Sarah smiled as the man searched for words. Many did- she knew the effect she had on men; she came from a long line of women who had the same effect on men. She sat down at an empty table, ripping open the fresh bread and shaking her head. The food was much, much better than it had been before. She'd get spoiled, with all the Marines on board. The speechless man followed her, and she smiled up at him, tilting her head to the side.

"You'd think, hmm?" She asked, giving him another mischievous smile before taking a small, polite bite of her food. Her own spoon was old- wood of dark variety. At first glance, it was plain, but when warranted a second look it was easy to see the delicate designs carved into it. It was well crafted, but gave no hint as to her possible birth status. A matching knife and fork had been produced and sat to either side of the bowl. When not in use they tucked neatly into a prettily embroidered napkin. The napkin that was now neatly spread over her lap.

"Well, it's nice to meet you- do you prefer Lieutenant, or Your Grace?" She asked, an amused note in her voice. He had of course introduced himself with all his titles. His kind generally did. Of course, she didn't yet return his introduction- no, she was having much to fun playing with the nobleman.

In the beginning, that was what she'd been raised to do. Sarah was the daughter of a Courtesan on Gamadon-one of the many pleasure moons and ports that dotted the system. Like most of the pleasure centers, they were clustered in the richest areas of town. She had known Ustulo well then- she'd done her apprenticeship there, following around the various Courtesans that giggled, twittered, sang, and danced around the rich men at fancy parties. The sort of parties that you didn't invite your wife to.

It had not been the life for her, but she had learned more than a few tricks in the meantime. It started with Manners, how to speak, talk, sing, and dance like all the rest, but the best was learning how to read and manipulate rick men. Manipulation and affecting people was her specialty. It was a skill that got her plenty of jobs, and she'd likely never starve thanks to her skills.

The mystery meat and potatoes from her bowl consumed, she put the biscuit into the broth, letting it soak for a moment. Her spoon was delicately tapped on the side of her bowl and then rested to the side as she dug into the sodden biscuit with a fork and knife.

"Of course, I look forward to more of his cooking. Anything is better than what we had before. The man was a disgrace." She frowned softly. It was not the delicate pout of a noblewoman- there was something dangerous in the back of her eyes that hinted at her next answer.

"Oh? My name is Sarah, but most call me Bo'sun." She turned her eyes up once more to him, a smile playing on her features.

The Bo'sun- traditionally the most feared man aboard a ship. They ran inspections, handed out punishments- including the lash- and was the eyes, ears, and arm of the Captain when he wasn't about. But this was no hulking mass with more muscle than brain.

Immediately, her hatred of the old Cook would make sense. How often had necessity and the Captain stayed the young woman's hand?

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"Well, I'm sure the Cap'n will be happy to see ye well. Last thing we need is to return the Boss's son with some grievous wound." There was little time for him to respond to the strange comment, as it was then their turn to get food.

Amy was more than ecstatic to see Andrew in the galley, and produced her bowl, buzzing like a child on Christmas morning. Unlike the poor Captain, Amy didn't have to worry about the ship's reputation (beyond her ability to run, of course) and like the rest of the crew was excited about the prospect of decent food.

"Och, Andrew, ye be the biggest charmer of the three of them." Amy said, dropping the proper language she'd been trying at for the Marine's sake. Unlike the Captain, she couldn't keep up with it for longer than a half hour before it gave her a migraine the size of some of the systems.

"After all, none of 'em have yet to figure that the way to a sailor's heart is through his or her stomach." She put the biscuit straight into the bottom of her bowl and poured the stew over top.

"Potatoes? And it isn't even Sunday. What a treat. I'll see you in my bunk." Amy gave Andrew a large, silly wink as she followed Barnabus to the table where the Bo'sun and Lukas sat. She found her seat next to Sarah, starting to dig in with her fork as the men quarreled.

"How's the Captain?" Sarah asked, her voice low. If anyone knew, it'd be Amy. The Engineer was the closest the Captain had to family, and while many could claim the Captain as a friend, Amy was the closest to her.

"Getting some sleep." Amy answered, digging into her food. They both watched the men's argument with smiles and shakes of their heads. Two of the four women aboard, they were used to such behavior from men. Of course, the crew had learned better by now.

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Liam smiled brightly as Paddy asked if he could join them for dinner. Immediately he liked the man- something about him reminded him of the crew, and even sometimes the Captain.

"Of course you can!" He answered brightly, spinning once more in the chair. "I bet my mates would be so excited to meet you!"

Of the two dozen regular crew members of the Valant, seven were children- three girls, four boys. Of the seventeen left, there were three women and fourteen men aboard. Because of the nature of the mission- running cargo instead of doing raids on enemy ships- they had lost four of the men, who had taken the Captain's offer to release them early from their contract.

He swung his legs, looking around the small engine room, and then back over to Paddy.

"Of course, ye'll have to wear your shirt. It's okay in here- I don't think Amy minded much, but it's important for mess. And then there'll be the officer's mess tomorrow- you should dress up for that."