Ein leaves Spike's room above the restaurant, down the stairs, and out through the obliging front door. He's never had to bark for anyone to open it for him, which is good since the doorhandle is not of a fashion even a clever corgi can manage.
He walks along a steely corridor for a bit, catches a lift going in the right direction and eventually comes out on the level where the Bebop is docked.
Through the hatch (it's keyed to his retina scan, since his pawprint wouldn't read well) and... *sniff, sniff* his pet human is that way.
Ein meanders through the Bebop until he gets to the galley. His human looks a little glum, cooking for only one. At least it means the corgi gets fed more often... erm... not counting the food from the bar.
‘Wan-wan.’
For that short speech, Ein gets a polite-baring-of-teeth and a snack, at which point his pet notices the note in his collar and removes it. The two of them head for Spike’s quarters in companionable silence to search for the requested item. After a bit of digging – the cabin was tidy, but also small and therefore fairly full – Ein’s pet produced a heavy plastic case, some smaller but heavier rectangular boxes and metal sleeves.
‘Are you sure you can carry all this?’
‘Wff.’ Ein nods, slips out the door to Ed’s old room and returns quickly. He carries, awkwardly, a soft nylon bag with many straps.
‘Saddlebags! I didn’t know you had those. Good idea.’ In short order, Ein’s human has the bags strapped onto the corgi’s low-slung body and weight-balanced. Feels odd, but it’s manageable.
Ein leans up against his human’s legs in appreciation, then leaves the ship again. This time, the door is much closer. How considerate of Milliways! Ein only has to manœuver down one half-flight of stairs before a door slides open and swings open at the same time – somehow.
The corgi hopes he can manage getting back upstairs this way, though....
He walks along a steely corridor for a bit, catches a lift going in the right direction and eventually comes out on the level where the Bebop is docked.
Through the hatch (it's keyed to his retina scan, since his pawprint wouldn't read well) and... *sniff, sniff* his pet human is that way.
Ein meanders through the Bebop until he gets to the galley. His human looks a little glum, cooking for only one. At least it means the corgi gets fed more often... erm... not counting the food from the bar.
‘Wan-wan.’
For that short speech, Ein gets a polite-baring-of-teeth and a snack, at which point his pet notices the note in his collar and removes it. The two of them head for Spike’s quarters in companionable silence to search for the requested item. After a bit of digging – the cabin was tidy, but also small and therefore fairly full – Ein’s pet produced a heavy plastic case, some smaller but heavier rectangular boxes and metal sleeves.
‘Are you sure you can carry all this?’
‘Wff.’ Ein nods, slips out the door to Ed’s old room and returns quickly. He carries, awkwardly, a soft nylon bag with many straps.
‘Saddlebags! I didn’t know you had those. Good idea.’ In short order, Ein’s human has the bags strapped onto the corgi’s low-slung body and weight-balanced. Feels odd, but it’s manageable.
Ein leans up against his human’s legs in appreciation, then leaves the ship again. This time, the door is much closer. How considerate of Milliways! Ein only has to manœuver down one half-flight of stairs before a door slides open and swings open at the same time – somehow.
The corgi hopes he can manage getting back upstairs this way, though....