Jazz turned around, seeing the little medic. Of all the crew, she was perhaps the one he least expected to see... but perhaps the one he needed to see the most.

"I'm glad you choose to join me, doctor. You don't mind the deathstick, do you?" he asked, gesturing to his cigarette. He went on, "Medics almost never realize that sometimes the best way to preserve your team's life is to help with the fighting." He smiled, the look seeming foreign upon the behemoth's hard visage.

He thought to himself what the best weapon to give her would be. Rifles are easy to handle, and allow the user to stay far away from the battle. On the other hand, Arcia most likely wouldn't get involved until the action was right on top of them; and she had enough medical supplies to carry anyway.

Handgun. Now, which one? He'd let her get the feel of it. Try them out.

Reaching the armory, which included a small shooting range, Jazz keyed open the door. "After you," he said, putting out his cigarette on his mechanized hand.

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Once upon a time, there was a man called Jazzturbation, and he posted upon a forum... and then left when life became hectic and left him behind. Months later, he returned to that same forum... but had forgotten his password, and so created a new identity to use as his own.

I am that man.