Craig followed the Captain through the ship, admiring the woman’s fit figure and the sway in her hips. If not for her no-bullshit attitude and a coldness he knew too well from lesbians and frigid females, he would have cracked onto her with one of his tried-and-true lies - lines that had opened up many-a-woman who had helped to warm his bed. He didn’t think a tragic backstory involving a young dead son or his current bag of gems would ease his way into Victoria though.

His bunk was a simple container and a bed. He stuffed the satchel under the middle of the mattress and rearranged the sheets to serve as an alert for him if anyone searched around and tried to steal the bag. The Captain had mentioned dinner to be served soon; in the meantime, he wandered in the shabby-looking ship, mapping the interiors in his mind, and tried out doors both locked and unlocked and peeked inside. 

He met a woman in one of the corridors and smiled at his luck. She was dressed in the habit of the Divines, a religion he was familiar with during the war and as a citizen of the outer rim planets. “Good evening,” he said with small bow, suitably deferent to a high priestess. “The Divines must have blessed you most out of all their children. I am Ben, son of Richard and Maria Wiliamson, ex-Catholics who left the Core.” Craig lowered his voice for a touch of sympathy, to say, “My parents read to me the Scriptures when I was a boy.” He approached, continuing, “It is the Divines’ Will that we meet here today,” and took her hand for a kiss.