A place is marked as “ No weapons allowed”.
One (or more) of the crew proceeds to spend a ridiculous amount of time removing all of the weapons from their being.
Cue terror and hilarity. -- Anon Guest
[AN: My favourite trope!]
"No, no, Human Jan. You do not check that your weapons are operational. You check them in. For safety and safekeeping."
"Right," said Human Jan. "Nobody has weapons, nobody can harm anyone. That's the theory, right?"
"That is the practice," sighed Hothron. Humans may come in handy, but they tended to have difficulty with the more civilised areas of the Edge Territories. Fortunately, Human Jan had skipped over the illogical argument of, If nobody is allowed armaments, how am I meant to protect you from criminals?
Human Jan disengaged their Battle Suit and emerged in their livesuit. It was easy to forget that Human Jan was a much smaller being. But even then, they were not finished. The Livesuit had storage compartments, and Human Jan believed in being prepared.
"Do I have to check my stunners?"
"If they are Grade four or above, yes," said Hothron.
Human Jan made a noise of disgust and placed two sidearms on the counter. Then two more smaller sidearms from their boots. Then some projectile blades that Hothron recognised as Shuriken.
Another noise of disgust. Swiss army knives came out of wrist compartments. Larger, less tool-like knives came from the arms. Knuckledusters and punch daggers came from compartments that seemed illogical. There were blades of assorted length, grenades that should have been banned centuries ago, an actual mace, a can of mace, an electric stunner from centuries ago - so old that it still required chemical batteries; a length of super-strong cabling attached to two handles, and what appeared to be two rods attached to each other by a length of chain.
"I have to stay in my livesuit because my skin is mildly acidic and my saliva contains enzymes that could digest your walls," announced Human Jan. "Whoops. Almost forgot. Keychain." And out came another bundle that had a sonic weapon, something that looked like a cartoon cat, but was another punch dagger, and a device for turning petroleum lighting devices into a blowtorch.
The customs agent at Last Chance Station stared at the Human, then slowly turned a concerned gaze towards Hothron. "You feel safe with that on your vessel?"
"These are the Edge Territories," said Hothron. "Better to have a human with you than against you."
"By the way," said Human Jan, "anything can be a weapon. I've studied Jackie Chan."
Hothron turned on Human Jan. "Do you want to be impounded? I'd rather that not happen, thank you."
"I'll restrain myself," reassured Human Jan.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / innovari]
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