The Buccaneers Bay

[Unseelie]

Bucaneers began to mumble, twisting themselves into knots over her insolence, and Catalina began to lose her cool. Men were looking at her, and her cheeks, her neck, and her chest were warming up, turning red. She was making a scene, and she decided that it would be her scene.
They'd grabbed her off the streets, hauled her here at gunpoint, asked all sorts of senseless questions of her, for what? Because she'd encountered one of their fighters in space, and had the professional curtesy to not leave it a smoking ruin. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin. She was not going to let them push her around.

"I want a chance. A chance not to be my brother's sister, a chance...I'm a pirate, sir. Corsair, by way of Nelson Blys, a Bucaneer, flew for the Rogues for a while. I've shot down LSF, I've been chased out of Kusari by Dragons, I've hauled artifacts all the way down to Manhattan's surface. I've tangled with hessians, with coaltion, with Mollies and BAF. I'm a damn good pilot, and I'm completely lost. Maybe I'd just like a chance to get back to my roots. Sir."
"Honestly sir, I'm a pilot, and a damn good one. You'd be lucky to have me, and damn stupid to let me go."

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