<div align="center"><strong>-= Simeon Gaorong - preparing for damage control - The Gamble, Sasha's quarters=-</strong></div><br/>Formal response or not, Si wasn't going to wait longer to enter Sasha's cabin after hearing that thump into the wall. The door opened with unceremonious haste. He slowed his pace upon surveying the situation and making note that the only casualties were the wall and, more importantly, Vincent's hand, but it was not an ideal situation even if the pair of them were not yet violent toward one another. Indeed, to be accurate, it was a shit situation. Simeon shut the door behind him and waited patiently through Vincent's brief venting period, sizing up Sasha's visible reaction - if any - to it while the youthful co-pilot let it all out. Once he seemed to have finished, Si spoke up before their First Officer had a chance to provoke Vincent again with whatever she'd done to set him off the first time.<br/><br/>Simeon knew he was not a ranking officer aboard The Gamble. He didn't make a point of his experience when it came to the ship's hierarchy. He didn't condescend toward the younger crew members or make ambitious power plays. When he gave orders they were in combat situations where action took precedence over propriety. In those situations, however, the more field-oriented members of the crew had become acquainted with the ex-admiral's command voice, the presence he had about him when he was in his element: not the hot energy of their First Officer or the determination of their Captain, but a source of discipline and strength drawn from certainty of purpose and from substantial experience. It was in that immutable voice that he said, "Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan. Go hwong-tong. Da jee-ah tzwo sha." The man had no authority to give at least one of the other two people in the room orders aboard her ship, and the other hardly seemed in the mood to take orders at the moment, but Simeon's stern tone provided no slack for argument. It showed no anger, no threat for disobedience; the words were simply there, hard and sure.<br/><br/>Simeon himself took a seat - well, more of a lean, really, resting his hips against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest - to Vincent's right and somewhat ahead of him, placing himself more or less between the co-pilot and the First Officer but not blocking the space between them. Though Vincent was doing all the talking, explaining just what it was that had left such unpleasant results on The Gamble's flight crew, Simeon's focus appeared to be fixed on Sasha's face. His own expression was more or less flat, but he couldn't quite keep traces of disappointment from hiding in the wrinkles around the edges of his eyes. Taking your mood out on an injured man, Sasha? That was extremely poor form for an officer. He wouldn't say it, at least not in front of another member of the crew, but the disapproval lingered all around him.<br/><br/>He was, of course, still paying attention to the information being conveyed. When Vincent faltered, Si filled in the blank for him: "Xiang Yu." Bastard philosophy, that one had. It had its merits, but anyone claiming to follow Xiang Yu's mandate too closely was like as not a monster. Not promising. If it were his conversation he'd respond to Vincent's open ending with a follow-up as to why he hadn't bothered to tell them they might have friends waiting for them planetside, but telling Sasha off in her own cabin was already overstepping his bounds. Better to let her do inquiring, as long as she could do it without causing more self-inflicted injuries on their co-pilot. ... Wait. Was her dress undone?<br/><br/>* * * * *<br/>"Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan. Go hwong-tong. Da jee-ah tzwo sha."<br/>"Oh, this is a happy development. Enough of this nonsense. Everybody sit down."