Kyle McAvoy replaced the cover and booted up the wrist-mounted computer. It was one of those cheap ones that the tourists liked to get their first time in space. They always seemed to have files on at least a half-dozen alien races from the area, as well as other things tourists went for, like trivia on space and starships, as well as personal records of someone's trip.
Kyle had pick it up while dumpster diving, or, more accurately, he had talked Jaren into letting his look through the trash for salvageable electronics and had picked it up. One of their former passengers probably ditched it after the screen quit working, but he easily reconnected the broken wire inside of it and it worked fine. Now it would become an extra 20 credits in his pocket if he could find some starry-eyed tourist who wanted one, though at most ports you practically tripped over at least a few anytime you left the ship, so that wouldn't be hard to do.
The console in front of him beeped and he looked at the Captain's latest orders. The Nunu migration? Kyle had spent the last several months making sure they had every kind of weapon they could ever need, from EMP bombs to his almost-finished moon-cracker (it was currently only up to asteroid-cracker in simulations), and what did the Captain choose to do with it? Transport a bunch of tourists to another system. Sure, it was lucrative enough, but hanging around them made his wish his nose was also artificial so he could turn it off. I'll have to see if the Doc can deaden my sense of smell or I might have a few choice words to say to our passengers about their hygiene issues.
Of course, he wasn't sure if it was a hygiene thing or if it was just something about their natural scent, but that was all the more reason to get the procedure done. It wouldn't be good for one of the crew to insult one of the guests. Besides, the best he could hope for on this journey would be getting to rebuild a reactor, and he didn't want his frustration at the stupidity of the mission to get released in a way that could cost him his job.
He notified the bridge that weapons systems were ready, not that they would need them, and went back to the next salvaged device in his box-o-junk. An old laser pistol.