A/N: Here I present the next chapter of this story. *Bows*

I do not own the characters of One Piece. I only have claim to my own interpretation of the characters.

Zoro lay awake, staring at the ceiling from his hammock. Luffy mumbled in his sleep a few feet away.

He'd been waking up a few minutes earlier the past few mornings, on their way to the floating restaurant. He didn't have any concrete reason for his anticipatory mood, just a rumor.

Johnny said that he, Hawk-Eye, frequented the restaurant. Whether or not they encountered him was up to fate.

Rolling out of his hammock, Zoro noted the absence of the crew's sniper. He cast more than a casual glance at the empty space. He might not have spent much thought on it, except he didn't remember Usopp's hammock ever being occupied the previous night.

He shrugged and pulled on his boots. Katana at his waist, he trudged out onto the deck. Dawn was slowly peeking over the horizon, the sky still caught in the wispy grey-silver of twilight.

Zoro considered starting the day with meditation, but the light burning in the galley changed his mind.

Usopp greeted him before he'd even fully opened the door.

"Hey Zoro."

The sniper had his back to him, working at his bench, so how the hell-

"Haki." Zoro said aloud, recalling the demonstration from days earlier, and specifically how Usopp predicted Johnny showing up before he actually appeared.

"Hm?" Usopp asked. He only gave the swordsman half of his attention, focused on whatever project occupied his space.

"That's how you knew it was me," Zoro said, walking in and taking a seat at the table. "You never did finish going over how it works. It seems incredibly useful."

"It is," Usopp said, pulling his goggles up. He squinted, twisting some mechanism into place. "And on the Grand Line, it'll become incredibly necessary after a while for us to survive."

Zoro leaned forward.

"You've been there before?"

Usopp didn't answer right away, hands hesitating in their work.

"My Dad wrote a couple letters home," he said after a minute. "I've learned a few things."

Assuming the subject was personal, Zoro didn't think much of the sniper's vaguely guarded body language. He didn't need to know, and he had other things on his mind anyway.

Zoro had seen destructive power before. Luffy came by it naturally. Zoro had worked himself into the ground for his own strength. Yet until Usopp, he'd never seen it wielded so efficiently. Apparently, there were others who possessed that same force.

And Zoro honestly couldn't say how he stacked up in comparison.

"Without at least a decent mastery of it," Usopp said, as though interpreting the direction of Zoro's thoughts. "There's about a snowball's chance in Hell of leaving a lasting mark on history."

Zoro winced. Usopp hadn't been explicit, but he may as well have looked the swordsman dead in the eye for all the difference that made. The sniper obviously meant Luffy and his dream to become the Pirate King.

'Let alone the World's Greatest Swordsman.'

Zoro let his head fall back and he stared at the ceiling.

The world seemed a bit bigger than just a few days earlier.

"You said anyone can learn it?" He asked after several silent beats.

"I did."

Zoro shot to his feet, gaze hard and piercing on his newest crew mate.

"Teach me."

For the first time since he walked in, Usopp looked at him fully. The sniper gestured toward the window, still staring at him with a bemused expression.

"Now?" He asked, incredulous. "It's the middle of the"

Usopp glanced out the window and his protest trailed off at the faint traces of light filtering through. He let his arm fall as his point fell moot. Zoro noted, then, the red tinge in his eyes and the dark, sunken circles beneath them.

"Huh." Usopp said dumbly.

Zoro briefly wondered what sort of mental state left Usopp staring at the approaching dawn like it was a grand revelation. He didn't get time to dwell over it as the marksman clapped his hands and stood.

"Right! We can work in a bit before the restaurant opens," he said. "Now I just need a suitable blindfold."

Zoro blinked. Twice.

"What?"

There existed a school a thought which said one's interests tended to coincide with one's aptitudes. In other words, people usually enjoyed, and therefore pursued, things they were good at.

As a consequence of events during his 'first round', (and perhaps some innate talent) Usopp was quite skilled at freaking out.

For all that, he did not enjoy it!

His mind raced while he searched the kitchen for a cloth, studiously avoiding the drawer he knew they were kept in. He answered Zoro's confusion with a cryptic

"I'll explain in a second."

As was becoming habit, he reviewed the conversation he'd gone through thus far. He'd prepared more than a few basic responses for when Zoro came to him about Haki. Guidelines, obviously, not set-in-stone scripts, since the ability to improvise was essential in his overall scheme to subtly… manipulate (Kami, he hated that word) things (events, not his crew mates) so his nakama would be stronger and better prepared.

His practice of economy with the truth had, thus far, withstood field testing.

(My Dad wrote a couple letters home… I've learned a few things.)

Taken separately, neither statement was false. His Dad did send a couple letters home- exactly two. One for a birthday Usopp had before he could read, and another for an anniversary with his Mom.

Obviously the 'I've learned things' bit referred to other avenues of information and learning. The sniper was getting pretty good at skirting around deceit on technicalities.

He hadn't anticipated the swordsman showing interest in learning so quickly. It had been Usopp's aim, naturally, when he gave his performance, yet he'd expected a longer interval between- at least as long as it took them to reach the Grand Line. It threw his plans, rudimentary as they were, off kilter. Usopp wasn't Robin, he couldn't calculate the implications and potential consequences of these little shifts in the time it took for a natural pause in conversation to turn awkward.

'Quit whining about it.' A voice in Usopp's mind told him off, one that sounded suspiciously like the fiercely loyal swordsman the marksman remembered. 'Get your shit together.'

Usopp breathed.

'Okay,' he thought. 'Quick rundown, what're the risks of going through with this?'

His inner coward reared his head and made to scream. He got as far as graphic images superimposed in his mind's eye- blood, fire and cloying, maddening darkness- before Usopp shut it down with much effort and extreme prejudice.

'Immediate risks.' He amended.

Someone recognized that an East Blue pirate on a rookie crew (for Usopp, despite appearances, no longer qualified) could utilize Haki. Word spread, the marines developed an acute interest in Usopp and, by proxy, his crew mates. Life got a lot more difficult and stressful really early on, and they possibly earned the attention of the Yonko-

'Right! Far enough. And the benefits…'

Usopp looked up at Zoro, cloth secured.

"I'll tell you now," he said. "You aren't going to master this overnight. It'll be weeks, probably months before we see real results."

"Okay." Zoro replied immediately, tone and expression clearly indicating he was not at all put off.

'Benefit- Zoro gets an early start on Haki training and maybe, possibly, just-a-chance, he awakens Observation in Paradise.'

That really was the best anyone could hope for. Awakening, not mastery, not by a long shot. Full awakening came under extreme duress, of the exceedingly fatal variety, and mastery from a combination of training the mind, the senses and continued exposure to sources of stress.

Or at least, that was the most concise theory Usopp had cobbled together from pieces of hearsay, experience and his own inferences.

'Constant risk versus incremental progress toward a potential huge payoff.'

Usopp cast an assessing look at Zoro. He called to mind an older man, one covered in scars and characterized by the strength of his word. A man who regularly disregarded orders for bedrest and fought relentlessly despite coming out the other side of so many fights looking like he'd been tossed into a thresher.

He checked with his Haki- only a few cooks were beginning to stir, and the Baratie didn't officially open for another hour.

He chucked the cloth at Zoro.

"We'll do a bit before breakfast," he said. He pulled his slingshot from his sash. "This should be an addition to your usual training, not a replacement for any of it."

Zoro raised an eyebrow and his mouth twisted a little into a scowl, like the idea that he would slack off offended him.

(It probably did.)

"Look," Usopp said firmly. "Even if you don't need me to warn you against getting complacent- and you probably don't- I will not do things by half. Not with my nakama."

That mollified the swordsman. His brow smoothed out and he inclined his head with something like respect.

"Right."

"Besides, I've got things to do today that don't involve shooting ball bearings at a blindfolded man."

Zoro, to his credit, didn't even flinch. His expression merely shifted into one of muted befuddlement.

"It's a legitimate method," Usopp assured him, taking great pains to keep his voice as even as possible. "I picked it up from someone a lot stronger than me."

("Ooh! You got your Observation? That's so cool, Usopp! Rayleigh hit me with a club a bunch to help me get good at it.")

Zoro, in his way that he had, parsed out enough meaning from that, and he shrugged.

"Fair enough."

Not for the first time, Usopp was grateful that Zoro didn't ask a lot of questions.

Nami, one hand tucked under her chin, stood on deck, trying to puzzle out the sight in front of her.

"Not that I'm fundamentally opposed to a few knocks in the head," she said slowly. "But is there any particular reason why you're pelting Zoro with pebbles and ball bearings?"

The more pertinent and burning question was why Zoro didn't make any move to stop Usopp or otherwise end the abuse. He and Luffy had a penchant for getting hurt, sure, but they weren't typically passive about it. Though the swordsman twitched occasionally, he otherwise stood in place, blind and empty-handed.

Zoro took another hit to the dome, and he grumbled. Nami glanced over his welts and cuts for anything she might need to bandage- none of the idiots on board could be trusted with first aid, especially when they'd all been surprised when she explained scurvy to them.

Before Usopp could answer her, Tweedledee and Tweedledum announced their presence the only way they knew how- by shouting.

"Zoro-aniki!" Yosaku cried.

"What is the meaning of this, Usopp-aniki?" Johnny demanded.

The sniper, unfazed by the violation of a briefly semi-tranquil morning, fired another round before he glanced at Nami.

"Training," he said, loud enough for the bounty hunting duo to hear. The remainder of his answer was admittedly sparse. "Working to develop his Observation."

Nami heard the capitalized emphasis that Zoro's sword buddies clearly didn't. She hummed, thoughtful. Though the method didn't suit her, even with the short demonstration Usopp gave them, the ability would be an incredible asset. She had a ton of other questions about it, of course, but Usopp told her Haki was a crew-only topic. Johnny and Yosaku didn't count. (She didn't either- for whatever reason, Usopp had trusted her with it though. Just because she planned to rob them all blind didn't mean she didn't have standards.)

Usopp sighed and turned on Johnny and Yosaku, who still regarded the sniper with not-a-little incredulity and suspicion.

"If you're thinking of attacking me," he said, tone a bit clipped and irritable. "Keep in mind that you're on this ship as guests and Zoro's friends right now. You breach that courtesy, you go back to being bounty hunters, got it?"

Nami raised an eyebrow and watched the scene play out. Zoro lifted his blindfold, eyes a bit narrowed. He seemed more annoyed with the interruption than anything. The swordsman found his friends watching him expectantly, and he returned the attention with an odd look.

"Don't look at me," he said. "He's not wrong." After a moment, as an afterthought, he added. "I asked him to teach me anyway."

Nami snickered at the gobsmacked look on their faces. They got over it soon enough, but it clearly shocked them to have Zoro's priorities so blatantly laid out for them, and so contrary to what they'd previously known. Nami had been surprised herself on first meeting the former-bounty-hunter-turned-pirate, though she'd been much better at internalizing her reaction.

"Ah, no," Johnny said, stammering a little. "Of course, Zoro-aniki- we just thought"

"It was a very strange scene to see first thing in the morning!" Yosaku finished in a rush.

Nami strangled a sigh before it could escape. That double speak, finishing-each-other's-sentences would get annoying inside of an hour and she could feel the phantom of a future headache already.

"Whatever." Usopp muttered under his breath.

'Somebody's in a mood.' Nami thought.

She took one look at the marksman and almost flinched.

'Oh… No wonder.'

Because Usopp looked dead on his feet. His curled black hair seemed flatter, his eyes bloodshot, and his shooting hand, now that he wasn't using it, shuddered without apparent input.

"Usopp," she said. "When was the last time you slept?"

The sniper blinked. Twice. He slowly turned his head toward her, and blinked several more times before his features pinched together in thought. (Because apparently the answer warranted actual fucking thought.)

"Um," Usopp finally said. "I might have had a nap… yesterday? This morning? Yesterday morning? I was in the middle of something at the time."

Nami frowned. She glanced at Zoro, who'd surrendered his scowl for an expression of mild curiosity in the question. He didn't know either. With neither avenue yielding any results, she changed tactics.

"Did something keep you up?" She asked.

Usopp's focus went far away, his expression turned listless, vaguely haunted. It was only for a second, but Nami knew enough from even that much.

"I," Usopp said haltingly, pulling himself back from wherever he'd gone. "I got really invested in one of my projects."

The sniper had nightmares. Same as she did.

Nami didn't pry further, though she didn't know how to segue from that. Of all things, Luffy came to the rescue and shattered the tension without trying.

"Yosh! I'll get Sanji to join us as our cook today!" He declared, pumping his fist in the air. He blinked when he noticed them all on deck, his eyes honing in on Zoro's welts and small cuts.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked, tilting his head.

Zoro gave a put-upon sigh and discarded the makeshift blindfold.

"Training." He grunted.

And, in that aggravating monosyllabic way of communicating those two had, Luffy just nodded like he understood.

"Breakfast!" He shouted. His face lit up again at the promise of food. Zoro and his groupies followed him into the restaurant.

"I'll catch up later," Usopp said with a wave. "I'm gonna keep working on this project."

Nami didn't worry about Usopp.

When she sat at the table with Luffy and Zoro, she didn't miss having another person to commiserate and roll their eyes when Luffy booger-ed Zoro's water. She didn't miss the extra laughter when Zoro forced it on the rubber moron instead.

She did not feel the absence of a long-nose kid from a tiny village, sitting across from her and holding his own plates, bemused by their table destroyed when the proprietor hurled Sanji in their direction.

Nor did Nami use her feminine wiles to coax 'Sanji-kun' into preparing a dish for a certain sniper. She did not pout until he agreed to take it out to the Merry personally.

She certainly did not give Zoro a grateful smile when he swatted Luffy's wandering hands away from that specific plate. (He hadn't even looked in Sanji's direction, which meant he did it subconsciously. Insane.)

Nope. Not a chance. No way had she grown that attached to two morons in a couple months, let alone a kid she met a week ago.

"Merry-chan, Merry-chan. Ah, it really is a lamb."

Sanji murmured aloud until he found the caravel Nami specified. Even though he was on the clock, he paused to appreciate the newly painted flag. The Jolly Roger suited the hyperactive kid who'd been trying to recruit him since they met yesterday. (Sanji wasn't sure, but he doubted that recruitment worked that way.)

He hesitated at the gangplank before stepping aboard. As adamant and steadfast as he'd been in his refusal, Luffy had sparked hope within the recesses of his soul.

Hope gave way to expectation, and expectation would bring disappointment that he couldn't (wouldn't, dammit) sail for his dream. Resentment would follow- for the freedom he'd scraped together, for the debt he was paying off with that freedom, and for the old man at the center of it all.

Aggravating as Zeff could be, Sanji would not spite him like that.

Instead, he locked it away and stepped on deck of the caravel. He made a point to ignore the faint rush of whimsy he felt.

"Oi!" He called. He trotted up to the galley. "I've got an order of beef stir fry with shiitake over fried rice!"

Sanji found the long nose- Luffy had enthusiastically introduced him as his sniper- curled on a workbench, sawing logs.

'Does the hat count as a uniform?' He wondered absently, noting the weathered replica of Luffy's hat in Long-nose's hand.

The cook shrugged, set on kicking him awake. Luffy yelling for him, for more food and to join his crew in turn, shot that idea down. If the idiot caught Sanji on his ship, he'd be insufferable in his insistence.

He left the plate and utensils on the table with a hastily scrawled note.

The wonderful and lovely Nami-san commissioned this meal on your behalf. Eat every bite or I'll kick your ass.

Then he bolted, hoping Luffy didn't catch sight of him.

Usopp rolled in his sleep, long nose twitching at a delicious scent. He blinked blearily, confused for several seconds. He'd slept so hard that he'd misplaced himself, and he rubbed the side of his face that matched the grain of his workbench. He shook his head to dispel the fugue of his midday nap, almost reflexively 'listening' for his nakama's voices.

'Right,' he thought, anchoring himself with the fragment of Nami's reborn, if unfinished, Climatact in one hand. 'On the Merry. Recruiting Sanji.'

Without thinking, he hugged the worn straw hat, the one from the first time, once before quickly slipping it into his satchel.

"Eh?"

He mumbled at the sound of crinkling paper under his hand. He found a note bearing Sanji's handwriting, and he could hear the chef's voice through the familiar informality he directed towards anyone of the male sex.

"Shiitake, huh?"

The sniper stabbed the chopped mushroom and a chunk of beef, digging up a forkful of rice with it. Usopp bit his lip with a shaking smile, a couple faraway memories tinted by nostalgia playing in his mind.

"I ate a poisonous mushroom when I was a kid that made me sick!"

"Well there's no poison in that mushroom, so eat it, shitty long-nose!"

Usopp shoved the whole morsel into his mouth, chewing slowly.

"Nami-swan~ bon appetit! Hey you bums, lunch is served!"

Luffy vaulted into the galley, displaying only enough agility and finesse to snap his rubber body to a halt on the bench in front of the dining table.

"At least you're better at cooking than flirting," Zoro grunted, following more sedately behind Usopp, who'd charged in just behind Luffy. "Hopefully the sauce is decent enough so I can drown the meat."

"That 'sauce' is called a puree, you uncultured swine," Sanji bit back. "A mushroom puree that is, frankly, too good for your shit palate to appreciate."

Usopp's stomach flipped, and he glanced up at the cook as he set out everyone's plates. A curled eyebrow quirked.

"What?" Sanji asked shortly. He rolled his eye. "What kinda hack do you take me for? Yours is tomato-based."

"It's good," Usopp whispered between fond sniffles. He picked out another mouthful. "The very best."

His gagging aversion- still intact, apparently, despite a second youth spent not ingesting any form of fungi- revolted. He quashed it with a valiant effort. The sniper had faced far worse things, and his respect for Sanji far outweighed an old, if formative, fear of getting sick.

Usopp cleaned his plate.

As both the proprietor and the head chef of his own restaurant, Zeff knew well how to multitask by necessity. On any given day; he had to manage (corral) the bums and crooks who staffed the place; keep his ears open for potential waiters who weren't lily-livered; make at least one appearance in the dining area; bodily eject anywhere from one to fifteen customers (the record would have been thirty, but Sanji had been outside on his smoke break, and it didn't count if they never crossed the entrance threshold.) To say nothing of his own duties in the kitchen.

On top of all those responsibilities, he had the thankless task of raising and mentoring the foul mouthed eggplant he had for his sous chef. An eggplant who couldn't take a damn hint to save his life.

Master of multitasking that he was, Zeff knew that a customer stepped into the kitchen before anyone else. Unfamiliar footfalls were a stark contrast against the typical bustle and shit-shooting that comprised the kitchen's background noise.

"What the hell are you doing back here?"

His sous chef noticed second and stepped in before the wayward diner got too far. Save a quick glance- yep, the Pinocchio sniper kid- Zeff kept his attention on the four burners he had going simultaneously and barked at the idiots to keep working.

"I just wanted to return these," Usopp said. (Zeff knew all the small crew's names. No introductions necessary, not when the straw hat brat's voice carried the way it did.) "And, for future reference, I don't eat mushrooms."

Zeff transferred finely grilled salmon and a filet onto separate plates.

'Interesting comment.'

"'Future reference'?"

Apparently the eggplant agreed.

"I said what I said." Usopp replied, a little cheekily.

Zeff's mustache twitched, hiding a smirk. He pictured Sanji's frustrated, confused scowl.

"You obviously ate those mushrooms." Sanji said, deviating from his initial question.

"Didn't have a choice this time," Usopp said as though it was obvious. "I know better than to offend a chef at sea. And it's a sin to waste food."

'Chef, not cook, huh?'

Zeff's smirk grew wider. The long nose just scored himself and his crew mates serious favor. His eggplant had to go with them. Zeff could hear real appreciation for good food when he heard it.

"Far as I know," Usopp continued blithely when Sanji gave no retort. "There aren't any fish that are partial to fungi either."

Zeff flipped a fluffy omelette onto another plate, followed by a hot curry over steam rice. He flicked the burners off and ran a damp towel over the stove, cleaning it before the next orders came in.

Sanji sighed, almost wearily.

"Future reference?" He asked again.

Usopp didn't deflect a second time. With his hands momentarily free, Zeff caught the sniper shrugging with a small grin.

"Figured our new cook would wanna know that kind of detail."

Zeff could hear Sanji's hackles rising, and he cut in before the barked denials started again.

"Sanji! Get your thumbs out of your ass and get these out to table eight!"

His sous chef glowered, spun on his heel and muttered a couple choice curses under his breath. He loaded the meals Zeff put together on a cart.

"While you're out there, take that kid's offer and ship off!"

"Screw you, shitty geezer!" Sanji shouted back without stopping.

Zeff huffed. Still stubborn and thick headed.

'How am I supposed to be any clearer?'

He turned on Usopp.

"I'm not paying you," he said gruffly. "If you don't have business in here, buzz off."

The kid, who carried himself very unlike a kid, gave a mock salute and didn't balk a bit at Zeff's rough manner and dismissal.

"We'll take care of him." He said on his way out.

Zeff blinked at the swinging door. He snorted.

Most of his cooks, Patty and Carne especially, had a pool going for when and whether Sanji would succeed in taking over the restaurant or have his 'ungrateful ass thrown overboard.'

Trust a stranger who met them both yesterday to see things more clearly than his own staff.

'Idiots.'

Still, Zeff could tell Usopp wasn't quite the same as his companions. The former captain had seen enough in his year-long search, and got enough business from the odd veteran of Paradise, to know the difference.

Zeff may not have been qualified to bring up a brat, but he knew about mettle. On the Grand Line, with insanity and shitty luck for fucking neighbors, a backbone counted for a hell of a lot more than anything else.

That said, a smart girl like that redhead navigator would only be a major boon to the lot of them. And while the swordsman, Zoro, clearly thought as much of Sanji's flirtatious antics as Zeff himself, his keen senses and awareness did him credit. Sanji might need someone to butt heads with anyway. Plus, Zoro seemed well-suited for the position as the straw hat brat's right hand. The brat himself, rubber or not, had an iron in him that wouldn't crack. His crew weren't wanting in it either.

(So Zeff surreptitiously vetted those who wanted his eggplant. As a pirate captain on the Grand Line, you either had an innate intuition or you picked up the skill to judge impressions quickly. Those with neither weren't worth a whole lot. It was just practical to use that intuition. He had a vested interest in Sanji. He wasn't about to send him off with a bunch of losers without any spine. Zeff wasn't a sap.)

Usopp, though. The sniper's shoulders had a certain set to them. By comparison, Zoro's posture spoke of easy confidence, something strong that had been built, if not yet truly tested. Usopp's denoted experience- That unique blend of 'at-ease' and 'fully ready for any possible encounter.' Zeff had seen it many times in those who visited East Blue to take a break from Paradise.

The head chef shook his head, grumbling over his lapse in action. He couldn't stand around gathering dust and cobwebs while he was on shift.

Sanji, his obnoxious and rude little eggplant, who could still taste subtle flavors after smoking for years, who emulated his fighting style, who shared his dream- Zeff would see him off with that ragtag bunch of brats if it cost him his other leg.

Nami stared at the three-piece, collapsible baton Usopp had offered her.

"What did you say you called this?" She asked, fiddling with a couple configurations of the sky blue parts.

"The Climate Baton, or Climatact," Usopp said, adding a sheet of instructions to the offering. "It's a weapon that I've been working on."

Nami cast a skeptical glance at the sniper. He's spent six days working on a collapsible staff?

"Spend some time experimenting. Get comfortable with it before going into actual combat," Usopp said, oblivious to her uncertain look as he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. "Oh, and uh, make sure you do it outside."

Piece evidently said, he turned toward the stairs leading out of her room.

"Why would I have to fight?" She asked. She didn't even bother adding a sweet inflection or a flirtatious lilt to her voice- not as confused as she was.

And she was confused. Even when she'd infiltrated other pirate crews, she'd only ever gained temporary 'trust' (read: interest of the unsavory kind) from a few, and then only so that she could exploit it. Zoro followed Luffy's lead, and Usopp was apparently as bad as Luffy with handing out overt, staggering trust and faith.

'Why do you care enough, why put enough stock in my staying, to make me a better weapon?' She wanted to ask.

She didn't.

"Because we're going to the Grand Line," he said. "And that means the 'human beings'," he gestured to the both of them. "You and me? We need every edge we can get to keep up with Luffy and Zoro."

Nami, eyes half-lidded, titled her head into one hand, expression vaguely amused.

"I wouldn't exactly call you normal." She said.

Usopp's mouth opened, almost mechanically, but no sound came out.

"I'm… not sure how I feel about that." He said, bemused.

A sudden commotion from the restaurant cut any other dialogue short. Nami took her time following Usopp onto the deck. They watched a half-eaten galleon, looking eerily empty, come to a groaning halt near the Baratie.

She didn't follow Usopp down the gangplank.

'It's time.' She thought, again quashing another pang of disquiet that their time together would be- was over.

She shook her head, turning her attention to getting the idiot bounty hunter pair off the ship.