She rolled her eyes at the solicitude of her two most manly male crew members, laughing a little at their worry over what was just going to be another small scar on her skin. "I ain't dyin', Cobb, an' I don't need t'be carried anywhere," she told him with a grin, looking up at Brent for a long moment. "M'fine, flyboy, just a scratch."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut yer face Cobb, instead o'talkin', do," he replied with a grunt as he shifted his rifle to have the barrel rest against his shoulder as he walked toward the dead bodies of the attackers, and started to rummage about for the money, weapons, and anything else of value they might have had with them. He glanced over his shoulder at the captain, nodded, and tossed off a wink, then went back to searching. "M'cap'ns gonna need a whole lot more 'n' that tae let ya carry her anywhere, Cobb."

Once he was assured that the captain was truly going to be alright, he went to assist in the looting of the bodies. He'd been called Cobb, and that was good enough for him. He had no interest in the captain and Brent's personal affairs and wouldn't reply to Brent's blatant showing of jealousy. "Think I found our pay." He called out to the two and hefted a small bag up. It was tossed casually over his shoulder, holding onto it by it's drawstrings. "Looks like a good sum, too."

"Better be, that gorram skinflint owes Badger more'n 'e thought 'e could get away with," Pol growled, heaving herself to her feet. She leaned against the pock-marked tree, hoping like hell neither man noticed the dizziness that had swept over her, and holstered her revolver. "Brent, stick the money in y'belt ... Cobb, look over them weapons, see what's worth sellin'. Then we'll get back t'the ship."

Blatant showing of jealousy? The captain wouldn't let him carry her anywhere either. All prideful and the like. He was stating mere fact. He had no reason to be jealous of Cobb, be annoyed by, sure, jealous? Not in the least. As Cobb found the loot, he started grabbing extra guns, ammunition, and whatever valuables the attackers had on their persons. He turned, offering the weapons to Cobb, and holding out the money as the captain ordered. The weapons had been packed together in a large sack one of the attackers held, it carried a few sundries originally, nothing valuable, so he dumped it. "Aye, we headed off world after this, cap'n?"

He nodded and handed over the loot and took the bag of weapons. Walking over to the captain and Brent, he busied himself with the pull they took from the dead bodies. "Mother Mary.." He pulled a weapon out of the bag and held it up. "Do you know what this is?" He turned it over in his hand and then held it up to check the site against a tree branch. Low whistle followed.

"Aye, we'll be headed back t'Persephone soon as Hendricks gives us the all clear," Pol nodded to Brent, one hand pressing Cobb's bloodied shirt tightly to her injured arm. It was only sheer force of will that was keeping her from swaying; after all, a bullet wound is a shocking business, especially when the injured person was flaming mad to begin with. Her eyes turned to Cobb curiously as he whistled, admiring the piece. "Can't say as I know it," she shrugged, hissing a little in pain, and glanced quizzically at Brent. "Any ideas, string bean?"

"Nope, I know ships, not guns," he shrugged, jerking his head in the general direction of the Nighthawke. "Whatever it is though, it can wait 'til we're on board and locked away. Fellas here might have friends," he said with a jerk of his thumb toward the dead folk. "Or the law could come sniffin' about, I'm none too keen on that."

Carefully he placed the gun back into the bag. "You ain't whistlin' Dixie, Brent. That there's a laser pistol, only issued to Alliance officers. And where there's one, there's going to be a hell of a lot more." he placed the bag over his shoulder. "Sooner we're outta here, th' better."

"Gotta grab the goods first, boys, don't be so 'asty." Pol shook her head at them both with a grin, but especially at Brent; you'd think after ten months with her, he'd have learned by now that she never walked away from a profit without good reason, risk or no risk. "Can we fence that thing on Persephone, Cobb, or is't hot goods?" she asked curiously, walking past to kick a nameless body off the crate of meds they'd come here to sell. "Brent, y'gonna need t'find us a new buyer f'this lot, too."

"I'll get on it," he nodded. "I've searched through most o'the group, a lot of rags, some coin, the loot, and all those weapon's Cobb's got over there," he said with a jerk of his head toward Cobb.

"It'll bring a shiny coin." he nodded to confirm. When the body was kicked off of the crate, he bent to lift it up. "Well, we got the loot, we got booty and we've got what we came with. Not a bad day, if you're askin' me." He smiled at the pair. "C'mon, let's get off of this rock." Glancing back, he shot a wink to the whore looking down at them from the room he'd spent the night in, then he turned back towards the Nighthawke. "Not a bad day, a'tall."