Myitt sighs and stares hard at the bottle of booze. "Okay, let's go talk to her, if she's still here," she says. "Come on. Just don't pretend we're best friends over it, okay?" She smirks and hops off the bar seat, walking toward the door. Once outside, she stops short.
<Well, that was easy,> she muses, walking a few short steps over the gravel to where Elayne sat, Parker and Hunter standing by her. She glances out over the shipyard, wondering which of the hulking shapes hidden behind the wreckage was Elayne's.
"Hi," she says sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I, uh, I'm sorry about overreacting in there. I'm just in a sort of tough spot right now, in this war, and I don't think I could bear knowing that all this work, all this death, was for a lost cause." She pauses for a moment, kicking lightly at the gravel. "We were just wondering what kind of ship you had." Myitt grins a bit. "Still a mechanic, deep down, although it would be pretty telling, when you were from and all that."