A. The Deep End
It's about damn time she found a bar. Cara knew there had to be one around somewhere; it was just a matter of finding it. Never mind she hadn't been looking for it when she stumbled across The Deep End, but she wasn't about to turn away now. She could use a drink. Cara paused in the doorway, taking in the scene, before heading for the bar itself.

It's an odd enough thing even being here and she's definitely ready for a drink.

Or three. Or seven. Whatever it took.

Cara ordered a drink and took up a spot as conspicuous as possible, raising her glass to anyone who might turn in her direction. This is her, looking for distraction.

B. The Hangar
Cara stood in front of one of the ships, hands on her hips and face contorted into an expression of plain disgust. None of the ships were anywhere close to space-worthy. They'd take weeks - if not months - of repair from actual professionals.

Instead, there's Cara and she was better at destruction than repair.

Heaving a sigh, she approached the nearest ship and did nothing but poke at one of the access panels. "Okay, no," she says, abruptly straightening, "I'm not doing this.