realize that if you lie, I will know. Did you put my recorder outside Josh's door this morning and played the Star Wars theme full blast before running away?"
"Why would I do that?" asked Mike, an expression of hurt innocence on his face. Vickie's expression did not change.
"To get demoted, perhaps?" inquired Josh quietly.
"Moi? No." He turned to Vickie. "I did not put your recorder outside Josh's door this morning and play the Star Wars theme full blast."
"I'm not talking about Josh Cochran, Michael."
Mike flicked his gaze between the two stony-faced Captains, and finally sighed. "All right, okay, you got me. Vickie, yours was the only one handy. I'm sorry about that."
"You're going to buy me a new one. Sony digital voice recorder."
Josh Cochran waved his hand. "You will buy her a Sony digital voice recorder."
Without looking, Vickie reached over and bapped him on the head.
Josh Cochran grabbed his head, growling in mock pain. "Ow. Now why'd you do that? I was only practicing."
"Because now is not the time for you to practice. Now is the time to eat." As good as her word, she pulled up a chair and began helping herself to the foods in the kitchen - some moving to her of their own accord.
"Hey, isn't that kind of a trivial use of the Force?" asked Josh Cochran mockingly.
"Not this early in the morning, Padawan Bitch," Vickie replied, and attacked a croissant.
Josh Nolan grabbed a chair. "It's really good of Berty to let us stay here, anyway," he said lightly.
"Pity he's not awake for us to say thanks," said Josh Cochran. "Though at least I guess that means his lamb's not stalking me."
"Yeah, I think we should leave someone behind to show how grateful we are," said Vickie between mouthfuls, winking at Josh Nolan, who flashed her a grin in reply.
Mike caught that small exchange, and immediately took on a hunted expression.
"Yeah, an old man tending all those sheep and looking after all those stables," marvelled Josh Nolan, a little too nonchalantly. "I mean, can you imagine the amount of dung he'd have to shovel?"
"It wouldn't be right to leave him on his own to do all that while we go off to Paris," said Vickie, trying to suppress a grin.
"It's a pity Brad and I are going as backup," replied Josh Nolan. Brad's head jerked up at the mention of his name, and he scowled. Mike sighed and dropped his head as he saw what was coming.
"Yeah, and PSB, Becki and I have to go along," said Vickie wistfully. "I guess that just leaves..."
Josh Nolan and Vickie grinned at each other, then at Mike. "Mike," they said in unison. Mike groaned.