Fel took a step back, turning slightly to open a slim passage to the common area in the UA, enough room to step past him, and Aellyn, pointing the barrel of his Power5 at the door to his bunk. [color=F7941D]“Step into my office, Stow.”[/color] He did not elaborate on which quarters were his. He knew very well that if she’d been aboard since Abilene, she knew damn well. It was said conversationally, but make no mistake: it was not a request. It was an order. 

‘Stow’. Cute.

Eryn did her best to look bored and annoyed as she stepped past him, taking her time, holding his gaze the whole way like she was challenging an animal, but inside she was coiling like a cornered viper ready to strike. Nothing good ever came of a one-on-one in a captain’s ‘office’.

For them, at least.

This spacer’s dirtbag meter seemed pretty low, all things considered. Eryn cast a look back at the red-haired woman as she entered his quarters (he’d assumed correctly, she’d mapped the whole place and knew where they all slept), noting she didn’t look particularly mistreated or exploited, which was a good sign. Maybe. Probably?

Eryn had learned the hard way never to trust appearances.

Aellyn locked eyes with the stow. In a brief second, she knew that look. 

Eryn turned back to face the door after just a few steps, standing in the middle of the room, one foot planted slightly behind her, both arms by her side with shoulders back and jaw set. [color=00a99d]“Now what, ‘Cap’?”[/color] It was a point for her that there hadn’t been time yet to run her face through the database, though she bet the droid outside had it on its schedule. [color=00a99d]“Talk more? Throw hands? Play sabacc for my freedom?”[/color]

Aellyn stuck her arm out, holding Fel back as she looked at him. A look that he all too recently gave her for breaking protocols.. [color=AE91B8] “Give her a chance, she might surprise you. Like me…” [/color] She wasn’t sure the last bit was any good advice, having two of her on the ship might mean an early death to the captain. The stow seemed a bit like her. 

It wasn’t much of a room. Certainly not enough room to swing a cat by the tail. Most surfaces were cluttered, some precious items, mostly just bits and pieces of stuff that was in the midst of being taken apart, or put back together. He stood there, let the door shut behind him, arms crossed over his chest, and just let her be uncomfortable for far longer than she would have preferred, silently evaluating.

Finally, he pointed at the bunk without uncrossing his arms. [color=F7941D]“…pull the mattress off my bed.”[/color] Her face and her eyes asked a silent question, since the bed was likewise covered in bits and pieces. He answered it before she had a chance to ask. [color=F7941D]“Let the shit fall on the floor.”[/color]

He waited for her to comply. Only after she had begun, would she understand. His bunk was actually a medscanner, repurposed due to lack of space. [color=F7941D]“In.”[/color] …it might have sounded like an order, but his voice was soft.

Eryn stared at him for a long minute, fighting the urge to attempt to gut him right there and try that slightly loose panel in the corner as an escape route. Make it to the bridge, flush out the crew, take the ship, find herself the new owner.

Except it was never that simple, never that easy, and to be perfectly honest with herself, she wasn’t capable of it right now. Not enough sleep, not enough knowledge, and given how the crew had handled themselves on the ramp with Abilene, she wouldn’t make it even halfway through her shoddy plan.

Seemed her only option was to do the scan. 

Except then he’d probably see everything. Every identifying marker authorities and ‘others’ had plugged into her ‘Wanted’ page on the holo-network to help them track her, every facial recognition flag to trigger– …she was overthinking it. She doubted a spacer would have his stuff hooked up that deeply to the database. Tracking went both ways… Right?

[color=00a99d]“I’m not sick and I don’t have fleas,”[/color] Eryn commented flatly, stepping into the scanner. She laid flat on her back, feeling horribly exposed in more than one way as the lights began and the beams passed over her. 

Honestly? There wasn’t much to see.

The most abnormal thing that flashed in the information update was that she wasn’t entirely human. Her bones, while normal in appearance, were far lighter and exceptionally elastic, capable of enduring great pressure without breaking and compacting in ways the human skeleton could not. It certainly explained how she got around in tighter spaces, and why there were no healing marks from past broken bones. 

Nothing else particularly out of the ordinary. No sign of medical issues save some basic malnutrition and dehydration from her lifestyle. There was a significant amount of scar tissue across her body in what almost looked like patterns, like someone had just taken a paint brush dripping of blaster bolt wounds and burn scars and just flicked it in her general direction. They’d healed remarkably well, and some of the tribal tattoos decorating her shoulders and torso hid a good amount from sight. 

The thick burn scars on her palms were another story. They ran in single raised dark lines across her flesh, ending in melty dots, as if whatever had done the damage had paused and lingered too long. But there was no sign of what had caused it, no residual metals or elements to give clues. They were just…there. And clearly very old.

There was a small metallic wrench tattoo on her right hip, probably would’ve lit up the scanner with impurities. It looked homegrown and amateurly etched, probably using cheap inks and slightly dirty tools.

And, to everyone’s surprise, actually no fleas. 

Fel looked at the scan. Made mental notes. Mostly the scarring. Maybe the tattoo. He was quiet awhile, simply taking in what the scans said, which was more than she was letting on. It told him how hard she had lived. Where she had come from, if not verbally, telling him what planetoid or moon she hailed from, or what vertical level of some stacked megalopolois she was from, it at least spoke to her shared experience. The kind of sabacc hand life had dealt her. He wouldn’t ask about the scars. Not now. Not likely ever. 

[color=F7941D]“You know I ought to vent you for pulling a stunt like that.”[/color] It wasn’t a question. He shut off the medscanner, stepped away, toward the door. Kark it, he was getting soft. And letting her away with it would tell her everything she needed to know about the kind of pushover he was. Not just her, but Aellyn, and Zane too. If he couldn’t maintain order on his ship, if there were no consequences, then what kind of a boat was he running? He remembered a squad leader sending a new pilot to the brig for three days for coming in to dock too fast. Recalled witnessing the public whipping of a stormtrooper for desertion. Remembered being ordered to dish out “discipline in line with Imperial doctrine” in the 181st, and how it turned out when he refused, watching as one of his squad-mates was tortured for what they called ‘gross insubordination.’ He let out a sigh. 

[color=F7941D]“Tell me what you’re doing when you aren’t sneaking aboard other peoples’ ships.”[/color] She looked at him with that same flat, barely-concealed ‘FU’ look. [color=F7941D]“I mean, you aren’t a professional piece of ballast. What are you, when you’re at your best?”[/color] The look continued, punctuated by a blink or two. He sighed again, rolling his eyes slightly. [color=F7941D]“Pilot? Gunfighter? Thief? Slicer? …Smartass?”[/color]

Someone you don’t want in your orbit, she thought with equal parts hard-shell venom and quiet shame.

Eryn hoisted herself out of the scanner and fought the overwhelming urge to go squat in the farthest corner and assume gargoyle status in the shadows, complete with glaring black eyes and threatening lip-curling. She settled for a softly offensive stance as far away from him as she could get without looking like she was trying to be far away, head tipped slightly down and jaw set as she peered up at him with eyes only. 

Part of her wanted to just not answer him at all, see how far she could push the limit of his patience, but she also liked breathing and didn’t trust he wouldn’t change his mind and ‘vent’ her immediately. She took a short breath…

[color=00a99d]“I don’t like people.”[/color] Off to a great start, wow. She blinked, regaining control of her words. [color=00a99d]“I’m not used to them anymore. But I’ll deal with them, if it’s necessary, or if there’s credits involved. Seems you’ve got everything you just asked me about already covered with your crew, though. You pilot. Old Juggernaut is the muscle. Tin Can slices. Red probably covers smartass and I bet all of you do your fair share of stealing with zero problems.”[/color] 

She straightened. Was that pride in her shoulders? Or just an attempt to look squared up and confident when she felt neither? [color=00a99d]“Seeing as I was lurking in your rafters for quite some time before your shit broke and I fell outta the damn vent, and no one caught on? I’m sure you can guess at my skills. On top of stealth, we’ve got ace runner, accomplished climber, handy in tight places. Done work, uh…’helping’ people expire faster. Not clean or neat at it, but I get the job done.”[/color]

Eryn paused, already feeling like she’d just given away far too much.

[color=00a99d]“At the end of the day, though…”[/color] She shrugged a little. [color=00a99d]“I’m just a dirty prison shiv with no direction but revenge, lookin’ after my own ass.”[/color]

He nodded, turning away from her and opening the door. [color=F7941D]“The bunk is yours. You’d be surprised how much more comfortable it is than sleeping on top of a bunch of cable and conduit. Help yourself to food, and the 'fresher. We’re heading for Nar Shaddaa. You can do what you want when we get there. And do me a favor… try not to disappear into the walls. This place is haunted enough.”[/color]