[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cvg_ihwb29U/R0UTBXWNcjI/AAAAAAAAAFs/VvbUgB18a7A/s400/EquilibriumStill0100-ClericJohnPreston(ChristianBale)MD.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Bridge [hr][/center]

	Liam took in the Captain's immediate and strangely reasonable answer to his request. He seemed like the kind of man who might insist upon the new pilot staying put, purely because he had the authority to do so. A sort of "I'm in charge here, not you" moment. A mote of surprise twinged within him, never expressing outwardly and fading fast. The Alliance Navy, while generally restrictive and disciplined, was most assuredly a number of steps up from where he had recently been living. Who knows? He might even get some personal time without having to shank anyone for the privilege. He didn't like shanking people; wasn't hid style. Truth was, if someone needed correction, he'd rather club them out with a big [i]tā mā de[/i] Wrench. 

	As it turned out, he happened to have a Big [i]Tā Mā De[/i] Wrench. Lucky him. 

	He took the Captain's order to stay at the ready seriously, as indicated by an unhesitant [color=008080]"Aye, sir."[/color] Liam partially stood from the Helm, finishing up the last few routine prompts from the station's terminal, and turned to leave the Bridge. One step from his post, the dandy he had seen just earlier entered the Bridge, along with a similarly dressed individual he didn't quite recall meeting yet. The former spoke directly to Captain Quinn, something about a private meeting that the Agent wasn't cleared for. That was a particularly intriguing fact. The latter man seemed to know everyone aboard; he kept nodding to members of the crew that would catch his gaze, some with a mischievous smile that appeared and disappeared quickly. Liam surmised that he had been on the ship for longer, and was a bit of a socialite. 

	Either way, this conversation did not involve him. William did want to address an issue with Quinn, himself, but it could wait for a while (he hoped).  If he was to be made privy to any of the knowledge from the meeting, he would find out soon enough. In the meantime, Lieutenant Harper stepped off of the Bridge to do precisely what he said he was going to - Make himself more at home in his quarters and lay eyes on every interior surface of the Retribution he was able. 

	
[hider=Translations]
tā mā de = fuck/fucking
[/hider]


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=f9ad81]Foy Coiffeur[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://snippetstudios.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/a-million-ways-to-die-in-the-west-640x350.png [/img][hr][b][color=f9ad81]Location:[/color][/b] Quarters, Out And About [hr][/center]

	Well then, my my. A secret meeting among Gentlemen. And Captain Quinn. While it was true that the good Captain wasn't an overly moneyed individual, the right Finishing School would be able to turn someone like him into a person worthy of being presented at Cotillion. Such was the opinion of Foy Coiffeur. 

	Gentry or not, information of a secret nature really should be passed along with an accent of something smooth and alcoholic. To that end, the enigmatic Gentleman Barber had neglected to store his flask of brandy with the rest of the collection, instead opting to keep discreet hold of it in the interim, until they could have a touch of privacy to discuss whatever it was that brought his childhood friend, Jahosafat Moreau, on board the Retribution and away from his precious research facilities. 

	The elephant in the room, or large black crate in the cargo hold, also drew his interest. He would not be a man as impolite as to merely blurt out his curiosities, no, Foy was content to wait until Dr. Moreau was done with his presentaion. As Quinn and Jahosafat exited the Bridge, Foy followed, a gleam of intrigue reflecting in his bright eyes.