Subject: Raven, "Princess" Amelia.
Location: Hall, near bar
Amelia reaches for he still-not-present-because-she-couldn't-smuggle-in face-burner, with a shouting curse in her native tounge. She sighs. [i]Maybe I'm drunk enough already, without alcohol.[/i] She looks toward her feet. [i]Maybe I'm also not ready for this normal world, where I am no longer the captain, and I may be ignored or disrespected without the disrespector being beheaded in the vacuum of space...[/i] She looks toward the barman, who had entered the hall moments ago. In an attempt to sound less... arrogant... she speaks calmly, and as humbly as she can. "C-can you tell me the p-protocol for this situation?"
Of course, this comes with a stutter, as well as the all-important nervous vocal-shake. How alien such a manner of speaking can be, maybe she is coming down with some sort of flu? She clears her throat and tries again, this time trying to do as she previously was, just without the stupid verbal errors. "I need to know, am I supposed to check out the situation, or do I go back to the jail and wait for the bastard to show up?"
Of course, she is talking to the man who gives everyone their beer, not the guy who reads all the prison warden training manuals. But there still was a chance. If all else fails, she does still have a great amount of stolen money for emergencies stored somewhere on the ship, but she isn't quite ready to give all that up yet.