[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] Retribution, Bridge [hr][/center]

	Basic muscle work. The lifting and hauling of various vialed sundries from the ubiquitous Point A to the only slightly less attainable Point B. There was a hint of concern; after all, Foy was moving unknown materials into an escape pod that he suspected wouldn't be withing the realm of "stable". But his worry was for naught. They had arrived safely at their destination at the previously mentioned Escape Pod, regular as clockwork. 

	As much as the Esteemed Mr. Coiffeur did not appreciate the finer points of pure manual labor. Not that it had any fine points, in his mind. None at all. Objectively, it did fit within the confines of his all-important Contract. He was read into a situation that the others were not, he was nearby on a time crunch, and so the awful responsibility to exert himself in a manner that did not involve actual field work, nor training. And so he acquiesced to the instruction of his dear friend, cheerfully and without complaint in the slightest. 

[color=f9ad81]"You realize, good sir, that if your situational puppeteering bears fruitful result, we shall have to celebrate with the nearest bottle of bubby wine. What say you, old boy?"[/color] 

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://www.equilibriumfans.com/EquilibriumStill0100-ClericJohnPreston(ChristianBale)MD.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] Retribution, Bridge [hr][/center]

	This seemed an odd situation, from a military man's point of view. Generally, orders came down the chain, reports went up the same chain about the results. But the situation, obviously, was not general. At least not for Harper. So when the PA addressed him with Moreau's voice, giving him instructions on how he wanted the ship handled, he had to stop himself from committing his hand to a rude gesture, and continuing the Captain's orders. Not that he would have extended the appropriately insulting finger in the first place; he was a stalwart professional pilot and Officer in the Alliance Military. At least for now. The thought did cross his mind, though. 

	But as mentioned, this seemed an odd situation. There was a ship full of self-mutilated monsters hellbent on having angry sex with everyone present, so the "rules" may have changed. There was nothing about this situation that gave him any sort of reassurance. And the core of electric ice that lodged within him, due to the presence of the inhuman creatures pursuing them made Harper a little more susceptible to following any course of action that allowed him to escape or destroy them, regardless of the source. 

	With this in mind, he began to adjust their heading, glancing over Captain Quinn for a nod, or conversely a look of disapproval. He had no plans on dying today, nor getting eaten, nor raped into unconsciousness before either of those things happened. So unless Quinn gave a better plan, Harper piloted the Retribution to the specifics set by the visiting Doctor Moreau. 

	But he refrained from saying, "Aye aye, sir", instead voicing the less official, [color=teal]"On it."[/color] Principle of the thing, you see.