<div align="center"><strong>~ First Officer Sasha Dearing, on board The Gamble, dealing with <strong>The Little Things</strong> (http://youtu.be/leJAPiaCx2c) ~</strong></div><br/>Although not a cruel woman, when a situation required a strong arm Sasha was able and willing to do whatever was needed, and the First Officer was more than capable of fulfilling the role of disciplinarian for the crew of the Gamble. Truth was, although at first glance the Captain or Simeon might appear to be better candidates for the position, on board the Gamble Griff’s bluster and Si’s gentlemanly restraint often didn’t invoke the same respectful - or was it fearful? - compliance that Sasha’s more overt enforcer persona did. The Gamble’s First Officer took her responsibility to keep the crew safe seriously. Extremely seriously.<br/><br/>One of the precepts Sasha learned early on about the art of negotiation was the power of silence. And although to a casual observer it might not look that way, interrogations are actually a form of negotiation. Albeit the tactics employed during interrogations might be less subtle than during negotiations, and the discrepancy in positions of power might be more extreme, but the basic equation remains the same.<br/><br/>When Sasha mentioned to Vincent her concern about a potential “ongoing problem”, she was referring to the possibility that Badger had unleashed multiple attacks on her crew, or that Ferret was attempting to manipulate their actions; or that their newly acquired job might be compromised, or worse - a trap.  However, as Sasha listened to Vincent’s litany of explanation options she felt the anger simmering just under the surface start to boil once again, and she struggled to keep her temper tightly leashed. Her jaw clenched and her hands reflexively curled into fists at her sides as her blood thrummed with the adrenaline rush of anger, her body taut with the need for action.  Once again the tactic of letting the person she was questioning do most of the talking had served her well, and her scowl deepened menacingly as Vincent poured his words into her silence.<em>There was something else going on here beyond Badger, Ferret, or some random mugging - something specific to Vincent.</em><br/><br/><strong>"Well, there's the short story that will give you the jist, the long story that will give you the details, and the personal story that will give you everything.  I recommend avoiding the latter unless you are feeling particularly patient and understanding with me.  We all have skeletons in our closest after all.  And if you do decide to choose that one I ask that it remains between us, save for the information that directly pertains to the safety of the others."</strong><br/><br/>Sasha’s piercing blue eyes burned into Vincent, her continued heavy silence seemingly to almost coalesce into physical form, a thunderously mute presence crowding the small space with ominous dread. Unluckily for the young co-pilot, Sasha was in just enough of a wicked mood to give in to the temptation to torture him, if only a little bit, as she drew her answers from him.<br/><br/>Pushing up from where she sat on the edge of her bed, Sasha walked over to her dresser next to the chair Vincent sat in, presenting her profile to him.  Slowly she began to disarm while finally speaking to the co-pilot.  “Kincaid - this is<strong>not</strong>a multiple choice kind of question.” Her slender arm reached behind her back, her hand momentarily parting the black lace of her dress and exposing the creamy white of her skin beneath as she pulled a small dagger from its diagonal sheath tucked in the back waistband of her panties and laid it carefully on the dresser.  “This is, however, the part where you come clean or you find yourself in a world of hurt.” Her fingers lovingly wrapped around the hilt of a long blade nestled between her skin and leggings on the outside of her thigh. “If there’s someone who’s got it in for our crew, you better believe I aim to get in the know on that count.” The dagger nestled against her other thigh was removed and added to the collection of razor-edged steel now on display upon her dresser.<br/><br/>Prowling over to once again stand in front of Vincent, Sasha continued to disarm. One long lithe leg gracefully lifted as she placed the toe of her right boot on the chair, the black leather of her shoe pressed against the outside of Vincent’s left leg as she removed a short but wicked looking blade from its sheath in her boot before planting her foot back on the ground. “I know you care quite a bit about Mae,” she flicked her glance to watch his expression at the mention of the beautiful young pilot’s name, “And I have a notion that you’re a smart enough guy to do the math: anyone who threatens you, threatens the crew - and that includes Mae.”<br/><br/>Lifting her left foot, this time she placed the pointed toe of her boot within the small triangle created on the chair seat between Vincent’s legs, and with deliberate slowness she removed her final blade from it’s hidden resting place in her boot. Leaning forward over her bent knee, Sasha rested her forearm on her thigh as she spoke almost casually, her soft voice and beautiful face a dangerous juxtaposition to her dominating position over Vincent as she absently twirled the silver blade between her fingers. Several long heartbeats passed between them, with Sasha close enough to Vincent he would be able to feel the heat radiating from her body, to smell the spicy jasmine scent on her skin.<br/><br/>Abruptly Sasha pushed off from the chair and walked over to the dresser, unceremoniously tossing the two blades among the others as she forced herself to rein it in before she took things any further. Vincent was a crew member of the Gamble. And although when facing off against an actual threat to her crew she would show no mercy, with Vincent she just wanted to toy with him to keep him on edge, make sure he paid close attention to the importance of what she was saying.<br/><br/>Ignoring the sudden knock at her door, Sasha felt relieved - and a little proud - that she had made it this far with Vincent without the need of a buffer, so she continued her reply without acknowledging who she assumed would be a tardy Si standing outside her cabin.<br/><br/>“So, no...I don’t want to hear how your mama didn’t breast feed you long enough or how your daddy never showed you any love; and I<strong>definitely</strong>wouldn’t use the words “patient” or “understanding” to describe my mood at the moment. So skip the ghost stories, Pilot, and just give it to me straight: tell me what I need to know so I can do my job and keep the crew and ship safe.<em><strong>Everything</strong></em>I need to know. Because Vincent...” her gaze intense, Sasha’s low growl bristled with a threatening undercurrent of certain promise. “...If something comes to bite us in the ass and I find out you held something back that could have given me a heads up...well, let’s just say you don’t<strong>ever</strong>want to be on the receiving end of my bad side.”<br/>