[h3][center][color=#63B8FF][b]Galina[/b][/color][/center][/h3]
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From the shadows, Galina let out a low hiss of irritation. A bad situation had taken a turn for the worse. It was no matter. It was not her problem. What was a little robbery? It was common. It was the way of the post-war world. The cramped lower class quarters of the Green Horizon were no exception. She didn’t care about the bounding islanders salvaged helmet…or his life. The line between life and death in the post-war world was sharp, razor sharp, and a small mistake could be fatal.

She didn’t care about the fight unfolding in front of her. She didn’t care until the Super Mutant strode into the fight like some crazed cowboy, some insane shootist waving his supersized weapon at the gathered thugs.

Shooting was no good on a ship. Ricochets were unavoidable if people started shooting in the people lined cabins. Worse she knew was fire, fire on a ship was feared by every sailor for a reason.

The commotion had attracted a crowd. A crowd scattered at a respectful distance. Eyes watching cautiously. Hands not ready to act, but bodies ready to dive for cover, and feet ready to run. Galina sensed an opportunity. A chance to profit. Fighting was risky. Fighting within the claustrophobic confines of a ship was riskier still. Things were getting out of hand. They had to be cooled down before some real damage was done to the ship.

Moving silently, imperceptibly forward, Galina ducked behind the makeshift counter of some wannabe rich man trader who stood mouth agape staring at the growing scuffle. She found his coin purse quickly. Tasteful. A simple leather bag tied with a simple enough string. It was heavy, but she didn’t bother counting. Slipping away as quickly as she had arrived, she returned her attentions to her unwelcome problem.

"Mawrons! Yeah, yous guys throwing hands over some fucking helmet! Settle down! All of you!" Galina shouted, kicking a nearby crate aside as she strode confidently towards the brawl.

"You smell that boys? That’s land. We’re close. And you idiots want to fight? Big man ovah there is gonna turn you into a fine mist and then put a hole in the boat with his cannon. So shut up. Be smaht, take these caps and fuck off, before the rest of us throw you overboard. Don’t need to waste bullets to feed schmucks like you to the shawks."

She tossed the bag of caps she had liberated from the distracted merchant in front of the ringleader of the tattered criminals. It would be a useful distraction if nothing else. The next step was violence. And a lot of it.