The Captain stared at the new coming man quizzically, but for only a second. He seemed odd, and rather rude, considering how he brushed right past him. If this had been the Navy, he'd have sent the chap to the brig, in chains. Then he'd be court martialed. Harsh, but those were bad days. And they didn't end well either, seeing what happened. But as he listened to him speak, his mind snapped to a thought process like it had glue. The man claimed to be Jar'Ulah, the bounty hunter, but stuttered and kept forgetting his own name. Obviously, he wasn't JarUlah, but from his spoken words, the wanted pilot, Marcuu. 

Immediately, Neil's mind sprung to action. He pieced together the bits and pieces of the situation. 'Wanted man.... space ship...and a race.' Of course, there were some other details, but they weren't as important. He knew what to do, to get off this hellhole of a place. But it required a slightly morally ambiguous action, something Neil did not hesitate to do. He put his pistol back in his holster, and spoke, ignoring the now increasing pain in his sides "Look, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're the worst liar in this sector, [i]Marcuu[/i]. You're a wanted man in here, so what stops me to from turning you in, and getting the fuck off this planet? Obviously, nothing, but I'm no friend of Rectja. In fact, I hate the bastard, and this place. So, I wanna make a deal with you. And you won't have much of a choice." 

"Thankfully for you, its nothing much. I just want yo-" he was cut off as the bullet which was currently lodged in his hypocondrium decided that it hadn't caused enough damage, and gave through the flesh, slightly, causing him to start bleeding much more heavily. The sudden loss of blood caused a total shutdown, and all went dark for him. The last thing he felt before he was entirely knocked out was his body hitting the wall, and sliding down.