Havel's not a man used to getting back-chat in a situation that looks to be this serious, but he decides that Kettle is a problem for another day. Getting too big for his breeches, the little bastard. Either that or he's just too stupid to figure out that a Company Man offing one of Esther's crew could start a frakking<em>war</em>. Maybe it was time for Scribe to do a reading from the old books, the ones with the lessons about responsibility and duty to a family...<br/><br/>Heading over to his bike, Havel checks the rounds in his big double-barreled shotgun, then draws his machete and runs a thumb along the blade. Satisfied that his weapons are ready, he checks over the rest of his gear, finding only some loose threads in his patch; wind damage, have to get Pokey to look at it. Sighing in repressed frustration, he hauls on his heavy armored jacket and walks over to talk with the remaining sentries. Scribe's scribbling something in one of his notebooks, while Morgan and Loper argue over what to play now that they've lost two partners.<br/><br/>"Morgan," he says, starting with the woman. "You're with me. We're headin' to Balls's place, see what we can dig up on the fight, maybe catch this thing before it blows up in our faces." She nods and throws in her hand, face up so everyone can see it looks more like a foot, then stands and starts checking her gear over just as Havel had done. She's of a height with her Captain, all long limbs and lean muscle, but still attractive in a fierce, aggressive way.<br/><br/>Turning to Scribe and Loper, he continues, "You two are on watch, just the two of you. Anyone comes back, tell 'em to sit tight and wait for my word. No townies come around the camp 'til I'm back, warn 'em off or just fuckin' shoot 'em if you have to. We're on lockdown, time bein'." Adding an inflection of concern, just the slightest bit, he adds, "Be careful. Could be bad." Both men, Loper a gangly, lanky youth, Scribe older and more compact, nod and pat weapons set within easy reach.<br/><br/>That said, he gestures for Morgan to follow and heads back to his bike, mounting up and bringing the big beast to life with a sputter, then a roar. Slapping on his half-helmet, he buckles it under his chin and looks towards Morgan's ride, waiting for her to be ready before pulling out and heading towards town and a whole bunch of problems he did not need.<br/><br/>