Helen Holcomb grinned in satisfaction as the last of the Holcomb Garages transports, bearing the last of her personnel and remaining equipment, set down in the cavernous main docking bay of Hulk 854, or as it would soon be called, Holcomb 1. Already, some of the staff were celebrating; someone had broken out a heretofore unsuspected liquor collection and had set up a respectable wet bar behind what Helen thought must be an old reception desk which - among other pieces of furniture - appeared to have been dragged to the bay from elsewhere on the station by the former occupants.
Helen took a sip from her tumbler of syrspirit, smirking in satisfaction. The pirates, despite their numbers and firepower, had folded quickly in the face of an organized opponent, and the pilot had to admit it was the most satisfying victory she'd had in some time. As she thought of it, though, her face fell slightly; things had gotten somewhat out of control toward the end...
She glanced over toward the group of hired mercenaries, pursed her lips and took another sip.
The pirates may not have shown quarter in the same situation, but dammit, Helen and those she associated with were supposed to be better than them. The Barancar Orbital Authority may not have cared if the pirates were alive or dead as far as issuing the bounties went, but Helen didn't kill because it was convenient.
Shaking her head, she drained the rest of her glass and started back over toward the group of mercenaries, who were already mingling with her own crew. Grinning, she waved.
"Welcome aboard, everyone! It's not much of a spread, I admit, but it's... what we've got."
Helen took a sip from her tumbler of syrspirit, smirking in satisfaction. The pirates, despite their numbers and firepower, had folded quickly in the face of an organized opponent, and the pilot had to admit it was the most satisfying victory she'd had in some time. As she thought of it, though, her face fell slightly; things had gotten somewhat out of control toward the end...
She glanced over toward the group of hired mercenaries, pursed her lips and took another sip.
The pirates may not have shown quarter in the same situation, but dammit, Helen and those she associated with were supposed to be better than them. The Barancar Orbital Authority may not have cared if the pirates were alive or dead as far as issuing the bounties went, but Helen didn't kill because it was convenient.
Shaking her head, she drained the rest of her glass and started back over toward the group of mercenaries, who were already mingling with her own crew. Grinning, she waved.
"Welcome aboard, everyone! It's not much of a spread, I admit, but it's... what we've got."