Who: Barf and the rest of the crew of Mk9's ship.
Where: Mk9's ship.
When: Before my subplots, when the turrets are out of hand.
Barf did not sign up for a war, and he certainly didn't plan on dying by ramming
into a fallic
turret. This was probably not the kind of ship for combat. Barf could figure
out the controls
well, but it wasn't like his Dent. Then he thought about whether or not his
"Hey, Mk9!" Barf called out.
"Yes!" Mk9 said, looking like he was in the middle of a prayer.
"Is my ship in your docks?"
End. (Sorry about my own subplots).