He was scrawny, for a criminal; a life spent plotting star charts and running from damn near every bar he entered hadn't really forced him to improve upon his physique. That, coupled with the unruly mop of red hair that tapered down into a thin ponytail, and the rather nice suit in which he dressed, often led people to pigeonhole him as some greenhorn fringer rather than a legitimate smuggler; and Dav preferred it that way.

Something roused him from his blessed apathy; at first he could have sworn it was his old comm-link, one he'd used long before he'd become a smuggler. He passed it off as a lack of sleep, he'd just spent the last six hours at the navigations console. It wasn't until the commlink alerted him a second time that he'd realized someone was trying to contact him. In one quick fashion he slid off the bed and began digging through a box of, what he called 'useless junk', in his closet. With a little effort, and a few curse words, he pulled a rather archaic-looking transmitter from the box and settled back down on his bed.

"Encrypted transmission... what the hell?" Brow furrowed; Dav activated the transmission, his jaw dropping as the image of a stunning brunette appeared before him. "Hot damn..." he muttered, listening as Senator Cerra introduced herself and informed him of her offer. When she finished, and the hologram dissipated, he sat there in silence.

"...How the hell did she get my signal?"

Still, a pretty girl like that, offering a 50,000 credit reward for a simple grab-and-drop? The Captain had to hear about this. The bottle was left on his nightstand, as was the fresh cigarette he'd lit not a moment earlier, and Dav made his way to the galley.

When they were in places like this, he stayed on the ship, and always had Tijana at his side; often doing various odds and ends throughout the ship. When he heard the blaster shot in the hangar, he immediately went sprinting for it, grabbing Tijana from her holster while doing so. By the time he reached the hatch, peering out to see the enemy. When the Mrlssi squawked at the Captain, he leaned out and quickly lined up a shot as the Captain flicked him off, and put a bolt from Tijana right into the Ishori's vermilion line, following which he shot the same spots on the Gran and the Trandoshan in quick succession; and then proceeding to fire chest shots into the Mrlssi and two humans, taking cover from any dying blaster shots towards himself.

He holstered Tijana, and walked out onto the ramp, looking over the Model IV Skiff. It wasn't too bad, didn't seemed to be damaged by his shots. Could come in handy for them, either to be used or to be sold for some credits. He then walked down the steps and onto the landing deck, looking at the mess. "I'd hate to be the janitor..." he commented. "So, Cap'n, friends of yours?" he asked, with his arms folded, looking down at the Ishori's body, and exploded head. He hadn't thought to check the back of the Captain for bits and pieces that might have gotten on him.

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Dav lit a cigarette and leaned back on the ramp's support beam. He puffed absently on the cancer stick whilst surveying the damage. "It looks to me like the Mrlssi had a thing for you, Cap'n. Can't see why; maybe she likes submissive men." Chuckling in spite of himself, Dav reached into his pocket to grab the commlink, but then he thought better of it. Rawls, after all, had just been held hostage; not that being held at gunpoint differentiated from the norm much, if at all. He'd tell him later; alone, this... Ja'nar had gotten ahold of a private channel he hadn't used since he'd left Naboo, and that could only mean she'd gotten it from someone he'd known back on his home world.

To say he missed Naboo would be a lie; truth be told Davon hadn't paid it any mind since he'd joined up with Rawls on this tin can. Things were different now... much different. He wasn't the cocky, arrogant kid who'd left his father, and his future, behind. That kid turned into a criminal; shacked up with other criminals. This was his home now, these people were his family. His borderline-psychotic, incessantly sarcastic, alcoholic family. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"What have you boys gotten into now?" Mara said, her voice carrying up the ramp to the three rather rough and guilty looking fellows were lingering. Her piercing gaze, darkly rimmed in kohl eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow, fell on each of them for a fleeting second or two. Rawls, looking out of breath and rather well....like he had just avoided something potentially disastrous as always. Ransom, well, there wasn't much different about Ransom in her eyes. Then of course, Davon. Her gaze lingered on him for perhaps a moment more than the others before she started up the ramp. The heels of her boots clicked against the metal, letting a slight echo filter up into the cargo bay of the Aphelion.

"A girl can't go shopping in Coruscant for an hour without missing something. I swear." Mara didn't even need to be told that something was going on, she could just tell. "So what did I miss? Got a job? Someone trying to kill us? Price on our heads again?" She was just stabbing in the dark with her guesses, as it could have been any one of them.

He was carrying his luggage (he had obviously over packed being as OCD as he was, making sure to prepare for every possibility), trying to be as discreet as could be while he made his way towards the designated area.
Blastershots…

Adoven couldn’t help but instinctively recoil against the wall as he heard the sounds, his heart racing. He stayed motionless for a few minutes, but no other sounds followed. Was that good? Or bad?... He just hoped this had nothing to do with what he had himself come here to do.

He slowly picked up his blaster with his right hand and continued on his way, the pistol close to his chest so that he could hopefully threaten or disarm anyone who’d come his way. If he was lucky enough… He had never bluffed his way out of a standoff before, let alone actually shot at someone to disarm them (though he was proficient enough with a blaster that he could manage it). Although admittedly… he had never actually shot at another living being… And there he went, getting WAY ahead of himself again. He thought too much.

Slowly but surely, he continued on his way towards the Aphelion. And he hoped he'd find it soon enough.

That's when he noticed that other people, live beings, were occupying themselves about the place. Funny how the mind only focused on some things sometimes, ignoring everything else around. Were these the people his contact had contracted though? Or were the crew the ones that were littered about the place? Damn it all. What should he do? Back away slowly with his hands held in the air?

"Congrats on the mass slaughter, Ransom. Well done, as always. Percy...nice jacket." Mara stopped and looked to Rawls. "Did you say passenger? What passenger?" She was honestly glad that she had taken the time to clean up and put fresh sheets and towels in the passenger staterooms. There would have been flowers but they never fared well on long space flights. And she didn't really care to be made fun of over it. It wasn't entirely her fault that she liked to make the passengers that they took on from time to time to feel comfortable, at home,and able to relax a little. After all, with the Crew of the Aphelion, a person would need some sort of relaxation.

Mara spotted the stranger entering the hanger. Not the most pleasant sight to walk into for him, she was sure. She, herself, was used to it. Luckily she hadn't been involved in too many of the flaming shootouts that had happened with the Crew, but there had been enough. It was never terribly pleasant, but a part of life anymore. Either way, she hardly minded anymore. Slowly, somehow, the crew was starting to feel like her family, more so than her real family or lack thereof.

"So I'll try and smooth this over and....get him settled." Mara said as she stepped further into the ship, only to stash her bags until she could get them to her own quarters to put them away. With that, she walked back down the ramp and stepped over a body, straightening her hair with her fingers as she went. The woman stopped a short distance from Adoven and offered a rather dazzling smile.

"You alright?" She asked as she held up a hand in a little wave, just a simple gesture. "I'm Mara, by the way. Guessing you're looking for, well, the Aphelion?" Mara was pretty sure that not many people knew where the Aphelion was docked, unless they were told.

He apparently did not hear any mention of cleaning up the mess, besides he was one to think that if you made it, you dealt with it. He spent the next couple of minutes admiring the ungainly craft until he heared the ship mentioned. “Prep the ship, right,” he said as he vaulted out of the skiff.

Unfortunately the next thing he heard was Mara’s compliment. Laced with sarcasm though it undoubtedly was it came, none-the-less, from a woman. Percy stopped dead in his tracks three steps up the turbolift shaft. He dropped back to the bottom and whipped around to face her, now oblivious to the mess around him, and started walking towards her.

“You really think so Mara?” He questioned eagerly. “I got this two days ago at this seedy looking little shop over near the…well you probably don’t care about that but it was fantastic, I never would have thought so of a shop that looked like that. Never would have given it a second look but I was following this good loo… uhh...anyhow, they had this dress in there that would have accented…I should say...I should have just gotten it for…probably wouldn’t like it…prep the ship Percy.” And with that he turned back to the lift and started climbing again.

Dav eyed the newcomer with a bemused glance, even from across the hangar the man's discomfort was tangible. He'd caught word of several passengers coming aboard; with his luck he'd be stuck with dish duty while Mara got the guided tour. At any rate, while Vanden would have loved to make himself useful in some capacity, he had business to see to. Feeling his shirt pocket to ensure the comm unit was tucked away safely, he slipped past the bewildered Percy and Mara on the ramp and made his way up.

He followed closely behind Rawls, keeping silent until they were a safe distance away from the rest of the crew. He reached into his pocket to grab the commlink, but then curiosity got the better of him. How the hell had Rawls managed to anger a group that large? Last he'd checked there weren't any bounties on their heads...

"So... dare I ask what the hell happened back there? Or is this one of those moments when we have a drink and laugh about it later?"

Ryner offered a curt and polite nod of the head as a woman approached and waved at him. "Hmm? Oh yeah, fine thanks. Just a bit surprised by this. Wasn't really expecting to walk up face to face with..." he motioned to the corpses. "Mix that with the slop they serve at the nearest Cantina and you get gastric reflux." Not that he'd ever eat at those grease stops.

If Mara tried to judge him by his clothing, she probably would never guess he was usually such a snob and sharp dresser. He definitely passed as a roguish character. Even his accent had changed. He had abandoned and traded his posh dialect and High Coruscanti accent for a more Corellian one. Though it was slightly strained and he was sure it wasn't all that convincing in the least. Then again, he was his own worst critic. So who knew how authentic he'd sound. "Nice to meet you, Mara. I'm Dacres. Terrent Dacres. And I sure am. Glad I found it. This place was like a maze." he said, pointing over his shoulders towards the hallway he had just emerged from as he talked. His eyes couldn't help but dart to the other crew members still outside the ship or going up the ramp and back inside though. Was he judging them? Most assuredly. He'd be stuck with them on the ship for the duration of the trip, so he needed to get the measure of them as soon as he could. Old habits died hard. Or hardly died at all, really.