[center][h2][color=steelblue]Riggs[/color][/h2][/center]
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As Riggs stared down the Captain, he heard the intercom spark to life again rather unexpectedly. [color=blueviolet]"All hands, prepare for phase jump."[/color] His pupils shrunk to small dots in the center of his eyes as he began moving, in preparation. As calculated as his gliding steps always were, Riggs shifted position two steps to the left, away from the table, and placed his feet one in front of the other as he leaned forward. When the ship jolted in it's acceleration, Riggs was propelled backwards, spinning with a sort of elegance as he planned. He raised his right arm to catch himself on a cupboard on the wall of the commons room, his spinning momentum causing the cupboard to swing open as he grasped it. 

Riggs eyes searched through the cupboard, narrowing until he found what he was looking for. He was glad that he had    positioned himself correctly -if he hadn't found what he had been looking for in this cupboard the entire maneuver would've just been awkward. He turned from the cupboard, allowing it to swing shut, emerging with a pure white metal bottle in one hand. As he walked back to his previous position, opening the bottle, he noticed the pilot's entrance to the room, nodding. Riggs curtly returned the nod, before turning back to the Captain. Nine was one of the most respectable he had come to know on the ship so far, not just considering the fact that she was not criminal scum like the rest of the pickers. No, he respected Nine because he saw himself in her -she was one of the few others on the ship who relied not on brute close quarters skill, but rather a special honed prowess of another sort.

As the cap popped off of his bottle, a scent akin to bleach drifted out. Riggs took a deep swig of the cleaning fluid in the bottle, before capping the bottle and resting it again on the table. His eyes once again widened as he looked at the Captain, his mouth resting in the telltale Corvidaen grin. The Captain he still had torn feelings about. Though he had a predisposition to oppose authority and Askel could be abrasive at times, he admired her tenacity at times.

He stumbled back, startled, as the table shifted, and Pax emerged. Riggs' eyes narrowed, and he slid back, subconsciously moving towards the wall near Nine. He embraced the dimmer light happily, his contrasting florescent tattoos standing out even more. As the Trakqian hunched down into a sitting position, Riggs regained his composure, standing straight as he gave a wordless nod to the towering beast of an alien. Riggs was not a fan of wildcards, and the seemingly always drunken Pax certainly fit that bill -at least by his own standards. Rigg's rather versatile eyelids raised up from the bottom and contracted slightly at the sides, a subtle expression known by those close to the Corvidae as a type of smug superiority.

The expression only became more pronounced as he felt an ice cold connection form directly with himself, a familiar  feeling. It was quickly followed by an expected hiss of a voice from behind. [color=orange]"No food..."[/color] Riggs didn't need to turn around to know that Z was making his entrance. As the heavy footsteps made a plodding course to the corner near the pilot, Riggs moved back once again to his original position. He turned his head briefly, his left eye focusing on the scarred mound of flesh. The hostility Z felt for Riggs was palpable, and not just because his race could feel emotional connections. Nevertheless, Riggs didn't bother addressing the beast -nothing he could say would change the feeling.

Though the Corvidaen had kept a smug look on his face for the most part since his entrance to the room, his expression fell to neutrality, as he listened to Pax speak. [color=khaki]"Since I'm not late, why the tchyt are we awake?"[/color] He smiled at the crass vulgarity of the alien, akin to his own speech patterns in a sense. His expression changed once more, his spines straightening as he heard a familiar greeting from behind. He turned to face Grick, respectfully bowing his head as he quietly returned the greeting. He turned his attention once again to the rest of the room, still standing. 

[color=darkviolet]"I fear I may be to blame for this meeting, Paxyntrotka. I found... well, the Captain will explain."[/color] This piqued Riggs curiosity, and he leaned forward to hear what the captain had to say about Grick's peculiar find. His tattoos flared, shifting to new positions as his eyes widened. Before the Captain spoke, he heard another voice entering the room -almost late, it appeared. 

[color=slategray]"We ready to begin yet?"[/color] the voice of Ven could be heard, as he took a seat. A general feeling of apprehension radiated from him into the room. Riggs held back a chuckle -the Veslin's poker face was uncannily effective on most of the crew, but his Corvidaen intuition was not something so easily fooled. 

Just as Riggs refocused his attention on the captain, he was rather rudely interrupted one final time. Possibly the last interruption, unless he was forgetting another crewmember (which happened more frequently than he'd like to admit. [color=olive]"Have I forgotten something?"[/color] Came the distinctive voice of Cú. Before Riggs fully turned his head, the canine followed with another astute observation, [color=olive]"Shit, I sleep naked."[/color] Using his better judgement, Riggs immediately snapped his head to face away from Cú, chuckling out loud this time. [color=steelblue]"This is what happens when idiocy plays at intellect."[/color] Riggs murrmered to himself loudly enough to be heard by Cú, but quiet enough to where it was unlikely for all but the most socially inept to make a scene calling him out on it.

Finally, the Captain spoke, after harshly putting Cú in line. This made Riggs narrow his eyes in a smug happiness. However, the Corvidaen stayed silent throughout the entirety of Aksel's speech, pausing for a minute after she finished to take it all in. This insane plan of hers was at is base, complete subordination and abuse of her power. Snatching away what all the pickers had worked so far. He very much wanted to argue against it, to rally a mutiny. Well, a mutiny that wasn't staged. But deep in his gut, he felt something more compelling -the Council killing off an entire race? The implications alone were staggering. Something urged Riggs to follow his gut feeling, that there was a deep-seated injustice in the Council that made this insanity plausible. 

Riggs made up his mind. Taking this path, almost a suicide mission, justice would be served one way or another under his guiding hand. Though he stood for the plan, he said nothing, simply electing to take another swig of cleaning fluid. He needn't voice his support -the Captain had clearly made up her mind on the plan and there would be no dissuasion on that front, and he of all the crew was least suited to bruise up the captain, hell, he'd be lucky to bruise an apple. So he waited, observing, planning, and trying to figure out how the fuck they were going to make this travesty of a plan come together properly.