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Harper spoke a quick "Yes ma'am." to Anisa. He rolled his personals back inside of the Cargo Bay and secured it off to the side, putting digital label of "PERSONAL GEAR - DO NOT SELL" upon it. He then searched for and located a standard Alliance crate among the recently stashed cargo, the very one containing the personal effects of the lady named Camilla, sadly someone who did not make it on board back in Whitefall.

Harper had to give it to this woman, she came prepared. And outfitted logistically with firearms that took the same type of ammunition. Come to mention, the same type as his Alliance service pistol. Harper found one weapon that suited his needs particularly; a 9mm Parabellum round utilizing Jericho 941. It was remarkably similar to his Glock variant, and had never been used by the Alliance as an issued weapon, ever. He took it and the accompanying holster, equipping them on site. Curious now, he continued looking through the deceased lady's belongings.

He found some interesting things in there. An old Alliance uniform, for example. Apparently, these Browncoats did draw from former Central military quite a bit. Would this be his fate as well? No matter. That was tomorrow. Today, he was raiding a dead lady's stuff to replace his Alliance issued belongings. Grenades, explosives, LOTS of ammunition. A couple of submachine guns that held little interest for him. Personal effects (that he had no business looking into, he was here for weapons). A good field knife. Yes, that was a keeper. He tucked it, and its sheath away on his person, replacing his military one. And then something caught his eye toward the side of the crate. It was beautiful. Harper wasn't a huge assault rifle fan, but this piece was lovely. Partially disassembled, there lay a Modernized AK Variant, complete with banana clips, wooden stocks and blackened steel. He swiftly reassembled the weapon and tested the action. This woman, whomever she was, had excellent taste in firearms. He was honored to carry them.

Pistol and knife aside, Harper shifted the remainder of the items he claimed for himself (rifle and ammo types) over to his own personal belongings, then immediately reported back outside. "I'm good to leave on order, ma'am. With your permission, I'd like to spend my time before you sell the vessel scrubbing her logs and personnel files; format the rest of the system back to factory standard afterward."

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As much as Foy appreciated the assistance of the Shepherd, he was beginning to find his continued explanation of the psychological nature of the lady in charge irksome. Between that and his display of... well, he wasn't sure what to call it, it held elements of what he perceived as sarcasm and sycophantic behavior. If he were back in the Georgia system, it seemed like a more long-winded version of "Well bless your heart!", with all of the negative connotations that came with it. All the same, if he still decided to stick around with these people, they would have to coexist with something that resembled civility. He adopted a voice slightly more cheerful than he actually felt, addressing Atticus. "Why Leviticus, I haven't the depth of philosophy nor breadth of intellect required to even begin to sort out the nature of whatever semi-transient deity finds humorous. Being as you are, ah... One Of The Boys, as it were? I find myself with particular luck this day that you are present to provide explanation about my similarity in this regard."

He began wheeling the barber's chair toward the door of his Foy-er. After moving it but a foot or two, he was greeted by a knock. Foy was curious as to who would actually knock, out of this crew. It seemed a social nicety that had been quite forgotten. He imagined that he would have to stick with the crew for a bit, if for no other reason than to give them an example of gentility and manners. But even so, his tiny parlor in the ship was the sort of place where folks rather popped their heads in to see if there was an opening available. Curious, Foy set down the dolly and the chair strapped down to it, and stepped forward to open the door.

"Why, Miss Pender! We have not gotten adequate time to acquaint ourselves with one another, I am afraid. Perhaps we should rectify this obvious social faux pas. Might I interest you in a cut and style, before we pack everything away? We might engage in light conversation during. Or are you here for matters with more official intent?"

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What little of the skeleton crew remained nodded and finished getting things together. Anisa had made sure it was clear that they were not going to be joining them after this and they would be leaving after getting paid later on that day. She knew it was a risk to let them go instead of just putting a bullet in their skulls but there were downsides to that action as well. She just hoped pay off was enough. Or at least enough to buy them time to get off world once a new ship had been purchased. That was another reason she wanted those that were not staying off the ship today. Best she didn't advertise the new ship once it was acquired.

Anisa stood outside the ship, slowly puffing on a cigarette as she waited the buyer and half way keeping an eye out for Daphne. Everyone had seen the girl leave, she walked straight down the very dock that they had been standing on. A blind person would have been aware she had left. Though she wasn't going to deal with her when she returned. That was on Dorothy now and it would be the final judgement on whether the sisters stayed or left.

Looking over towards Harper Anisa nodded. "Yes, strip everything down you can. Let's get things cleaned up, I want a final scrub down of the surfaces as well once we get everything moved out. I don't even want a a cell of a skin sample left behind. Might want to talk to Foy Jr. about that," she said, referring to Jahosafat. Taking a breath she flicked the end of her cigarette, letting the ash fall to the ground. "And see what files you can back up. There were some on the ship that had a file or two, I want to be able to take a closer look at those. Not yours, just wipe that. Put them on a private tablet we can destroy once I am finished reviewing them if you could," she added.

Atticus smiled over towards Foy and shook his head a bit. "I mean it as the highest compliment. A man that can bring a smile to anyone's face despite everything that has been going down lately. Well it's a blessing, so don't scowl so much. It ruffles your hair out of place," he said before glancing over towards Dorothy as she came in. "Well hey girl needing a new copy of the Giddeon bible?" he teased.

Jahosafat stood off in a corner as he watched Harper going through Camilla's things. It didn't sit right with him but he hadn't said anything as of yet. Following him as he left the room he stepped out onto the dock after a few minutes and looked over towards Anisa. "I dare say dear woman, would it be within your reason of permission to allow me access to my dearly departed Camilla's possessions? There are a few personal items of hers I would hate to see destroyed and perhaps one or two to send back to her family. They deserve to know even if they were on the outs," he said as he ran his finger along the brim of his hat.

Anisa cocked a brow and let out a huff. "Yeah go aheads but be quick about it and let Harper be the one to send anything or transmissions."

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Dorothy rolled her eyes slightly at Atticus at the prospect of another copy of the Bible. Had there been time, she would've gone out of her way to chuck a biology text at his head. It was the way the pair of them tended to communicate. And even with the tragedy a few days back, it seemed that some things never changed. At Foy, she forced a bit of a smile, having not yet trusted the man with her hair.

"Official intent, yes," Dorothy replied, nodding a bit as she stepped into the Foy-er. "Consider this your official reminder: anything that's Alliance brand, can't keep it. Anything that could be identified as Alliance, can't keep that either. Nothing that could be used to track us or identify us." Her eyes swept around the Foy-er, noting that the man had already been in the process of packing. Good. One less crisis for her to deal with. She had finally decided on Daphne's punishment and her sister was nowhere to be seen: cleaning the new ship from top to bottom. Dorothy didn't care if it was already spotless when they purchased it. It was an exercise in discipline.

"I'll be going around an' checking to make sure everything's in order," Dorothy added. She then paused awkwardly. "I'll be in the cargo bay if you need anything." She then gave a curt nod of farewell and turned around to leave the Foy-er. The sooner everything was in order, she figured, the better things would be. Everyone on the ship had been notified to not bring anything Alliance brand with them, no matter what. She made her way back to her own quarters and grabbed her own bags, already packed, with nothing Alliance brand remaining in them. Hoisting them over her shoulder, she made her way to the cargo bay, and set her possessions down with the other. They were neatly labeled Dorothy P. - Personal Items.

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Fitz was looking around at the large crowds in the town, lost in his own thoughts simultaneously. Unlike the University of Osiris, where he knew pretty much every soul in the engineering department, he knew no one here. His nervous stammer had been coming out more and more, making it almost impossible for him to purchase the items he needed to continue on traveling. His last ride had left him here at Newhope, no longer welcoming passengers as they continued on. It wasn't his fault--it was just the end of the line.

He glanced down at his friendship bracelet, made entirely out of wires, and smiled a bit. He had some good memories from the University, of course. But his daydreaming was cut short, as he collided head on with a short brown haired girl. "Oh my g-goodness, I'm so s-sorry," Fitz stammered, having dropped his bag in the process. He bent down to pick it up, knowing that thievery was to be expected in these parts, and looked uneasily up at the girl he'd knocked into.

"A-are you alright?" Fitz asked, fidgeting with his hands and eventually putting them both on the strap of his bag. He didn't even notice Daphne's stalker. "I-I'm Fitz--engineering," he added, introducing himself awkwardly.

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Mei continued to eye the actions of the brown haired girl closely, but she had to admit she wasn't expecting much. It seemed like she was heading back to the ship. Which was good as it meant she could ascertain the best way to get on board. However, before she knew it, a man had collided with her, sending them both to the ground. Mei wasn't a stranger to the streets and often thieves like to fake "accidents" in order to steal. She eyed the man closely to see if he would take her money or anything else of value.

It seemed to not be the case though. The man was just a klutz. She eyed the encounter warily though. She wasn't obligated to the woman, of course, but still, she didn't like seeing people taken advantage of if they didn't deserve it and as far as she knew, the woman didn't deserve it. IF she were Alliance, the chances may increase that she does deserve it, but until there was proof in front of her she had no reason to suspect otherwise.

The man was interesting, to say the least. She would keep an eye on him until her quarry moved.

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Daphne hadn't really been paying much attention to those who passed her. She just kept walking back towards the docks, back towards the ship. Knowing that she might be in trouble or something didn't make her feel any better, and it certainly didn't make her walk any faster. Daphne glanced up as she walked, but she clearly didn't do so soon enough. When she looked up, she just had time to catch a glimpse of someone as the walked right into her, practically knocking her down. She managed to steady herself before she looked up at the man who had hit her.

The man was taller than her by a few inches, and the first thing she noticed besides that was his blue eyes, but she didn't need to say anything about that. This man intrigued her, and made her feel better since she clearly wasn't the only one in this town who wasn't really watching where she was going. He had a clear stutter as he apologized, but she didn't really mind that. "Don't worry about it," she said to him with a smile as he introduced himself. The man seemed a little bit formal with his introduction which surprised her a little bit. "Names Daphne, I'm a pilot," she continued, still smiling towards him, hoping to make him more comfortable talking to her.

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"Yes, Ma'am." 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 some people 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.

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"Indubitably." remarked Foy simply, then listened to the words of the soon departing Dorothy. "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!" 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.

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As the town continued to move around those that were out and about things at the ship were as calm as could be hoped for. Anisa nodded towards Harper. This was putting a lot of trust in the man, someone she hardly knew. It didn't sit right with her but at this point she didn't have much of a choice. There was no one on her current old staff with the Vengeance that had the skills needed to wipe the drives as well as he supposedly could. All she could do was try to have a little faith that he wouldn't sell them up the creek with what she had put him in charge of. Granted, she knew things about him that he had told her she could always use to hang over his head and return the favor should he decide to put a knife in her back. Only time would tell. It wasn't that she wanted to use blackmail to get the job done but for the safety of her known crew she would.

She needed to have faith but faith wasn't exactly her department. That was Atticus. Who was right now smirking a bit at Dorothy. He half had expected her to pull a biology book out of no where and chuck it at her. Taking a breath he smiled before excusing himself from the two of them, Dorothy and Foy. He still needed to take care of his own personal effects and wanted to get that done before Anisa rained down fire and brimestone from the bowels of hell on top of him. He might have been a drunk from time to time and had his own sins and vices to deal with but he wasn't stupid. Having her wrath pointed at him was something he felt not even the Lord God Almighty could protect him from.

Heading back to what had been his temporary quarters he began to get his things together. It wasn't like he had much to go, he had never been one to hoard things. So it shouldn't have been a difficult task. While he was tending to that, Jahosafat made his way to the cargo bay and started going through Camilla's personal effects. He noticed that there was much missing he would have expected her to have but he paid it no never mind. He was there for personal items, not weapons of mass destruction. And he found more than what he was looking for.

He knew the silk scarf as soon as he spotted it and could only give a sadden smile as he took it gingerly in his fingers. Running the tips over the soft fabric before folding it nicely and placing it in his front breast pocket. Then he found the ring. That struck a chord with him. He knew who it was from and it's meaning. She had shown it to him ages ago. She was always so sad when she did but she smiled nonetheless. She had mentioned that she hoped that one day that Quinn could find peace and return to being the man she had fallen in love with. Perhaps now he had. Jahosafat had found some solace in the hope that perhaps that loony preacher was right about an after life. Perhaps they were together now, in peace, enjoying the life this world had never given them.

Taking a few others things and her box of mementos he made his way over to his personal effects and added the crate to them. He would ship some home to her family with a carefully worded letter of condolences. It was not the best way to handle it, he would have rather addressed them in person but at least now they would know that their daughter was gone and not be left wondering for the rest of their lives if she was okay or not. It was horrid new to give a family but it was better than the unknown in his mind.

Anisa was growing impatient as the minutes ticked by and was about to turn and leave the docks to find a new buyer when the one she had made arrangements with finally showed his weasley face. "Well top of the mornin' to ya lass," he said as he tipped his bowler hat and spoke in in the worst cockney accent. Anisa had to stop from rolling her eyes.

"About time you showed up, I was about to call my other buyer."

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Dorothy smiled a bit as she saw people coming into the cargo bay, carrying various pieces of belongings. Foy had some sort of chair with him--one that Dorothy felt certain, after his long winded assurances, wasn't Alliance brand at all. And Jahosafat, from what she could tell, had been scavenging some of Camilla's belongings and putting them with his own. It felt awful, seeing Camilla's life reduced to just items in a box, but there wasn't anything to say or do about it. She was a doctor, not a necromancer.

Rolling up her sleeves, Dorothy then switched into the second part of her task from Anisa: inspecting the items that were packed away. Daphne, as far as Dorothy was aware, hadn't returned yet. But the sooner she reprimanded her little sister, the better. An organized and methodical person, Dorothy hated having an urgent task sitting on the back burner like this, but there wasn't anything she could do, short of running into town and looking for Daphne everywhere. That would just waste everyone's time.

Whistling softly to herself as she got to work, Dorothy started inspecting the crates that had been set aside in the cargo bay carefully, doing her best to respect the privacy of individuals. Though there wasn't much she could do with that, really, beyond not reading anything personal and going as quickly as she could, while still being effective. She checked for Alliance brand items and those that could be easily identified as from the Retribution and pulled anything that she found out from the crates.

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Fitz smiled gratefully at Daphne, relieved to see the woman smiling at him. Despite his clumsiness for bumping into her, she didn't seem to be mad at all. Rubbing the back of his head a bit nervously, he chuckled awkwardly, before his eyes widened as Daphne revealed she was a pilot. He couldn't quite believe his luck. He had been intending to head to the docks later on to find a ship that either needed passengers or a decent engineer.

"Th-that's wicked cool," Fitz said earnestly. "Wh-what kind of ships have you flown and where to...if you don't mind me asking?" He blushed slightly, worried that she'd find him to be odd or too inquisitive. He knew all about the mechanics of ships and the science behind it, but never had he ever dreamt of getting to pilot one of them. To meet someone who piloted ships, someone so young as well, he felt a bit dazzled and stunned. Maybe she'd have some sort of advice for him, when it came to looking for a ship to travel with as well. But of course, he couldn't help but feel a bit presumptuous.

"I-I understand if you're busy...You're probably very busy, forget I said anything," Fitz finished, tapping his fingers against his head, as if it would make his brain work a little bit faster. He was always so clueless when it came to social situations. It was his lot in life--he spent his time around engineers at a university. And those types had never been well known for their social skills.

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This guy clearly had some social issues or whatever. He hardly took a breath before he started talking again. Never even gave her a chance to answer his first questions before he started talking again. Fitz was nervous, and Daphne was having problems coming up with ways to fix this problem. She never thought that anyone could be this nervous talking to someone, even if they had just met them. Daphne kind of liked him, and she thought about the possibility of him joining her on her way back to the ship. He clearly was curious about what she flew, but she didn't really trust him completely. The thought crossed her mind that he might be part of the Alliance, so she knew that she needed to be careful about what she said to him.

"Once again, I say don't worry about it. I'm not terribly busy," she said, still smiling at him. Daphne was still hoping to reassure him to not be so nervous, but the odds of that seemed slim. "I've flown to a lot of different places, actually when you ran into me I was on my way back to the docks". She didn't know whether she could trust him, but if he ran into the Captain and she decided not to trust him, they weren't for the better or the worst. Daphne figured that if he decided to accompany her in going to the docks, he might be able to see if he could pay for passage on board. Who knew what could happen, however she probably shouldn't mention that the Captain can have a bit of a temper, though she was never going to say that to Anisa's face.

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These two were really boring to watch. Mei was getting real impatient. If something didn't happen soon, she was going to march to the ship herself and get on board. Still, she felt that since she watched this woman the whole time, she may as well see it through. The woman definitely didn't carry herself as an Alliance person. She had a feeling the answers would be back at the ship.

The man though, he was unknown. And Mei didn't like unknowns. He seemed to be nervous and that could be for a number of reasons. It could be he has social issues, it could be because he's talking to a pretty girl, he could be acting. Who knew? It was getting later and later and soon it would become obvious she was watching them. If things didn't progress she would take her chances. She didn't want a firefight, but wouldn't back down either. Maybe she could just get the information she wanted, if it was even on there, and be on her way? Would the Alliance be ok with that?

Not if they knew her. While they wouldn't know her personally, she was sure her record was out there and could easily be searched. She debated going by another name, but it wasn't like she was afraid. And she knew her reuptation spoke for itself. She got shit done. Maybe that would benefit her.

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But of course, his Cortex Terminal was back in Cargo. Harper was hoping for a quick info download, followed by a serious default restoration to core systems, but no... Of course, it wouldn't take very long as soon as he could access the Captain's personals. Ordinarily, it would be near impossible to have an uninterrupted period in the Captain's Office, Alliance protocols and the fact that they were in what was supposed to be a tightly controlled Patrol Vessel. But Harper had been afforded an opportunity.

He stood from the station terminal on the Bridge and turned around on his heel, showing the utmost of professional, military discipline. He strode to the door leading to the ship's main corridor, listening to the quiet mechanical hiss of its opening, and then again as he stepped through and it shut behind him. Then he took off at a run. There was a buyer coming, and at some point he'd want to take a tour of the ship before purchase. The concept of cleaning out the system was valid, even with a legitimate sale, but doing so with a black box personal terminal was a little shadier, if said buyer was able to recognize the device as such. It stood to reason that he return to his belongings in the Cargo Bay and retrieve his tech as expediently as possible.

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A tip of the cap was provided to Atticus. "I should wish to express particular appreciation for your assistance thusfar in matters mundane and laborious, Deuteronomy." The bout with unnecessary impoliteness aside, the Preacher did make good on his word to aid him in tucking away the smaller elements of his parlor. Moving the tiny oasis of culture and gentlemanly relaxation that was the Foy-er would be a simple matter of closing up a couple of custom cases and a mirrored wardrobe; rolling it down to Cargo stood as a standard affair. Thus was the niftiness of the Professional Barber On The Go and his capacity to provide services, provided he could locate a more or less decently sized walk-in closet within which to set up shop.

"If you would be as kind as to excuse me, sir? I sense that my presence is more compassionately invested with a word to by fellow Farradayan." He moved to tip his fancy bowler hat again to Atticus, but instead spun it from his perfectly scaped head of hair with a dramatic flourish, effecting a bow and turning his attention over to Jahosafat. He walked over to the debonair gentleman, and in a quietsh (for him) voice started, "My dear illustrious sir, scheduling and situation have not given us proper opportunity to engage in the conversational arts during these last few days. I cannot fully grasp the depth and breadth of emotion that you are engulfed within, but suffice it to say, I shall do my best to provide noteworthy discussion or distraction, at your specification, as time presents it."

"Point of fact, my good man, there bears one such opportunity after this fine vessel has been claimed by the merchantfolk, to participate in some localization. Slumming, if you will; the taking in of the surroundings of this new port of call. Perhaps we might get in a bit of shopping, purchase the company of the "local fauna", and later find a watering hole or supper club from where we may speak of less formal, more personal matters. What say you, Josie? You friend was a soldier, of sorts? Allow me to assist you in giving her a private, soldier's sendoff."

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Things for Dorothy were going well. There wasn't much found with either an Alliance or Retribution tag mixed in with what the crew was taking with them. What was found seemed to be simple over sights, small bar codes here or there that most wouldn't know to look for if they hadn't worked for the Alliance previously or were in a hurry. And those things were small - food stores, tools. Nothing major and it was easily removed. Thankfully it didn't seem like anyone was doing anything devious or to undermine the crew or its staff.

Anisa had a stern look on her face as she passed through the cargo with the buyer, who was trying to barter the price down heavily but Anisa being how she was was standing her ground. The woman didn't have time for fools and her patience had already been taxed for the day. She hoped to god that her crew finished up soon and they could get off this boat permanently. There would be no new hires or guests allowed until after the sale was complete and a new ship was purchased. Anisa didn't want anyone that didn't already know about the Retribution to see it and try to join up. It was just plain common sense to keep as few ties as possible. She was already taking a risk bringing on crew from the Retribution but the ones she had taken on seemed to have no strong ties and Dorothy had worked out for her.

Jahosafat looked up from going through Camilla's things as Anisa walked by, simply tipping his hat to her before going back to his memories. It wasn't until Foy came over that his focus seemed to be able to be fully distracted. "Why that sounds most welcome my dear sir. A night out on the town is just what I need to stiffen this upper lip. A round of cards sounds like a most delightful way to pass the evening. I do say, I hear the Captain is quite the good hand, as is that Revelations chap. Perhaps we should bring them along. We all could do with a bit of vice. And I wouldn't mind separating them from a few coins if you get my drift," he said as he rose from his spot and gave a broad grin. The thought was the first thing that brought out the light he was known for instead of the morose way he had been acting the last few days.

And there was just the spot in town. It was slumming it but some of the best games and highest stakes went down at this particular setting. Known as Lady Lucks (yeah, you know you're screwed now don't you?) - The place catered to the largest wallets and the most shady of characters. A three story building set between the lowest and most crime ridden part of town and the highest and most plush on the other side. A melting pot of debauchery and silver spoons. The place never closed and there was hardly ever a stop of a game. Cards, and more constantly being conducted on the second floor, the first floor was a bar and food, dancing even. The top floor - that was for other things.

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A smile graced Dorothy's grace as she continued checking the crew's packed items. While there were some little mistakes, none were intentional and took a careful eye. If she hadn't formerly been with the Alliance, even she could have missed a couple of them. No one was intentionally out to spite or disobey the captain, a definite plus with the ragtag crew they had assembled. Not all of them had been with them on the Vengeance and easily could have carried grudges for what happened on Whitefall. They had lost not just their captain, after all, but their ship and perhaps even their dignity.

She removed the little mistakes, muttering a slight bit of thanks underneath her breath. She needed things to go well--hell, the entire crew needed things to go well. They were in a stolen Alliance vessel, after all. They were bound to attract attention until they got off the gorrham ship and into the new vessel. Hopefully with her sister receiving a just and fair punishment, without too much of a scene, in the process.

And while Dorothy could hear Jahosafat and Foy's conversation, she tried her best not to pry. She was already going through personal possessions and belongings, after all. Much more and she'd feel almost like a spy, examining each and every member of the crew. She nodded slightly at the two men as she passed by them, checking as discretely as she could through the remainder of the items packed away. Anisa had asked her to load items into the holding dock that was rented once the check was done and Dorothy had nearly finished. Of course, she'd need to recruit a few more hands to move things.

Still no sign of Daphne. Ta ma duh. Her eyes glanced up towards Foy and Jahosafat. The two of them were standing in the cargo bay and chatting, perhaps they'd be able to help her move things to the holding dock.

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Fitz was trying his best to stay cool, but he was becoming hyper aware of everything going on. Each breath he took seemed to him either too big or too small, as if Daphne would judge him for his breathing patterns. He couldn't remember what to do with his hands, trying to look casual and relaxed, but putting so much effort into that did the exact opposite. Little twitches and ticks came out from his nervousness, no matter how much he tried to relax and calm himself down. Daphne's smile did seem to help slightly, but it didn't solve his fidgety and restless behavior, as he continued to focus so hard on acting normal and interacting in a socially acceptable manner that he simply couldn't.

"R-right, sorry, Daphne," Fitz apologized, apologizing for his constant apologies. "W-would you know any ships looking for p-passengers or engineers? I'm tr-trying to get out, see the 'verse and all..." He smiled timidly at her. Despite knocking into her, she easily seemed to be one of the more approachable people on Newhope. If his stuttering seemed bad with the kind and patient seeming Daphne, it would've been much worse with a rougher personality. He might even melt into a puddle.

He scratched his neck a bit, feeling a slight itch. He didn't expect that Daphne's ship herself would have openings--that would be too lucky. But pilots knew other pilots, right? Maybe she'd have an idea of where he should go to look.

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A fresh unlit cigaret hung from between grinning lips, lips that were slightly swollen from a recent split and stained with a faint red smear, a mix of blood and rich lipstick. An old tattered rucksack sat freely around his feet. In his left hand, beyond the bruised knuckles, he held a near empty bottle of beer. Just one of the many that had passed his hands that day. In his right hand a pair of dice rattled together as he vigorously shook them. Then in hopes for some sort of extra luck, he stoked them down along his beard as he contemplated his chances. It wasn't too good. Cards were his forte after all, not dice.
He had hardly come to this situation on his own accord, beside him on either side stood two very powerful motivators in the forms of beautiful stunning women. It was only after a little playful persuasion that they had easily lured him away from the poker tournament to the roulette table instead. After the trouble they had got him into, he could hardly let them down now.

Aiden had put down enough money to keep things exciting for them. He knew he only had their interest as long as the stakes were high. As he got ready to roll, the blonde to the right took his hand and softly, slowly, sensually pressed her lips to the back of his closed fingers. But it was her eyes that got him, that devilish playful glare. He chuckled to himself shaking his head as he stared right back at her. Exuding his nonchalant confident boyish charm he carelessly flung the dice across the table without even a twitch or glance. His eyes stayed trained on hers. A contest began as the dice tumbled over themselves growing nearer and nearer to settling. Who would succumb and look away to the table first.

They giggled to themselves, caught up in childish games amidst such stakes.
The sound of rolling dice slowed, made clear by the sudden hush of the spectators as breaths became held. The brunette on his left squeezed his shoulder so tightly in her growing anxious excitement that her fake nails dug painfully into his skin. One die stopped. A gasp took the crowd. Aiden tauntingly bounced his eyebrows. The second die clicked against the back edge. The blondes smile slowly wavered. The tension grew. The time was near. Curiosity was high. The brunet slipped something into his drink. The dice teetered on its final edge. It was truly now a make or break moment!

And there Aiden was, calm and relaxed, standing around a busy roulette table putting more focus on flirting than his money. A little tipsy from the alcohol, just enough to take away the sting of his earlier fight. Here he was in his zone and he loved it. The 'lucky lady' was truly his kind of place after all. Even if he was starting to wear out his welcome amongst the more senior regulars.

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Mei was just about fed up with this romantic comedy scene unfolding in front of her. She had very little patience for waiting so she bid the both of them a silent farewell as she made her way back to the docks. She would have to think of something else. Perhaps there were others on the ship that could be of some use? Perhaps she should sneak on board? Either way, she needed to get whatever information she could glean from the ship and be on her way.

As she approached the ship, she watched it for a bit to make sure nothing else was going on. As far as she could see, there were a lot of boxes, but nothing else going on. Perhaps this was just a cargo run? Maybe they were exchanging ships? Either way, she didn't much care. She made her way towards the ship, keeping an eye out for any other Alliance personnel or local law enforcement. Once she figured the coast was clear, she said a silent prayer to herself before slipping through the door and into the cargo bay, ducking behind some boxes at the first chance she could get.

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Daphne thought for a moment about it, and thought about the crew. She thought that Gideon was probably staying, but she wasn't too sure. Though they could always use another right? At the moment, from what she could tell, there were two pilots and two doctors already, so what difference would another mechanic make? Gideon was great at fixing up the ship, but he couldn't fix everything on the ship by himself, as she knew all too well from their detour trip to Whitefall. It took a while for him to fix the ship, and they still left on another vessel. She still remembers the various crash landings that had happened on Whitefall while they were either running from the Alliance or the Reavers. If they had another mechanic, it might make it so that they didn't have those problems too often.

She continued smiling at Fitz, and said "I don't know about any ships. Ours is not taking anyone right now, and we just got here not too long ago. So sorry about that, in a few days we might be but that's all I know". Daphne knew that they were working on getting another ship, so everything was a bit chaotic and hectic back at the docks for the crew. If Fitz came to the docks looking for their ship in a few days, maybe Anisa will allow him on board, but that was all she could do. Getting rid of the Alliance ship was top priority, so she probably should be heading back to the ship and help out moving things around.

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The soft and swift report of footfalls upon floor heralded the approach of the former Alliance pilot; that status being one of the facts about himself he verified of his own volition. Considering the status of his present persona, dead or estranged from the chain of command, it might be said that is was doubly true: Former Alliance Pilot. But no matter. Harper sped to the Cargo Bay, intent on picking up some tech from his personal belongings to assist in his endeavors with the Retribution's onboard computer systems, particularly the Captain's accessible items.

For those inside of the Cargo Bay, the sound of those footfalls would have become evident a second or two before the man himself skidded to a halt in front of the open doors to the area proper, one hand clutching the frame around the aperture to assist in his deceleration and change of direction. In the next half-second when he fully noticed his surroundings, he stopped short and suddenly adopted a more polished demeanor, like a kid who just realized that the adults caught him doing something slightly embarrassing. It seemed that Cargo was the place to be right then.

"This seems to be a very popular room." he stated to no one in particular, "Are we having a meeting and nobody told me?" He scanned the room, trying to figure out who all was present. It looked like over half of the ship, at least of those who remained after the purge of personnel following their landing. He strode over to the area designated for personal effects leaving the ship after the sale, and found his stack. Being a man of uncertain means and very recently back in the habit of owning property, there wasn't much to sort through. "I'll just be a moment. Need something to speed along final diagnostics and formatting." he didn't see Anisa right then, so he risked glances at Dorothy as he spoke, being as she was next in the chain.

Locating his black box terminal, Harper repacked his case and turned to leave for the Captain's Office. Before he got halfway to the door, he turned to Jahosafat. "Ah, Doctor? The Captain insisted that I talk to you about a physical sterilization of the vessel a little later? Down to the microbe, if possible. I'll find you when I'm done, Doctor." With that, he turned again to exit.

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Watching the approach of the Pilot, who had seemingly altered something fundamental about himself, Foy got curious. There was something about Harper that he couldn't quite pin down, and this latest development had him quite perplexed. He resolved to keep an eye on the man, and not for the first time. Foy nodded to his childhood friend, stating, "Have you noticed, good sir, that our man Harper appears in significantly greater repose as of late? I should reason an instance such as the one in which we presently find ourselves enmeshed would manufacture a more overall imposition of tension in a straightlaced military officer." He twirled the tip of hi moustache in one hand, musing to himself, "If I may flex my Carroll: Curiouser and curiouser..."

"But I digress!" he exclaimed, remembering his manners before it was entirely too late. "It has indeed been too long since we have mutually participated in a good debauch! Particularly as it would be to the memory of a fellow Contractor, though our acquaintanceship was harrowingly brief." It was true, he saw Camilla for approximately two minutes before her life was taken from her. He didn't even know her name until after the deed was done. Nonetheless, a Soldier of Fortune, even one who had found a solid cause, linked them in an odd, intangible way. Maybe it was kismet; one merc dies, another stands ready to take her place. Well, if Foy could come to terms with the Captain. "Absolutely, Josie. I accept your proposition as it becomes nearer the evening hour, and if you insist on the invitation of the Lady Captain and Leviticus, it may behoove our interests to make their evening's festivities, ah... gratis, you understand? In the meantime, I shall busy myself with the transportation of the remaining cases that represent my parlor, mobile though it is. I shall return momentarily, sir."

Yes, a good way to spend a little R&R. His mind was already going through the possibilities of a moneyed individual in a port city. "I do look forward to a proficient 'stache waxing, if you take my meaning..."

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Anisa took the buyer over to the engine room where Gideon was so the man could poke and prod it. Anisa was getting impatient at this point and Gideon didn't seem to be taking too well to someone poking around his area. Gideon had not been happy about Harper either. Now there were two engineers on the ship, just as there were two pilots. Harper just happened to be the second for both and while Harper hadn't taken over the engine room, he had taken over the bridge. Gideon had made his opinion known on his to Anisa but she brushed it off and warned him if he kept it up he could be replaced as well. Gideon shut up then.

Atticus finished packing up his things and started moving them over to the Cargo bay while Jahosafat was speaking with Foy. The preacher smiled a bit, happy to see that the Doctor seemed to be cheering up. Harper seemed to be speaking to the man as well. "Why of course, I will make sure there isn't a helix left on this ship once everyone is off," he assured Harper before turning his attention back to his old friend.

"Oh ho ho ho my good man, I do indeed! Will make inquires about it once I am finished with the rounds and get this ship polished perfection. Shall we say around six this evening my good man? We can find a bit of something for our hunger and then head off to places of debauchery on a full stomach!" he said looking forward to some time off the ship. Atticus cocked a brow and looked over to them as he set his things down.

"Sins of the flesh? Oh I could use a vice or two this evening myself," he said with a grin. It was no secret that the preacher was anything but a completely holy man. "Hey Dorothy, you need any help? I'm all done with my packing."

Over in The Lady Luck, Luck was not being a lady tonight. As the dice fell, Aiden's number was up and he lost the toss. There went the money he had laid down on this round. Though maybe it wasn't the end of his luck or perhaps his luck had went elsewhere, somewhere more valuable. What was slipped into his drink was a common enough tactic of the women of Lady Luck's, a simple drug that would dissolve quickly, was tasteless, and would make the men on their arms much more willing to do what they wanted. Like go back to a room and go to sleep while they were robbed blind.

Easy Street was the name of the drug but for Aiden, it just didn't seem to be working. Seemed Lady Luck was on his side. Money gone, drug not working. Gave him the perfect excuse to move on to something else and away from them now that their attention was starting to waiver. An impatient lot was a good way to describe the women of Lady Luck's. They wanted quick, easy, and rich marks. Seemed that Aiden was not going to fit the bill. Had he won the round he would have pulled in plenty and could have made a real run for it in the next game, something that was worth their time but the dice had held onto their edge and plopped down to leave his wanted winnings in the hand of the Croupier. The loss caused a riotous laughter from the crowd around the table that wafted out to the streets.

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From the reaction of the crowd he knew it was bad. Fearing to look he covered his eyes with his hand then slowly peeked through his fingers. "God damn!" He suddenly burst out with a disappointed groan as he slapped the table. Followed by a chuckle Aiden quickly regained his composure.
"Oh well" he sighed. With a shrug he explained "If you don't try you will never know."
Now back at square one Aiden finished his drink, thanked everyone around the table, threw out a few friendly nods and handshakes, got his cigaret lit and headed outside to clear his head. Of course not before cheekily grabbing and squeezing the girls behinds and giving them a firm yet playful slap as he said his farewell.

"Stay out of trouble you two." he said with a sly taunting smile, pointing at them as he backed away.
He knew who they were from the start so it was no surprise or burden when they almost immediately bounced to the next high-roller.
"Oh shit." In the commotion of his loss Aiden almost forgot about his rucksack. Darting back to the table he picked it up, only a moment ago a hero of the table now a poor simple stranger, already forgotten he quickly moved on.

---

The cigaret in his lips was burned halfway through, a fresh beer rested tightly in his hand. His back pressed against the cold solid wall of outside as he leaned lazily against it with his foot raised. His rucksack was once again at his feet but this time the cord was coiled around his free hand.

The open fresh air felt good. His head felt strangely murky. Once again he wasn't alone. He joined a small group of guys loitering outside for various reasons. Broke, drunk, waiting for someone, hiding from someone. There were a few small laughs as each told their recent stories. Aiden embellished a little on his own as he was sure the others did too.

He told how he came through on an exciting game of cards to clean out a smug old rich bastard. How when he lost the old man abused the floozies at his side and Aiden being the honourable man decked his personal security guard and took the ladies. But as with everyone's story outside it was Lady Lucks who won in the end.

As if to prove a point Aiden wiped off the residue lipstick from his lips using the hand baring his bruised knuckles.

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Dorothy held in a bit of a chuckle as she observed Harper's awkward entrance, the sound of his footsteps alerting her of his arrival a few seconds in advance. It was almost reassuring, seeing that small bit of humanity in the man. And at the same time, it was comforting. He didn't seem to be nearly as eccentric as the other former Alliance members, members that Dorothy assumed would be staying with them for the foreseeable future. She shook her head slightly as Harper asked whether there was a meeting being held in the Cargo Bay. Of course, Dorothy did feel a bit frustrated that more people weren't present - her sister, mainly, who needed to both get a decent lecture and punishment, as well as bring her own things down.

"Shiny," Dorothy replied to Harper, nodding as he grabbed the Black Box. It felt a little bit odd, still, for him to inform her of his actions - but she'd need to get used to it, if she was going to be second in command. It also felt strange not being in charge of medical anymore, but strange seemed to be the new normal on the ship. She watched Harper exit, after a quick exchange with the Doctor (who was still talking about vices with the barber), when she heard Atticus chimed in and audibly gagged.

"You've had enough vices for a lifetime, Preacher," Dorothy teased, a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. But of course, she was more focused on his offer of help, something that couldn't be overlooked. With all of the boxes quickly piling up in the cargo bay, there was no way she'd be able to move them all herself in time. "And yes, help would be just shiny. We need to move all of these boxes to holding dock the Captain rented." An extra pair of hands would help to speed things along, but a few other ones would help as well. But for now, she'd make do with Atticus.

And maybe give him a lecture on alcoholism on the way to and from the holding dock. For his education, of course. And safety. Not at all to get him riled up.

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Had Fitz been desperately hoping to head onto Daphne's ship and sail away with her, he would have been crushed. He would have been gutted. But given that he just bumped into her in the street, he felt more awkward about his question than anything else. Despite her assurances that she wasn't too busy and that he wasn't wasting her time, he felt like he was making a nuisance out of himself. He forced a smile back at her, nodding as she finished her explanation.

"Th-that's alright, I think I'll be able to m-manage somehow," Fitz replied, laughing a bit uneasily. Maybe he'd look for her and her ship in a few days. Maybe he'd already be on another vessel. As long as he got to get out and see the world, he thought he'd be happy. There had to be other patient and kind people like Daphne, and if not, he'd have to learn to face his fears eventually.

Though he wasn't really looking forward to that.

"If I'm still h-here in a few days, what ship should I look for?" Fitz then asked, figuring it wouldn't hurt to have a back up plan. He was an engineer, after all. He always came up with alternative solutions and contingency plans. It was in his nature, as much a part of him as that nervous stutter was.