His gaze is sharp, searching.

"Have you dealt with them often?" There are few things Gavin abhors when it comes to criminal activity; these kinda guys were some of the worst. That peggie vela in her youth had experience with them was concerning. "They won't touch a Rocket."

Young as she was, brash and arrogant, she was still one of them, now — for better or worse. They protected their own.

He offers no reprimand for her anger, nor the harshness of her tone or the way she stalks off without warning. He follows in her wake, a cutting gaze daring any of the men to get too close. They don't, and soon Gavin and Plank are alone but for their living cargo.

Her arrogant dismissal is met by the dissatisfied purse of Gavin's lips. "They could and would, were you unaffiliated and alone."

You didn't make it a decade in Rocket without hearing the stories. They'd protected their own far less, back then; his lip curls as Plank recounts her own father using her as bait for illicit dealings. Whether or not the elder Vela had no intention of following those promises, the implication of their use made his skin crawl.

He thinks of Lulu Flint, and of their father who'd have done the same.

"Rocket can make other promises. There's no need to gamble our own." There's a cold edge to his tone. "Always sail with a crew, however small. Our contacts may not risk offending us, but they aren't the only ones scouring the docks."

The ship departs with as little fanfare as it had arrived.