<div align="center"><strong>-=Vincent Kincaid – Action Hero of his own universe – Helm=-</strong></div><br/>Vincent watched with a grim expression on his face as his console displayed that the shuttle had just been detached and was currently accelerating away from The Gamble.<em>Si is in good hands. More hands that we have left actually. He’ll be just find.</em>With an uneasy sigh, still not entirely convinced he had nothing to worry about, he oriented the dragonfly class ship and begun to break atmo in route to their drop off zone. The notion of them following through with this mission didn’t sit well in his mind, what with how thoroughly the pooch had been screwed already. He couldn’t help but shake the notion that Niska had his hand in the turn of events in one manner or another since only a fool would so openly defy his business dealings. Then again, he supposed that was why they were completing this mission.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>A few minutes later, they were in the black and en route to their objective. Meanwhile, Vincent sat in his seat and did what he always did after a dangerous encounter that still had him shaken. Replay it in his mind adding sound effects and action movie one-liners. “Take a knee.” He said to himself as he envisioned shooting the man in the shin, the bullet impacting with a cheesy flashover of the word ‘Pa-Tow!’ emblazoned over it to cover any gore. “Laying down on the job? Might as well take a nap while you’re at it.” As before, the follow-up shot to finish the wounded man was obstructed by another flash of text saying ‘Sleepy Time!’ Then the scene became more of an epic cinematic chase as Vincent envisioned himself riding a jet-bike at high speeds and under gunfire towards the wounded Si who sat prone in his frilly apron. Why his apron? Ever since Vincent first saw the gentleman in such an outlandish and uncharacteristic garment, that had always been how he viewed him in his mind’s eye.<br/><br/>Such was Vincent’s way of making light of a potentially traumatic situation. It may not be mature; hell, it may not even be entirely appropriate, but by gods it worked. The ‘verse could be a dangerous and scary place at times and his best weapon he had to survive it was his sense of humor. Of course, if he had any idea what was going on below deck, his weapon of choice would have been one that would have been more harmful than simply enticing an exasperated sigh. As it stood, the closed cabin doors and distance between them left the copilot oblivious to the dire straits the love of his life was in.