<div align="center"><strong>-=Vincent Kincaid – Being forced to surrender after already surrendering – The Gamble, Sasha’s Quarters=-</strong></div><br/>The co-pilot was entirely perplexed when his question was met by an even more intense leer than he had received in the med bay.  He had offered what she had asked for, just wanting to know exactly how in-depth his commanding officer wanted the report to be.  Perhaps he had stumbled across some innate blunder typical to all males when dealing with females by offering complete compliance, but not in the right way.  In his mind, Vincent had provided a gesture of deep respect by offering something that he had never before granted to anybody outside of his direct family only to have it callously slapped away.<br/><br/>Still, he offered another gesture of respect by not reacting with his typical pointed sarcasm as Sasha continued to unnecessarily play the role of interrogator.<em>This is what I like to call progress.</em>No matter how good his intentions were, he knew he could only keep a reign on what comes naturally to him in such situations.  All attempts to mask the irritation towards the sense of disrespect he was being given left him more or less with a deadpanned expression.<br/><br/><em>”Kincaid – this is <strong>not</strong> a multiple choice kind of question.”</em><br/><br/><em>Exactly why I chose option A, instead of option a, or option ã.  I knew I should have gone with the proper military option α!</em>The sight of Sasha unfastening her dress in front of him caused him to raise a skeptical brow before looking around the room for hidden cameras where the rest of the crew would be watching as they laughed their asses off at his expense.  When he saw the dagger removed from its hiding place to be set atop the dresser put things into perspective.<em>Really?  You’re going that route?</em>Still in control of himself, Vincent managed to keep that thought well away from his lips even though the sense of contempt towards him was redoubled.  The urge to clam up became more pronounced for the sake of letting Sasha have her ‘fun’ while at the same time catering to his spiteful side.<em>Don’t push things, Vincent.  She’s your friend.  Misguided and misunderstanding of what you offered, but a friend all the same.  Remember.  Progress.</em><br/><br/>So he settled with simply allowing Sasha to continue her demonstration.<br/><br/><em>”This is, however, the part where you come clean or find yourself in a world of hurt.”</em><br/><br/><em>Which I attempted to do, and yet here I am.</em>Still more knives came out, almost demonstratively, while also seemingly trying to throw him off balance by revealing more of her body bit by bit.  Between his newfound relationship with Mae and his steadily rising exasperation, there was no sense of attraction that came with the view.  Only a further sense of disregard being directed towards him.<em>Pro~gress~…</em><br/><br/><em>”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.”</em><br/><br/><em>Which is why I offered to tell you everything in the first place freely and with only a promise of confidentiality for elements that could incriminate my own family.  You’re a badass, I get it.  It just seems a little redundant trying to interrogate somebody for information that was freely offered.</em><br/><br/>As Sasha strode over to him, Vincent turned his head away from her to look directly at the wall.  Surely the entire ship had gotten some measure of insight to his feelings towards Mae; so seeing him so close to the woman of his desire should have been an obvious sign that something had happened between them.  Vincent got the impression that if she knew what tactics Sasha was using, she would certainly find it difficult to inspire obedience and confidence from the pilot.  At either rate, his patience was quickly waning with her treatment of him.<br/><br/><em>“I know you care quite a bit about Mae,”</em>With the mention of her name, Vincent turned his head as if to point at the proximity of Sasha’s foot to his personal space before returning it to the wall.  Perhaps he was being marginally childish, but if she insisted on treating him as such he felt it only right to respond accordingly.  As Sasha continued to press his personal space by planting her foot upon the chair where his legs parted, he could feel the anger and frustration within him approaching its boiling point and it took all of his effort to hold his tongue.<em>”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.”</em><br/><br/>Vincent winced at the reminder about the damage his blunder had caused upon Mae.  There was no wiseass remark to follow that statement, only guilt that helped to disrupt his rising temper even as she removed yet another blade from its hidden sheath.<em>Is this how she rewards an attempt of compliance, by twisting the emotional dagger of self doubt?</em>The co-pilot found himself wishing it had been Griff that confronted him, at least then he wouldn’t feel quite so alienated.  With all the months he had been aboard the ship, it ultimately seemed to mean little to Sasha with the way she treated him like a captive and suspect.  With all those raging emotions, a mild remark managed to slip through the crack though his tone was distant and neutral.  “Are you sure you got them all?  It would be just embarrassing if in itch resulted in you needing stitches.”<br/><br/><em>Oops.  So much for progress.</em><br/><br/>It wasn’t a surprise when she abruptly kicked herself away from the chair.  In fact, Vincent was hopeful that such an action punctuated his lecture and he would finally be able to give her the information he had intended to from the beginning.  The knock on the door furthered that hope.  Whatever it took to get him the hell out of that environment and back with Mae where he could attempt to selvedge what he could of his pride.  Though initial reports suggest things look grim and that there may be no survivors.<br/><br/><em>“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;”</em>At that point, the person in Vincent’s head that kept him in check blinked in shock before whispering to itself ‘Oh shit.’  It then promptly braced itself knowing that of all the buttons that set any Kincaid off, insulting family was the big red on that was labeled<em>Do Not Press.</em>The rest of Sasha’s warning was lost as Vincent’s grip tightened upon the arms of the chair to the point where speckles of red began to blemish the bandages wrapped around his hands.  His gaze was directed at his feet, expression showing the losing battle his rationality was waging against his rage.  It lasted until around the moment  where Sasha finished speaking.<br/><br/>Slowly, Vincent stood upon his feet, his entire body tense as he walked the few paces to the wall he had stared at earlier.  ”<strong>God fucking damn you Sasha!</strong>”  There was a boom of impact as the co-pilot’s fist struck the steel shell enclosing the room.  Between the marginal padding of the gauze around his hand and his own internal devices that limited how much harm he could inflict upon himself, the bones in his fist did not break, but the wounds of the earlier conflict reopened leaving a heavier coating of crimson upon the bandage.  Pain lanced up his arm, but he felt a certain detachment from it for the moment at least.  “I openly offer to tell you everything.  Things that I have only shared with my closest family members.  And you practically spit in my face for it!”  Vincent didn’t dare move closer to Sasha, knowing that either she or Si could respond to his hostility accordingly.<br/><br/>“In the months we’ve known each other, how many times have I addressed any situation without some sort of quip or remark?  The one time I do address you in earnest you proceed to interrogate me?!  Do you distrust me so much that you have to flaunt<em>your weapons</em>in front of me implying that you would be more than willing to use them?  What’s most fucked up is that I now believe you entirely capable of taking a blade to me.  I know you outrank me on this ship, but the way you spoke down to me was more fitting of a guard grilling an uncooperative convict.  The fact I held back my sarcasm throughout that should have been a clear sign of the respect I had for you.”<br/><br/>With a snarl of sheer rage there was another thrum as Vincent’s fist struck steel, thoroughly soaking his bandage in red leaving a light freckling upon the point of impact.  His jaw clenched tightly closed both to hold back the resulting pain that burned in his hand, but to also serve as outlet to his anger.  Whatever it took to keep his physical venting to himself.  “But my family means a whole hell of a lot to me,” he spoke through clenched teeth, his tone low to portray how serious he was about the matter, “and I will<strong>not</strong>sit idle while somebody insults them...  You should know that they are the ones that gave us all the medical supplies we asked for and plenty we didn't without charging us a measly credit.  They gave a small fortune in necessities to people they’ve never even met because they would be watching out for me when my family cannot.  So I think it only reasonable to show them a little gorram respect.”<br/><br/>Getting that off his chest did a great deal to return him to a level where he could regain his composure, which had the added drawback of making the pain in his hand all the more acute.  Surveying the damage he had wrought upon himself he tested his fingers.  Much to his relief they moved under their own power.  Presently its mobility was limited to the forms of claw and mostly claw.  But what he lacked in dexterity, they made up for in making their objection to his action clearly felt.<em>Dani is not going to be happy with me.</em>Cradling it in the crook of his opposing arm, he moved to the chair and proceeded to sit allowing his gaze to fall on his lap.  Dani would have to wait to berate him for a while longer since there was still the matter of giving his report to Sasha.<br/><br/>"They were Wah Ching thugs, an off chute of the Triads.  Nowhere near as powerful or influential as the parent organization, but here on Persephone they behave more like traditional Triads rather than the street gangs they originated from back on Earth-That-Was.  Shortly before being hired on The Gamble, I had done something that incidentally caused the local government to attain the evidence needed to arrest and try a handful of their members with respectable ranks."  A light shiver snaked its way up Vincent's spine as a buried memory tried to claw its way to the surface before being suppressed once more.  "Their leader took it rather personally, which necessitated me leaving Persephone immediately for my well being as well as my family's."<br/><br/>"Since our arrival was unannounced and brief, I was confident that they wouldn't be a problem as long as I maintained a low profile.  Whether their network has expanded in my absence or it had been simple luck on their part, I had made a mistake.  After Mae and I finished our assignment, we headed out to spend our shore leave together.  The Wah Ching aren't big enough to be a dominating power on this planet, but more than enough to be under close observation by local law enforcement.  It was for that reason we stayed among larger crowds that would give them reason to keep their distance.  Their leader wouldn't be content with a simple hit when it comes to me.  He admires and respects Adelei Niska, even though the two are entirely uninvolved as far as I am aware; the guy seems too big-time to deal with a small group like the Wah Ching on any significant level.  One side-effect of this admiration is that they both follow the teaching of that old Chinese dictator.  What was his name?"  Vincent pondered for a moment then nodded his thanks as Si filled in the blank for him.<br/><br/>"Anyways, Mae and I... well... finally realized what I'm sure you all already figured out and decided we'd have more fun spending our evening aboard the ship...  It was on the way back that I fucked up and lowered my guard for that critical moment.  We wandered too close to the warehouses and before I had realized my mistake, Mae had run a few paces ahead of me where a man stepped out from the alley and knocked her unconscious.  As he carried her back into the alley, I gave chase and attempted to radio it in, but didn't get more than a few words in before it took a bat for me.  Long story short, I did what I had to in order to get Mae back.  I made sure to cripple their arms and legs before returning here, so security will likely be heightened once they are found.  To avoid jinxing myself, I'm going to simply state that the Wah Ching are patient and prefer not to have too much attention drawn to them."<br/><br/>Taking in a breath and letting it out slowly, he lifted his head to look at Sasha without meeting her eyes directly.  "So, there you have it.  Is there anything you want me to clarify or am I free to go?"