[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=008080]William Harper[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-joToxLegqZk/UlP_OiXe43I/AAAAAAAAcfs/_sbEOs83YPQ/s400/Peinados+de+hombres+al+estilo+de+Christian+Bale-1.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=teal]Location:[/color][/b] En route to -> Bridge[hr][/center]

	[color=008080]"Yes, Ma'am."[/color] responded Harper in a more relaxed voice. It was not the more strained affirmation of his Military Officer persona, more than it was a simple response of a man beginning to breathe more relaxed oxygen at not being in immediate fear of discovery or capture. The fact that he wasn't decked out in his press and polish Alliance uniform didn't hurt matters, either. Ubiquitous coveralls could mean any number of things for the person wearing them, from a utility worker to private security, even pilot for one of the smaller, less ostentatious vessels docked nearby. He was always most comfortable in something like this, or Core World semi-formal. While not screaming dapper flamboyance, like [i]some people[/i] aboard the ship, Harper did enjoy the feel of a good suit. Off the rack, fitting garments sufficed nicely for him, though he had the occasion (once upon a time) to wear tailored clothing for the purposes of some social gathering or another. What few non Alliance items of this regard he owned were picked up from Persephone, assembled with some haste. They were fine, if basic, but he was very much looking forward to making some purchases in town, if at all possible. He even had a little money in his pocket, thanks to Anisa and his Alliance Officer's payroll. That last bit would be unaccessible after this go around, it made sense to get rid of it soon or convert it to something more fluid. But that was a concern for a later time. 

	Those thoughts and more went with him as he took a purposeful stroll up the main corridor of the ship, striding onto the bridge like he owned the place. He gave a quick, impolite gesture to the Captain's chair before settling down in front of a tactical station and accessing the system. As the second highest rank listed on board the ship, he had no difficulty legitimately getting into the vast majority of the files, but some tried to elude him. Harper sighed. He might have to go back to Cargo and get his Black Box to sort this out. Or try his luck from the terminal on the Captain's console. 

	Well, first things first. Harper picked up a workstation tablet and isolated what decent information he could in the ship's main data storage, copying and then removing from the system what items he had clear access to. Crew files, bits of juicy info, inventories, previous ships' orders, even Officer's Logs. But the Captain's stuff... Yeah. Harper might have to hack this from the dead guy's office. Better vantage point, strategically speaking, anyway. And there were a few things that even the Lieutenant couldn't easily get to. Short of launching an attack against the mainframe's intrusion countermeasures, anyway. A ship like this might not have the most up to date stuff, but it would be decent. And Harper needed to brush up on his aspect of his technical expertise, though he had often believed that it was like riding a bike. 

	Nah, not attack. Find a way around. He would want his black box. 


[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] Foy-er -> Cargo [hr][/center]

	[color=f9ad81]"Indubitably."[/color] remarked Foy simply, then listened to the words of the soon departing Dorothy. [color=f9ad81]"Oh, never you worry, Madame. A Gentleman of Standing does not waste his time with Alliance issue textiles and sundries, not when there is depth of pocket and irreproachable taste at the vanguard! Ho ho!"[/color] He was accurate, if overly verbose. Foy carried and kept nothing either issued to, nor maintained by Alliance personnel. Guns, ammo, clothing, provisions, supplies, all was provided by either himself through channels or The Family Fixer. Every wealthy family needed a person who could get them things of the sort, the Coiffeurs were no exception.

	Foy was finally able to get the chair properly out of the door with the grav dolly, and used the opportunity to wheel the item smartly down the hallway. The use of the gurney lift seemed appropriate, and so with some gusto Foy finagled the chair into Cargo without incident. He unbuckled the dolly and hastily posted a sign on it, stating its status as "non perishable" goods. There was much to do before they disembarked, and he was eager to make sure that his personal and business effects were among the items traveling with them. Were he to join up with this crew permanently, he would need the trade skill to allow himself walking around money, provided he was on a backwater. Of course, it did all seem a bit like Pearls before Swine, his skill set plied on a settlement just starting out. But who he was and what he did was often used to get himself into and out of places he otherwise would not have been able to access. Social fluidity despite personal misgivings was one of his strong points.