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


	Throughout all of the drama unfolding around him, Harper's mind went back to something that the highly anxious Engineer asked a few moments ago. Through the stutter, he could clearly discern the question, "Are you a murderer?" It seemed fairly relavent to the situation just then. Were any of these people murderers? He couldn't speak for the newcomers, but he did have enough in the way of conversation with the rest of the crew over the past week to know that several of them fought in the Unification War. He was part of that too, once upon a time. Not as a ground soldier, but as a pilot. Harper was rated on damn near every type of craft that saw action during the war and he used most of them in pursuit of following orders. That would be Alliance orders, and they were rarely for Harper to go on a coffee run. He got his hands dirty from time to time, but really, he was no better or worse than a common soldier in that regard. 

	Some of the others were in the war, too. Browncoats. Considering the imbalance of numbers in that conflict, every one of the Independents likely had blood on their hands, too. But did that make them murderers? Harper didn't think so. Things happen in wartime. People do the worst of actions just to survive. Soldiers were not necessarily the same as murderers. 

	But they weren't William Harper. Technically, neither was he, but that was a debate for another occasion. The others may have killed in the heat of the moment, knifed some guy in a barfight, traded gunfire with opposition, it could be easily justified enough to place the loss of life squarely away from [i]murder[/i]. But Harper was. The guy may have deserved it and the enigmatic pilot had desperate reason to, but he was dead and it wasn't supposed to be Harper's call. Perhaps that is why he acted in the manner that he did, with Anisa standing to one side of him, Daphne on the other, layed out on the floor. 

        He began to chuckle. 

        It grew into a silly, barely restrained laugh. But he wasn't laughing at his Captain, nor the other pilot. No, this was aimed nearer at Fitz. Ordinarily a quietish type unless conversation was necessary, it was very possible that no one in his crew had heard that sound issue from his mouth before. He leaned forward, plunking his mug down on the table with the handle still in his fist, letting himself just enjoy the moment of raucous, situationally inappropriate mirth. There were even tears. Of course, he had no clue whatsoever whether that was joy or if he was truly weeping. It seemed that when he cracked the emotional dam, he wasn't fully in control of what came tumbling out. It gave his gale of guffaws a wiry, slightly crazed note. But he kept on laughing. It was distracting at best. 

        [color=008080]"Oh, oh my dear and shiny Lord, Fitzy..."[/color] he started, finding a brief truce with his outburst, [color=008080]"I just got that "are you a murderer" bit."[/color] He held back another series of giggles, leaning his head forward as his free hand slipped off of the table. He continued in a loud voice [color=008080]"Shénshèng de gǒu shǐ, that was funny. [i]I haven't laughed that hard since I was a little girl[/i]."[/color]

        Harper leaned back in his seat, partially putting himself back into the mix with Daphne and Anisa. Looking up, he could barely see the Captain's extended arm. He could see her face clear enough, and wondered academically if intervention in any way was possible, let alone preferable. He was competent, but no professional gunslinger. He could fight as well as the next soldier, though kicking off a brawl with guns drawn was stupid. Differing tactic would have to be utilized. 

        [color=008080]"Hey Captain? May I have the next dance?"[/color]