<div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/SpaceCombatShip.jpg)</div><br/>Several dockworkers flinched as the air was pierced by a screeching noise they'd heard all too many times before.  It was more the source of the noise than the noise itself, for one could hardly work long in a port without having to get used to the metallic cacophony of the daily comings and goings of countless ships and the grating heartbeat of machinery.  It was the woman causing all the commotion that made them wary.  A massive pillar of spiked metal, nearly as tall as a well-built man, scraped loudly against the floor, gouging it shamelessly and sending up the occasional flare of sparks.  One end was gripped tightly in a hand bound in armor with a similar make as the weapon, all sharp angles and cruel designs.  Her entire body was encased in it, and stood out against all the glossy white tech that so many other mercenaries seemed to favour these days.  She looked to have stepped right out of some barbarian horde from a past nearly forgotten by time and history, and held herself appropriately.<br/><br/>Miss Aldritch stared keenly up at the remodeled cargo ship, the sensors in her helmet picking out key bits of information on its model (a Triton 1A series), build, armaments, and weaknesses.  Particularly the weaknesses.  It paid to be aware of the dangers one faced when one decided to join a crew, especially when the ship in question was not built for combat scenarios.  It could surely hold enough treasure to ensure that one stayed fat and full for the rest of one's life, but the mercenary doubted its capabilities were it to be caught off guard by a heavily armed opponent.  She grinned at the thought, and the pistons in her helmet pulled the tooth-filled mouthpiece into a similarly bestial smirk.  It was the sort of challenge Aldritch craved.  There was a good feeling about the ship.  She sincerely hoped its Captain would fail to disappoint her.<br/><br/>She snapped her fingers together and whistled shrilly, causing a nearby team of workers to snap to attention and get to work.  A far smaller vessel was being suspended overhead and stored into a smaller cargo bay in the side of the Triton, a bizarre ship unlike any other.  Aldritch's pride and joy: the<em>Aboleth</em>.  Built by her own two hands from schematics drawn up from dreams and nightmares, it was as versatile as it was fast and dangerous.  It set her apart from other mercs, who seemed barely capable of doing much else besides firing a gun.  Uniqueness was more the art of the bounty hunter, and she thoroughly enjoyed the comparisons.  Even she wasn't entirely sure as to its full capabilities, but it had saved her skin more than once over the years.  Now that she was on yet another crew it would be used to save the skins of others.  If it came to a firefight, they'd need a proper dogfighter.  That's what she was being paid for, and she'd damned well give the Captain her money's worth.<br/><br/>"Oi!" she yelled, caused all three men to jolt and look at her like they'd been addressed by the Devil himself.  "Ye dent 'er even the slightest bit 'n I'll be stretchin' yer hides o'er her hull!  Git 'er in there proper-like, eh?"<br/><br/>They hastily glanced away as the helmet twisted into another crocodile grin.  Another little invention of hers.  Some mercs went for the "Cold and Featureless Mask" look, but Aldritch always preferred expressiveness in everything she did.<br/><br/>Ensuring the care of the<em>Aboleth</em>, she marched on to the boarding ramp, swinging the mace up onto her shoulder and nearly taking off someone's head in the process.  A flash of her card was enough to gain admittance.  The lack of security detail was pitiful, but she supposed that was the reason she'd been hired in the first place.  A discussion with the ship's engineer would be required if proper improvements were to be made.  Hopefully it would be human.  From the looks of it there were more<em>animals</em>on board than people.  At least the Captain was human, by her reckoning.  The last thing she needed was to be working on a zoo headed by another beast.<br/><br/>"Speakin' 'o which," she muttered, moving about the cramped hallways and inspecting every niche on her way towards the Bridge, "Where the fuck is the Captain?  These days they don't even roll out the bloody red carpet fer a gal."<br/><br/>