The crew had gathered in the casino floor, the ship had once been an old freight hauler hastily converted and then gradually improved. The 'El Dorado' had been someones lifelong dream; their passion. Now it was in Bakta's hands. The crew smoked and drank at the Bar as Bakta watched them on the monitor from the bridge he had gathered them there to talk to them. As he observed them he saw no similarities to his old crew. These were rough individuals but most of them had only just gone bad. Even the lost soldier man had seemed too honest for his own good... a valuable asset; that one. As the crew laughed and drank more, Bakta activated the security locks in or out. His hand hovered over the cargo realease... he had done worse. But he paused. If he killed them their usefulness was moot. They held no resemblance to a command crew, but maybe destroying hands before their usefulness was revealed was not the way to go. He punched in a course to Harvest, and brought the ship into Atmo; the crew felt the turbulence and he watched them as they headed for the doors only to find them locked, The old Colony ship came down and maintained an offload position in the desert "Cap-?" Iffy manned the comms, and Bakta punched up the vidcomm. "I'm here, Iff" "What's going on? are we landing?" The Mute Camm paced nervously beside her. "No, but you lot are." "Wha-? Cap what the hell? Why are we locked in?" Brockie was shouting colorful curses at a separate monitor. "You son of a- I'll k-kill you when I get my hands on you!" "Listen up newscum, you may not know this but I have my own problems, and babysitting a sorry crew thew likes of this is nothing I want a trillion cycles. It's nothing personal, it's just you're a liability now." The crew scrambled for something to pry the doors open. "You're making a mistake Bakta!" The old cargo drop began to screech with unuse as it lowered the casino to the ground." "No I've made a lot of those; I've got some private matters to take care of, made a promise to an old friend; mostly why I'm leaving you here instead of spacing you like I'm wont with useless folk." The Brown Coat held on to the ships floor as it lowered but lost his grip and tumbled onto a Barstool below, the others come to help him up. "I suggest not hanging on, I'm haading into atmo and you know how these cargo lifts are prone to breakin off in midflight, not to mention it's mighty cold in Space these days I hear." The crew took the warning and departed the lift. "Hey look on the bright side, get a little harder and maybe you can come and find me, get some of that sweet revenge. You won't though... get revenge I mean. Maybe you can come work for me when you've learned a thing or two. " The crew stood flabbergasted as they became the second crew to be betrayed by Bakta Peters. On the Bridge some moments later Bakta Plotted a course for Anvil, He had questions for a certain lackluster guardian angel, and If he was going to get the answers, he needed his ship...