<div style="background-color:#000040; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="background-color:black; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/YSvkqfQ.png" style="float:right; padding:6px;"/><br/>A mental head count was given, as well as an assessment to how everyone seemed to be. She, of course, seemed to be in the best shape the others were well enough. What was important about it would be that she would not have to carry any of their dead weight around. The ex-cop know it all bastard was still missing and she was about to figure out how to organize a search of his ass when he came onto the comms like he was the fucking King of Siam. <br/><br/>“Who the fuck made him Captain?” she grumbled and stormed off toward the cargo bay where she had been previously. With the comms back up and running she could talk to people from there, but the whole point of this trip was what they had stored down there. Whatever it was, she had to make sure it was secure and then they could figure out how to get things back in order. Hell, who knows what was in the crate could be useful and they could <span style="font-style: italic">borrow</span> it until later and then just put it back. Not like they had had not done it before. Most of their transporting career were spent moving shit and then borrowing said shit, just to return it in nearly perfect condition. Sometimes it could not be helped when you flew a piece of crap. Everything looked like shit, which said a lot given how shitty the ship already looked. Panels were off the walls, wires were exposed and she was certain something oozed from the walls now. <br/><br/>Still, with a bit of luck, determination and the strong desire to not do anything that Corentin asked or wanted she made it. The boxes were everywhere and it took her a bit to get to the crate they had been in charge of transporting. Hands on the container her muscles tensed as she prepared to move the heavy thing, only to nearly toss it across the room. It was lighter. Way too damn light. A crowbar grabbed from the wall, she popped the lid and stood to stare in shock and annoyance. <br/><br/>“Well fuck me,” the metal bar clanged to the ground as she strode over to the comms. <br/><br/>“So, besides being dead in space, we have another problem. Our fucking cargo is missing and I know for a fact it was loaded. So, either it got up and walked away or we have an extra passenger on board. I’m ready to believe either because this whole mission smells fishy and it would be our luck that we would have this kind of an issue to deal with.”</div></div>