Cal gave a shrug in response.  She didn't trust the local muscle either but it wasn't her call.  And the client hadn't paid enough to get Kos to do the work.  Licking her lips and admiring the view, the Captain watched her sole male crew member head off.  She idly wondered if he'd taken any of the other women to bed.  She cared only out of concern for what a ship full of women fighting over one man could cause.  Nodding to herself she resolved to try and find a male pilot, one that wasn't sly.<br/><br/>As her muscle set about getting cleaned up, Cal headed down the gangplank to a silver post by the ship.  Logging the Devil's registry and expected duration she frowned at the additional requirements.  The Alliance's hand clear in the matter.  A good fifteen minutes later she was finished and thoroughly irritated.  Perfect time for the portly and sweaty client to wheeze his way to the ship, several other men in tow.<br/><br/>Cursing under her breath, Cal felt for the reassuring weight of the revolver on her hip.  She glanced up into the ship, hoping to see Kos before putting on a smile and waiting for their arrival.  Having dealt with the man before she preferred to have someone at her back she could trust.  The scum was a weasel and had wandering hands.