"Retire? At my age? Now I doubt any o'that will happen. Still, Glory's not a bad place to be, so I hear." She reached up and drug her fingers through her hair absently as though still debating her decision. "I may as well tag along then." With a whistle Rook was down from the rafter's alighting on her shoulder. "You got you'self a JOAT Captain," she stood, offering her open hand to seal the deal. "Name's Bell, Ma'am, mercenary and Jack-of-all-trades."