<div class="floatleft">(https://static.wixstatic.com/media/991d95_6c974e23fa7e44ecb43d0d28de6e2cfc~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_876,h_701,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01/991d95_6c974e23fa7e44ecb43d0d28de6e2cfc~mv2.webp)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rachel Reade<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Able seaman<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Esperanza / At Sea<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date:</strong>Day 1 | Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Arvad, Marisol, Open<br/><strong>Mentions:</strong>Nancy<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Discovery<br/><hr/>"I don't know who Captain Phillip is, but I assure you, he's not on board this ship.    You're on the<em>Esperanza.</em>Who are you?"   It would be a good thing to know the particulars before the captain was approached with this.   A glance was given Marisol, and then she looked back at the dazed and obviously confused man.    "I think we should have our surgeon look at you, you've taken a nasty blow to the head.   What ship were you bound for?"<br/><br/>Either the man was completely lost or he was up to no good.   Or both.   In any case it would need be sorted out rather quickly.   "I wouldn't suggest moving too swiftly.  You've likely a concussion and the last thing we need is for you to fall down."   Part of her wanted to run to the captain, and part of her wanted to sort it out and then run to the captain.  She let out a breath, blowing her hair out of her eyes in the process.  "What are we to do with you?"   More a rhetorical question than anything.