Welcome to Gaia! ::

Part of the civilian section of the ship, there are still places for peace and entertainment. However the majority of this area has been taken over by a powerful group (A sort of mafia what have you, headed by one of the prisoners), taking advantage of the situation. Bartering or money is required to get a decent drink.

Card games and gambling abound as people try to get information and resources off of others.

Across the room of the bar, sitting next to large windows looking out to space, was Gautrine Pendari. She'd dressed as a civilian, disguising herself among the poeple. She needed information and she needed it badly. Her long rust colored hair was still tied up in the tiny braids, and pulled back to fall down her back.

She wanted to scream at the fiasco the raid had become. It was supposed to be a simple in and out, the stone theirs once again. Her jaw clicked slightly as she gritted her teeth. She overlooked the crowd her eyes falling once on the Marshal at the bar, the Marshal who wasn't supposed to be on the ship at all. At least the Marshal would be taken care of in due time, Sam had that under control. As for the people, to kill the lot of them would take the rest of the key cards. It would happen. It might take some time, but Pendari was always good at what she did.

Syx glanced past Jarred, not recognizing him at all, if he was a prisoner she'd deal with him later. It was the more dangerous group that worried her. She took the drink offered by Darlow and sipped it. The liquid tasted slightly like sour apple. She took the rest of it down in a quick shot and placed the glass on the bar.

As the drink settled into her system she took out a deck of playing cards. They looked worn and old, but were obviously once quite fancy. She casually flipped through them with nimble fingers, looking at each card, the process always calmed her when she was thinking. The bodies had been removed, so that was off the checklist. She flipped the three of hearts to the bottom of the pile. The suited prisoner is still contained, checked. The four of clubs followed after. No key cards accounted for, prisoners still at large, guards unaccounted for, communication still down. She paused on the seven of diamonds. She'd have to look through the bridge, see what cards she could find.

The com on her belt buzzed, it was Gilgamesh standard, given out to crew and marshals, nothing special. She unhooked it, saw it was Sam and smiled. "Any news?" She asked, and turned down the volume so the conversation wasn't blasting throughout the bar.

"Still pretty bad, could use you up here in the bridge with me though, still got your card?"

"Of course I do. I'll meet you up there in a bit." She said, and the screen died out. She put the com back on her belt and looked back to her cards.

"I had weird folks." Syx moved the cards in an arch from one hand to the next and then back again. She glanced at Jarred, sizing him up, and running him through her head again. She couldn't recall him from anything specifically, but that didn't mean she hadn't seen him before. She decided to lable him civilian, for the meantime. However the fact that he payed with cash caused her to raise an eyebrow. Most civilians who booked a flight with a prison ship did so because they lacked cash in general. Syx flared the deck of cards in her hand. "pick a card?"

Syx's eyes made a weird adjustment, "Three of spades?" She made careful note of his speed, definitley an implant, although she knew there were some natural speedsters still living. It wasn't a common birth power anymore though.

Pendari's silver-lilac eyes moved into slits briefly. She knew who the Marshal had been talking to on her com, and knew what was supposed to happen in the next ten minutes. But of course, Shanra would be distracting the target. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on patience. The man who waits by the side of the river will eventually see all his enemies float by in death. A picture came to mind and crushed her patience. The sight of the massacre, the slaughtered bodies, the blood, and the laughter. Her eyes opened quickly, finding the ship more peaceful than her mind.

"Johnny Ray" sat next to a table by the wall, facing out into the room. The goon running this place had taken him for what he appeared to be - cheap muscle - and had offered him a deal: free drinks (but not the good stuff) in exchange for helping to enforce the peace.
So he watched the room, observing who spoke with whom, which were prisoners, or passengers, and the Marshall, of course.
He also made note of the redhead with the braids. She didn't carry herself like the prisoners, but he hadn't seen her among the passengers before the attack. Of course, she could have been keeping to herself in her cabin, but still...

"So you'd advise me to let a prisoner have access to his gun and gear?" Syx chuckled, and shook her head a moment. "A week ago, I would have flat out said no. So how do I know I can trust you? You could turn on me at the last minute, with your gun, and even if you got the ship out of lockdown, what will make you turn it over to me?"