He followed after Glasya, listening intently. He thought about how running out of ammunition had led to such tragic consequences back home. To have something that gave you a leg up, something that you could never run out of or lose track of, something that could never be taken from you was an incredible idea. The reminder that if something sounded too good to be true, it always was, crossed his mind but Bellamy neglected it. This had to be different. He couldn't help but be completely sold into the idea of the Force; into the idea that he could actually be in control for once. For a moment, he felt a rush of gratitude, because Glasya would be the one to help him achieve that.
Stepping into the cargo hold, Bellamy's attention shifted to the room around them. His gaze swept over the racks of weapons at the back. Weaponry was something Bellamy was most familiar with out of any of the things he'd been exposed to here, though the look of blasters still seemed odd to him after holding assault rifles for so long. The door slid shut and Bellamy glanced over his shoulder in the direction before returning his attention to Glasya.
Would he like a demonstration? He flashed a smirk, "Hell yeah," he agreed.