Scrap scowled softly, and pulled the brim of her cowboy hat down to cast a shadow over her eyes. Mercenary work never did sit quite right with her, but this newest job felt particularly shady. Too much mystery, and a client with pockets that ran too deep to be decent folk. Still, she knew that for the moment, she didn't have much choice. A pair of boots without the soles worn out were just one of many things she needed to get. Ammunition, repair kits, stimpacks...hell, even her trail rations had been stretched out to last days longer than they should have. Times had been tough. The good samaritan business had been less than profitable lately; and even on its best days, it wasn't known for being a money pit.<br/><br/>The cowgirl took one last glance over the gunner's shoulder, and then rested back in her seat. The brim of her hat was kept firmly over the front of her face to obscure her eyes, only giving her the appearance of someone that wasn't concerned with her surroundings. In truth, she was as attentative as she had ever been. One thing she was sure of; whether or not her client was on the up and up, there was going to be a heap of danger involved. She had taken stock of the people she was going with. The pilot, the gunner, the other mercenary. So far, she hadn't had much of a chance to size her up.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>