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Mei crept a bit in place, but she remained where she was. There were too many people in the Cargo Bay for her to get anywhere else. And from the looks of it, it seemed to be a busy place. They were moving a few things around, it seemed. Were they abandoning the ship? If so, why? A few crew members mentioned going to the local Lady Luck. Could be interesting if she were to follow them there. She may find out more information from them.

The woman mentioned something about a holding dock. It seemed the Captain of this vessel was moving ship. That posed a few possibilities for her. She could either hold out until this ship was emptied of its belongings and crew, risking the possibility of a memory wipe of their files, or she could follow them to the new ship and get what she needed there. Or, and this seemed that much more likely, perhaps she could find herself a spot on said ship. Perhaps they were looking for more crew to join them?

She stayed quiet, thinking. She could potentially learn some more information to use later. Otherwise, she may just be making her way over to the Lady Luck tonight.

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Daphne thought for a moment. Fitz still was clearly nervous, so if he was in a rush to get off planet that was fine with her. However, it might be a good idea for him to have a backup plan, in case he didn't have a ship to get on by the time they were ready to leave. They were getting a new ship, but she hadn't been paying attention much to know what type of ship they were getting, so she didn't know how to answer him about that. Daphne didn't really know what to say, but figured that he deserved some sort of answer.

"Well, we're kind of getting a new ship right now, which is the main reason we're not having new people. Too chaotic already. So I'm not too sure what ship it is actually, clearly I didn't pay too much attention to what type of ship we were getting. You'll probably be able to spot me somewhere on the docks if you were looking though. Sorry that I couldn't be much help," she said to him, and continued smiling at him, "If your still here, then you probably would be welcome aboard, just look around, you'd probably find me around".

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Tech secured, Harper took a quick jog back to the fore. He paused for a second, considering his options. Basic information on the ship and items of a technical nature were readily accessible from the Bridge, true, but he had already gathered what he could from the Bridge. At least, what a Lieutenant could gather from the Bridge. After the nabbing what he could and covering his tracks, most of the systems were back to default. It would take a little doing, but recovery might be possible with time and a little effort.

The problem was that all the good stuff would require Captain's access. Ordinarily, the Bridge would be the optimal spot to access what he needed, but as he couldn't manage to screw together a Captain's rank for this little endeavor, he would have to take this to the old man's office. Affecting a flawless Alliance Right Face, he threw a salute at the office door and boldly stated, "Requesting permission to enter, sir!"

Nothing...

Harper put a hand to his ear, as if actually listening to the absent dead guy. Cocking his head to the side, he waited for a second or two before responding to himself with a satirical, "...Thank you, Cap'n!" and stepping through the door. After knowing the Captain for a scant few days, this office was everything he had expected it was. Organized, uptight, and sterile. There was a sense that it was used recently by someone else; a few things not perfectly in place, but he assumed that it was due to the presence of Anisa. The details aside, this place was serviceable for working on high-end electronics, possibly as an operating theatre.

"What was that, Captain?" asked Harper. "Make myself at home? Only because you insist, sir." He slid fluidly behind the desk which dominated the room, settling himself into the very stately chair that once served as resting place for the asses of persons infinitely more loyal to the cause than himself. "You know, chair," he said aloud again, obviously addressing the piece of furniture beneath himself, "I damn near got the official nod to sit in one of you, a while back. That, or acquire extended secondary education. Think I made the right choice? Hmm? Really? Well, fuck you, chair. You and your desk buddy, both. I'm a lot more clever than you. Oh yeah, and I'm definitely going through those drawers while I'm running a diagnostic, you can both eat it." He giggled a little while he connected his black box terminal to the Captain's personal one. "Eat it."

Yes, he was running a cursory diagnostic before delving any further. It was the smart move. And yes, true to his word to the ...chair... he was definitely looting the office for anything it might hold, be it contraband, personal effects, hardcopy backups, password clues, etc. Fast and efficient. He was a man of his word, after all.

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Upon hearing that the Preacher was indeed in the mood for what they referred to on Farraday as "a bit of sport", Foy seemed pleased with the situation. He snapped his fingers in the air, using the gesture to draw attention to himself as he pointed at both Atticus and Jahosafat simultaneously, offering, "Excellent notion, yes, particularly excellent notion. This evening appears to be coagulating into quite the social affair! Now, so far as I can gather from our impromptu planning, we've three out of four speaking up in the positive, leaving but one, that particular singularity being our new Captain." he paused for a second, "Well, not quite my Captain yet; I've not committed to terms as of this, our ongoing conversation. I remain hopeful, however. It has been ages since I've traded fire nor fisticuffs alongside my truest comrade." He tipped his cap ever so slightly in the direction of Jahosafat to emphasize the object of his last descriptor.

Foy was in good spirits. His mood was elevated enough that he volunteered something slightly out of character. "Oh, Miss Pender? No no, my apologies madame, Doctor Pender. Or shall I call you Dorothy? I am unsure as to whether our present set of social circumstances appropriately colors our means of address more toward the formal, the professional, or the personal. Certainly, we aren't quite friends yet; not at this juncture. Nor are we colleagues, either. Hmm... It is a pip confusing, but nonetheless a digression of my point, that being unmentioned until the following: If you desire the additional assistance of the dolly for purposes of transporting our personals and sundries from Point A (that being our merchant-bound vessel) to Point B (the recently acquired storage holdings), kindly allow me the space of five minutes to acquire the last of my professional cases, and I shall dedicate myself toward the expedient movement and storage of our collective belongings."

It may have seemed like a sliver of altruism came from Foy right then, but the truth lay nearer to the fact that the sooner they put distance between them and the Retribution, the sooner they could move along to the frivolity. "I say, perhaps after the more laborious of our efforts have concluded and our business draws to its cessation, I should hazard a look into town; get a feel for local prices and attempt to secure suitable lodging, so much as the civilized parts around these docks may provide." Foy began back out of the Cargo Bay, eager to grab the last of his things and get started.

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Luck be a lady tonight, luck be a lady tonight. Um, excuse me. Song stuck in my head. Anywho.... Over by the Lady Luck as the boys listen in, one of them of obviously not paying attention to what is said. His eyes are elsewhere. A quick glance will tell anyone around him that he is eying a couple it looks like. The man being a good several inches shorter than Aiden and much more geektastically pasty and weak looking. The woman is attractive and while shorter than the men around, stands at an average height and build.

"Ten says I can scare off that fidgeting pasty within five minutes," the boy says diverting the attention of the rest of the group as he motioned over to the two. The boy himself is no boy but probably in his mid twenties, dressed like a second-hand store clerk. Suit and vest, little bowler cap, but it is all well worn and obviously aged and been through more than just general wear. His blue eyes flash as he pulled the toothpick from his teeth. "What say you mates?"

"I'll take that bet," one says.

"You're out of yer bloody mind, I lay twenty down saying she's his body guard," another laughs and the rest break out chuckling.

Over on the ship, things are not as entertaining. Atticus seems rather excited about getting things done and slips his jacket off, tossing it onto a crate. It lands there with a plop, its sleeve falling over the backside of the crate and nearly hitting the new comer in the head. It just misses. Rolling up his sleeves he grins from ear to ear. "Well, let's get our labors underway! Even God took a day of rest!" he said excitedly as he started to get a move on.

"I say, good call good man! Let us finish this so we can get our frivolity on! I do hope you will be joining us Miss Dorothy, we aren't in Kansas anymore and I dare say you would use a jaunt down the yellow brick road," he laughed as he followed suit with Atticus and got to work. More than happy to get off the ship and have some fun that evening. He could use a break before his mind went through a meltdown.

Anisa wandered out of engine room of the ship and out into the cargo hold with a smirk on her lips. The buyer looked upset but he shoved a bag towards her. "Fine, we have a deal. You have 3 hours to get off," he said before storming off. Anisa's smirk only grew as he left before turning around to see the rest, or at least most of the rest of the crew, getting to work.

"You heard the man, count down has begun. Three hours and we are off this boat. Dorothy, make sure everything is cleared out before that time. I am going to secure lodging for the crew this evening and meet with the seller I spoke with this morning. Any luck and we will have a new home shortly," she said before she headed towards her quarters to make one last sweep of them. She wanted to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. She was sure she hadn't but she had spent more time in Quinn's office cleaning it out than her own room.

Over in Quinn's office, the scan didn't show anything at this time and it seemed Anisa had taken it on herself to take anything that was personal effects or hard files already out of the office the night before. The place seemed to be rather thoroughly cleaned. All except a single picture that was wedge in the back corner of a secondary drawer in the desk. A picture of Camilla and Quinn at an Alliance party. Quinn seemed much younger in the image and far less "monstrous."

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Dorothy glanced up as Foy called out her name, feeling a bit surprised. From the conversation going on in the Cargo Bay, the others had effectively made plans to go out that evening, leaving Dorothy entirely out of it. It was going to be Foy, Jahosafat, Atticus, and Anisa. Had the evening's plans not involved (as far as she could tell) consuming copious amounts of alcohol, she perhaps would have been a bit hurt. But more than anything else, it just felt a bit awkward.

At the end of Foy's word vomit, Dorothy chuckled slightly. "Dorothy'll do just fine," she replied. Miss Pender was bound to get confusing on this ship, as if having sisters named Dorothy and Daphne wasn't confusing enough already. And of course, Miss Pender itself wasn't correct to begin with--she was a doctor, after all. "And I'll take all the help I can get." She wasn't certain as to whether or not the man could be trusted, but he seemed more eccentric to her than anything else. And with Atticus there to assist as well, it seemed safe enough.

Jahosafat's invitation took Dorothy by surprise. She glanced over at Atticus for a moment, before returning her gaze to the other doctor. She wasn't quite sure how to respond as well. She disliked drunks but she was fond of cards. The crew of the Vengeance knew of Dorothy and Daphne's background, of the abusive barkeep they had for a father. "I'll think on it," Dorothy finally replied.

"Got it, Captain." Dorothy replied to Anisa's instructions. Three hours. With four people moving items back and forth, it should be enough time. Dorothy then rolled up her sleeves and got to work as well, joining in with Atticus and Jahosafat.

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Fitz nodded, understanding that things were likely a bit hectic from what Daphne had told him. And here he was, of course, holding her up while she likely had more important things to do. Daphne was too kind to say otherwise, Fitz decided, and he forced a smile at her. "I-it was lovely meeting you, Daphne," Fitz began, a slight blush to his cheeks. "I'll l-let you get back to it, then." She had things to do and places to be, and to be honest, so did he. The chances that he'd bump into a random stranger and get his travel arrangements all sorted were slim.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to return to the small room he had rented and fiddle with some of his possessions, withdrawing back into something similar to the safe bubble of academia. But he hadn't left the University just to build a contraption in a rented room. No, Fitz wanted to put some miles on his soul, to go out and see the universe. He waved an awkward farewell to Daphne, nearly bumping into her again as he went back on his way, heading deeper into town, rather than in her direction towards the docks.

He did need to head to the docks at some point, but he didn't want to distract Daphne and be a bother to her. Perhaps in an hour, he'd turn around and head out to look for people taking on passengers or in need of an engineer, once he could be relatively certain that Daphne was back at her ship. The last thing he wanted to do was inconvenience anyone at all.

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Aiden raised a hand to pause the proceeding ramblings of the rag-tag group while he eyed the couple. Slowly breathing out a long puff of smoke as he watched how they moved, how they looked at each other, how far they would wonder from one another, where they looked, what they looked at.
Mannerism, attire, body language. Aiden drank it all in as naturally as one breathes air.
A bet was no fun unless he was part of it.
It was no challenge if he left it all to luck.

"Right'o, you probably would scare him off, her too." He says with a teasing chuckle as he turns back to the group.
Counting through the scraps of his remaining cash, speaking from the corner of his mouth that didn't hold the cigaret Aiden humours the man as he thinks over his money.
"Say you get her alone. Then what?"
Aiden listens to the response.

"Forget the tenner guys, think you can match all this?" he asks holding out his hands cupping his cash.
"Ya each name a crazy yet fair challenge and if I meet just one of em, this gets doubled." He looks up to the strangers as he puffs his cigaret without the aid of his hands.
"Well guys? Unless you'd rather watch train wreck 'ere make a fool of himself.

Aiden was now going in all or nothing. If he was a greedy man he would have taken that cash to a card table and easily doubled it in a few short hours. But Aiden liked a challenge and the thrill of a new gamble. Here it was all on the line. It seemed it would be completely unpredictable and random, but nothing that people ever say or do is truly at random.

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Mei inched quietly, listening to every word the crew spoke. It seemed they would not be staying on this ship. That was all well and good, though she hoped to gain at least some information. If they were moving, she imagined the logs would be transferred over to the new ship, or at least kept somewhere secure for upload later. That is, if they intended to keep it. This may be a lost cause.

Yet, something urged her to pursue this line. She couldn't quite place it. Was it a feeling of remembering something? Either way, she brushed it off. She wasn't going to leave empty handed. It seemed that some would be going to the Lucky Lady later. She didn't want to overstay her welcome and get caught. As soon as she saw a moment, she quickly hightailed it out of the ship on to the docks.

She looked around at the crowd. As far as she saw it, no one paid her any mind. She checked the time. She had a few moments, it seemed before the crew would make their way over to the Lucky Lady. Just enough time to get ready. If she wanted things to go her way, she would have to play the part.

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"Alright then Fitz, maybe I'll see you later," she said as she turned away from him and headed back towards the docks. She liked the engineer, so maybe she'll see him later when the ship was actually taking on passengers or what not. Daphne really did need to head back to the ship, and this visit to town had taken a lot longer than she had anticipated, so she was probably going to be in some serious trouble when she got back. She knew that she needed to help move things over to the new ship, since odds were in favor of them having a new ship by now.

Daphne kept walking, working to make sure that she was retracing her path through the town and back to the docks. She worked to keep out of the way of the other people, and hoped that she wouldn't run into anyone else, not that she had minded her conversation with Fitz at all. He was an interesting person, though she thought that he really needed to get better social skills, especially if he was wandering around looking for passage on a ship. Though she couldn't very well worry about him now, her main concern was getting back to the ship right then, and she continued heading off back towards the docks.

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"Hmm..."

It was the sound of a somewhat puzzled man. His diagnostic aside, there appeared to be absolutely nothing unusual about the Captain's personal terminal. No hidden files, no points of blackmail material, nothing on the keyword search or coded message detection, no ciphers or the like. It looked very much like the man was pursuing a straight and narrow path of Alliance service, period, end story. At least, that's what his terminal's files had to say on the matter. To make matters worse, the office itself looked to have been given a once-over already.

Harper couldn't learn anything more than what he got from the Bridge. This was a waste of time. At least he was able to get a little more time in with a Cortex Terminal, re-honing his skills against modern software. Not a lot had changed since his last wrestling match against a system, though there were some improvements in the details, from what he could see. Maybe he would get some practice in with the next ship they acquired.

Well, plans for the near future. The diagnostic was finished, giving the appearance of a standard system. He had access to the Captain's private terminal, which pretty much meant a firm grasp on the short and curlies on the ship's operating systems, routines, archives, protocols, whole nine. And what he wanted to do? Reset back to factory standard. No history, no personnel, no records, nothing. An empty slate, waiting for a new buyer to take over and do with what they needed, customizing the programming to suit their needs. Of course, if the Alliance happened to locate their former Black Ship, he wanted to make damn sure that the asshats in possession of it at the time took the heat for its capture, and everyone attached to the vessel (himself especially) was pleasantly forgotten about. "Okay, Retribution... prepare to be reincarnated. You've served your Alliance well, but now it's time to shuffle along to more clandestine service under the employ of some possibly less ethical entity." He giggled a little, thought occurring to him, "Heh, just like me..."

He keyed up a full formatting of all systems, hesitating over the command enter key for just a second before letting his finger fall. "Maybe we'll meet up in a few years, Retribution. Different name, bigger history for us both. I'd appreciate that. You might have given me my freedom, whether you know it or not. Ah, damned sentiment. Wouldn't mind being your Captain; you're a hell of a vessel. Alliance built you well." He thought for a moment, "...except for that little issue with the lavatory. Might want to get that looked at by your next Engineer..."

Sighing, Harper watched as the system sped through its files, removing or reserving as needed. It might take a little bit to really get going. If some stop or block was in play, his only alternative would be to completely remove the memory manually from the boards and replace the storage, then institute a whole new copy of the operating system. That would take some time, and the former Lieutenant doubted that he had the kind of time necessary for a full system replace. No matter. If he couldn't, after the ship exchanged hands, he'd send an anonymous, sourceless comm burst to the nearest Alliance interceptor, bounced off of so many relays and signal reinforcing points as to render it next to impossible to determine the exact system from which it was sent in the form of a coded S.O.S., informing them of the Reaver attack and subsequent hijacking of the ship by brigands from Whitefall after the crew had been picked over. Hell, he might just do that anyway (pending his new Captain's approval).

None of it should come back to him, I mean, Harper wasn't rated for things like Technological Interface Programming or Core System Alteration, let alone possess the technical wherewithal to service the physical aspects of the ship or her engines. Oh no. Harper was a Pilot and an Officer. He couldn't hack a ship. Besides, he was very likely dead, used as sport and later as food by Reavers on Whitefall, following an underestimation of enemy numbers. At least, that's what the comm burst would say, the dying message of one or another of the crew. The Doctor, perhaps, or maybe the Captain himself.

Whatever happened next, he had a few minutes in the meantime while lines of code compiled and replaced. Harper found himself staring at a little something he found, wedged in the back of a drawer in the Captain's Desk. It was a picture of a younger version of himself; a young officer at an Alliance gathering, with a woman on his arm in similar Officers' attire. If memory served, that woman was one of the members of Anisa's crew, the very lady whose sidearm he now carried.

"Hmm..."

He was still puzzled. Why would that have been stuck all the way back in his desk drawer, out of sight and out of mind? If he didn't want the damned thing, he could easily have gotten rid of it. Or kept it packed away. This guy wanted it close, yet concealed. Harper began to study the picture; its framing and size, whether it was an analog or holo printing, if it could be removed from any casing it may be in. Really in-depth viewing, as if he could find some manner of password written inside of it or a bit of emergancy scrip. It just seemed the place one would hide something.

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"Three hours, you say? How very final. I assume that negotiations went smoothly and to the positive, yes?" He didn't quite anyone an opportunity to answer, as enamored with the sound of his own voice as he was. "Brilliant! I shall collect the last of my resplendent belongings and assist..." He waved his hand in the general direction of the crew members behind him, "...those fine persons in relocating our collective gear to the locale of your illustrious choosing, madame."

Foy continued pushing the dolly up and out of the cargo bay, following behind Anisa for a while before their paths diverged. He did offer parting words of, "You may wish to speak to your Doctor friend concerning some plans for afterwards. Looks to be quite the solid social affair, indeed! And I would so relish speaking with you in less formal conditions, opportunity presenting. Finalize our business, and what have you. First round falls squarely upon Yours Truly, of course." As they began to move to different parts of the ship, Foy called out behind him, "And I do hope you are a proficient dancer, madame. I do so adore a good cotillion, or even more rustic rug cutting, and I shall save a spot on my card just for you."

His last case wasn't quite as large as one might absolutely need a grav dolly to move, but repeated trips make for longer and more encumbering ones. Foy had a respectable amount of personal gear, mainly wardrobe, but he also had a three cases' worth of professional working gear, designed to give the best damned shave, style, or cut on-the-go to prince and pauper alike. Though if Foy could help it, princes mainly. Better class of people. Good tippers, mostly. Plus, his extraordinary skill gave him the perfect cover to conceal his more clandestine activities, in addition to aiding in turning a profit when tracking and killing was slow, while opening up the family business to potential product contracts. All around, it was good business.

The last case loaded up saw him lightly sauntering back to Cargo; those inside capable of hearing the sharp tunes of Foy, whistling a song to himself. As he rounded the doorway back in, the whistling slipped to words as he finished the line he was on, before stopping and grinning at those present.



Foy gestured to the personal belongings of the crew and put aside his more garrulous nature, merely asking the simple, two word inquiry of, "Shall we?"

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Things were going as well as could be expected for the crew when it came to getting the ship ready for final departure. Anisa finished up in her quarters before making a final sweep of meeting room. She needed to head out soon to meet with the Seller. Atticus kept helping move things and Jahosafat finally excused himself so he could go and take care of starting to clean the ship in his own personal matter. Each room he went through he was locking down once it was complete and marking it as ~decontaminated; stay out~ as a marker for people to stay out of it from that point on.

The guys over at Lady Luck glanced over towards Aiden and chuckled. "You're on!" one of them said laughing.

The place was busy but people weren't standing around really. They were moving in and out as quickly as they could. Those going in wanted to get to the fun as quickly as they could, those leaving were trying to hide their shame for the most part it liked. Other shops and stalls were further down the street. Whoever ran the place wanted to keep traffic moving as much as possible in front of the place instead of coming to a stand still.

Another lad shook his head. "Well that blows, seems like she is leaving. Shall we change the bet?" he suggested since the girl had been the target, even if her companion was the one they were to scare off. Rubbing his chin he smirked to himself. "How about this, first one to get either of their ID's get the pot? Do we have a wager boys?" he said as he looked around at each of them. "We are at over 100 on the line right now, so one of us walks away with a nice fat stack tonight or we all go home with just the little we laid down."

"I'm in," one said.

"Me too!" another chimed in. Seemed these boys were more about the fact they had something to do than making money really. Idle hands and all that.

Anisa made her way back to the cargo and glanced around, letting Dorothy know that she was heading out now and she would be back before their time was up. She left orders to finish up and make sure no one else left the ship until she returned. She didn't want to have to hunt down people once the ship was vacated to let them know where to go next.

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"Yes, if you could move your belongings to the holding dock," Dorothy instructed Foy as the man came into the cargo bay. She and Atticus were moving things to the little holding bay on the docks, which fortunately wasn't too far away. At Anisa's orders, Dorothy nodded, hoping that no one would try to pull the same stunt as Daphne. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to come up with any more punishments that were fitting and fair. It'd definitely be a topic she'd need to sit down with a notebook and pen to brainstorm later on.

In the midst of the routine she and Atticus had fallen into, Dorothy frowned for a moment. She had been keeping an eye on those coming to the docks, in hopes that Daphne would return quickly and could be dealt with. Dorothy noticed a pretty woman with brown hair and Chinese features towards the back of a crowd--a woman that Dorothy hadn't seen coming onto the docks a few moments ago. It took her a moment to consider the possible points of entry for the woman, before coming to one conclusion: she had come from the Retribution.

Wei shian dohn woo! Dorothy thought to herself, before drawing her sidearm with what could only be considered flair. A split second later, Dorothy had aimed at the woman's knees (perhaps unconsciously recalling Atticus' assertion that God is quiet on the subject of kneecaps) and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit and Dorothy smiled a bit, especially since none of the bystanders were hurt. They were, understandably, a bit riled up, a few of them drawing their own pieces after what seemed to be a random shooting. Others were ducking and cowering.

"The jien huo came from our ship," Dorothy offered as explanation to Atticus just seconds after she had fired her gun. She doubted the stranger would be going far, what with the bullet to the knee. Dorothy hadn't been attempting to kill her. No, her goal had been to wound and incapacitate.

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Completely oblivious to the activities going on in Lady Luck's, Fitz turned to watch Daphne for a moment as she headed off. But given that it wasn't exactly the best place for people to stop in the midst of traffic, he only caught a glimpse of her before he had to get moving again, or risk being trampled. There were more shops and stalls to see and Fitz, as timid and nervous as he was, committed himself to checking them out.

He hadn't left the University just to come and stand in the middle of a busy street. Standing and watching life go by still wasn't the same as actually experiencing it. It was the difference between reading about machines and new technology and actually getting your hands dirty and playing with it. Taking a deep breath, Fitz fiddled with the little bracelet on his hand before walking down the street further into town, looking to see if anything caught his eye as interesting. He wanted to break out of his comfort zone, as much as it frightened him to do so.

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Aiden chuckled at the prospect. "Sure thing, count me in." he says while sucking on his cigarette. "Which ever way you choose to lose your money works for me."
This should be entertaining at the least. he thought to himself as he sat back to watch the others get to work. A confident, calm, taunting and teasing smile glued to his face.

He expected most would go straight for theft using sleight of hand and misdirection. While Aiden had quick hands and nimble fingers that sort of thing was just not part of his skill set.
Or perhaps someone would try bargain with up front honesty, sharing a cut of the profits. But if visual trustworthiness could be quantified into calculable quantity, he strongly doubted any of those men would score high. An ID was a dangerous thing to just give up.

What ever method they chose, numbers would be their downfall. Too many moving too quick not working together could only hinder one another. After the first fail the target would be more alert. Aiden decided to sit back a watch. Biding his time and letting his headache subside. He tried to watch where the woman was off too. Keeping his options open. "I'll give you all a fair head start while I finish this." he says lifting his smoke from his mouth. He was in no rush, if someone else won it good for them, maybe Aiden could learn a thing or two.

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As Mei pondered the next step, a shot rang out. Training kicked in, but it was dashed quickly when the shot hit her knee. She let out a curse as it hit, sending her kneeling to the ground. The shot wasn't dead on. Panic started in the docks as others drew their own weapons, screams echoing, and others running for cover. She scanned around and saw where the shot came from.

It came from the ship.

"Yu Bun Duh, she thought. She chastised herself for being seen, even if it was for a single bit. She prided herself on her remaining quiet, but she was obviously seen if someone shot at her. No, she wouldn't go down without a fight. She didn't want to kill anyone if they didn't deserve it. Instead, she got up and began making her way away from the ship. She used the crowd to her advantage as she made her way to cover behind a wall. She took out her own gun and waited.

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Daphne kept walking, working her way back through town back to the docks. She was hurrying along now, hoping to not get stopped by anyone or anything else. It still bothered her slightly that her run in with Fitz had taken as long as it did, but she didn't mind to horribly. She met someone knew, someone who wasn't the same boring people as those who were on the ship. The other crew members didn't bug her to horribly, but sometimes she just needed the chance to meet knew people, though she didn't know what her sister would say to being called boring.

The sounds of the town kept drawing her attention to them, and it slowed down her progress. She worked to keep focus on getting back to the ship, causing a lot of effort on her part. There were still a bunch of interesting things for her to see, and being stuck on a ship, or on a broken ship, hadn't helped that. Daphne kept rushing along, ever moving closer to the docks as she progressed, wanting to get back as soon as possible. She wasn't too far away now, at least she hoped she wasn't anyway.

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Harper's intense scrutiny of the picture to the exclusion of all else bore no immediate fruit, with the exception of drawing his attention away from his terminal, which was giving a notification. Setting the picture down in front of him, the enigmatic pilot shifted a portion of his thoughts away from the image and toward the systems to his immediate fore. The reformatting had paused momentarily, due to the appearance of protected files. Harper established a temporary archive and inspected the more troublesome files there, insulated away from the rest of his system.

Sadly, it was no juicy tidbit of sellable information, nor was it something instrumental in the operation of the Alliance Industrial War Machine Complex. No, merely the coded identification of Alliance crew members already attached to the ship. Nothing that he hadn't already run across and gotten rid of, the remaining lines of code served as an otherwise inaccessible piece of ghost data that needed to be burned out before the full reformatting could take place.

A few keystrokes later, it and the temporary archive it contained were just a memory, and the process continued unabated. With this problem resolved, Harper turned his attention back to the picture he had discovered earlier, attempting valiantly to ponder the existential mysteries therein.

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The most dapper of gentlemen (with painfully few exceptions in this the entirety of this 'Verse) gave a smile and a nod to Dorothy and set another large case of his belongings onto the dolly. "Positively, madame. You have but to lead the way."

Foy turned his dolly with industrious, almost chipper demeanor, and made his way out into the air of the Newhope docks. He breathed deeply of the air, more naturally occurring than the recycled atmosphere of the Retribution, and let out a huge, satisfied sigh. "Ah, the mingling of the moneyed and the squalorous; clean woody cologne and the grime of labors coming together with the scents of growing vegetation and hydrogen exhaust. Opportunity! This is truly the smell of opportunity..." he wrinkled his nose suddenly, "And apparently fish. I say, I believe someone's frying haddock nearby. Why on earth would - "

His poignant monologue on the proper consumption of haddock in the open air was halted very abruptly by a shot ringing out very nearby, this from Dorothy. While his speech stopped, a smile grew on his face. The ever-ready Foy Coiffeur noted the lady's target and drew his own weapons, a matched set of contemporary Colt six-guns. Using his cases as partial cover, Foy cheerfully congratulated the crew's new Second, "Well done, Doctor! Wearing those ovaries on the outside, are we? Bravo." He tipped up his bowler with the barrel of his sidearm, and from cover, risked a little sardonic communication across the lines.

"Madame?" he called out, "Madame... You have the appearance of a woman suffering from a severe lack of options. I should say an explanation is in order." He cocked the hammers on his revolvers, the tiniest surge of adrenaline hit his bloodstream, hinting at the possibility of real excitement to come. "Or not! Makes little difference personally; it has been a slow day otherwise."

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Jahosafat rubbed the back of his neck slightly as he moved from room to room on the ship, decontaminating each one and blocking them off as he was finished. Making his way to the captains office finally he opened the door and rose a brow as he spotted Harper sitting there. "Well I do declare, I wasn't expecting to run into you here. Do you need me to leave or am I good to start cleaning up here and closing off this room?" he asked as he stepped into the room and set his supplies down on the desk. Taking a glance at the picture Harper had he smiled slightly, if not sadly.

"Fine looking couple that there. Camilla had a copy of that picture," he said with a sigh. The picture was just a general snap shop, nothing special about the frame from the looks of it, other than a hole in the bottom that looked like you inserted something into it. Many frames of the day had the same little notch, a way to pop open the glass to remove and change out the picture, yet this notch was slightly different. "Camilla told me once that was the night Quinn proposed to her, seemed neither of them ever got passed that evening," he said as he leaned against the desk.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the preacher spouted off as the shot was fired and Dorothy informed them in quick words what was going on. The docks was now in chaos, at least a little more than it had been. Some people actually didn't even seem to notice what was going on or if they did they didn't care. Others though, travelers not used to gun fire were running away from the docks and back into the town as quickly as they could manage. It was enough of a disturbance though to make words hard to hear more than a few feet away and too hard to fire clear shots from the crews current vantage point, granted the woman who had been on the ship was now no where in sight. It couldn't be seen which way she went and even though there was blood on the ground with so many people running around there was no clear path to where she had gone. People stepping in the blood and rushing this way and that made it seem like she went off in multiple directions at once.

The boys over at the Lady Luck all nodded and went on their way. People mulling about and rushing through the city made it easy for each of them to work their way into the crowds nonchalantly. Half of the boys went in the direction the woman went off in, the others went off after the guy. They all agreed to meet back outside of the Lady Luck when the deed was done. If no one got an ID they were to meet back at dusk anyways to compare notes. (or tall tales, which ever was more fun.)

The streets a block or two away from the Lady Luck were lined with vendors selling anything from food to clothing, to knickknacks, to stolen goods and arms. Sure there was some legitimate arms dealers but who the hell wanted something traceable these days? Either way, people kept moving about and about four blocks south of the Lady Luck things were getting a bit more hectic, seemed there was sudden crowd of various people rushing away from the docks and back into the town proper. It was making things more hectic and harder to push through right then.

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Dorothy held her tongue for a moment, looking at Foy with exasperation for a bit over his comments about her ovaries. It may have been intended as a compliment, but Dorothy found nothing kind about it. And had there been more time, perhaps Dorothy would've made her opinion clear to Foy, but there were more pressing matters at hand. The docks had descended into a bit of a frenzy, with the woman she shot nowhere to be seen. She huffed slightly, regretting not aiming her shot higher.

"Captain ain't gonna like this," Dorothy said, her voice tense. "Foy, Atticus, we're going to apprehend the perp. Don't care if you gotta put a bullet in her throat to get it done." She had been merciful earlier when she only shot the woman in the knee. But if this was the way things were going to be, then fine. She had to take care of this situation one way or another.

The smattering of blood on the ground wasn't helpful for giving any indication of where the woman went to, unless she somehow split herself into five and ran off in every direction. There was a good chance that anyone who snuck onto an Alliance ship and then left would be armed as well. Biting her lip slightly, Dorothy scanned the area where she had seen the woman last for anything that would provide decent cover.

"Foy, you're a tracker. Where do you think jien huo went?" Being Anisa's second, Dorothy knew the relative positions of the former Alliance crew who remained, despite not having spent much time with Foy at all. But still, his insight was valuable to Dorothy. She didn't have much experience in this general area.

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For such an intelligent and gifted individual when it came to machines and engines, Fitz was absolutely clueless that he was being followed. It didn't even cross his mind that during his conversation with Daphne, someone might have identified him as an easy mark. To him, pick-pocketers were the real danger and threat, one that could be guarded against by simply keeping a firm hand on his bag. It was the textbook example of book smarts, rather than street smarts. It was a small miracle in itself that he had made it all the way to Newhope without being robbed or attacked so far.

He was like a little kid as he looked at the various venders, enchanted by the wares they sold. The arms dealers didn't pose too much interest to him, but he adored to look at the little knickknacks that were for sale. He didn't even pay attention to whether the things had been stolen from previous owners, as he was too focused on soaking up everything that Newhope had to offer. Fitz continued to head north, further and further away from the crowd of people coming from the docks, entirely oblivious to the events happening down there.

Eventually, Fitz beamed suddenly and hurried down the road, looking at the various venders with purpose. He had a great love of board games and figured they could be a good investment, especially when it came to attempting to ease himself into talking normally with other people. It would be his own version of an ice breaker, once that helped to calm his anxiety as much as it enflamed it. "B-board games...Board games..." Fitz muttered to himself as he searched the stalls, tapping his fingers against the strap of his bag. His IdentCard was stored away in one of the inner pockets.

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She had very little options at this moment. However, since no one was coming after her currently or making demands, it seemed as if they didn't know where she was. She could definitely use the chaos caused by the gunshot to her advantage. She had to get her knee patched up. She wasn't a doctor, but she knew if she went to go see one that they would look there first. That is if they wanted to find her. She hadn't done anything wrong, really.

She looked around her and saw a manhole cover. It was an option, albeit a less glamorous one, but beggars couldn't be choosers at this point. She made her way over and pried the manhole cover off. It took a bit of effort, but eventually, it came off and she moved it to the side with enough room for her to squeeze through and go down.

Once she made it down, she had two options. She wanted to go back into town as opposed to staying in the docks, so she turned right and started heading down that path.

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Aiden knew how to read a crowd, and as he watched his new friends weaving through it he read the confusion and concern that was driving people away from a nearby area. As thrilling as the current game was curiosity got the better of him. He watched the targets for as long as he could but the majority of his attention was focused on weaving through the sea of people flowing against him and finding the source of commotion.

Coincidently it seemed the woman was going the same way. Aiden didn't follow her but instead decided to shadow the group shadowing her. Even though he had put up every last cent of his money on this challenge, he still paused along the way long enough to purchase some skewered fried street food. Using it as an excuse to compliment and quickly flirt with the server.

For a short moment he had lost sight of the others. All hope of winning quickly faded into his stomach until he finally caught sight of one of the other competitors. It was back on. Aiden continued to patiently watch and wait.

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Daphne could finally make out the docks not too far off. She was getting closer and closer, working her way over there. The fact that she had been gone a lot longer than she had planned made a big difference though. Truthfully, she knew that she needed to be back a while ago, in order to help with the packing up of the ship, but somethings just couldn't be helped. Who would've known that she would run into someone. There was no way to have prevented that, but she knew that you couldn't change the past, so she just kept rushing through the crowd, which she noticed was starting to get a lot more difficult as she edged closer to the docks.

The crowd was thickening, and she had no idea why. Daphne had to start shoving in order to make any progress towards the docks, and this was adding to her troubles of getting to the docks. The people were running from the docks she noticed as she kept going forward. The crowd was starting to cause a problem, and it was getting on her nerves. There had to be something going down, and Daphne was determined to find out what.