Rough and calloused hands tilted the chin of the strange woman's face. A clean face- few real scars and no wrinkles, nor weathering, nor radiation. Big eyes and glossy hair, she noticed; the girl was healthy, young, frightened. Prettier than any mermaid, but half drowned and spitting out sea like any mortal man. Poor thing was soaked and gasping and writhing and nearly choking and, god she looked exhausted. Exhausted and something between afraid and relieved. Vault dweller? Witch? Whichever it was, she wasn't from around here; that much was damn sure. Pensacola Bay so seldom coughed up such an unusual gift, and while pirates were only a step off from raiders, Jessica was too curious, and maybe too maternal, to claim her prisoner. Her own worn face softened: she was never one to look gift sharks in the mouth after all.
The old captain took her tattooed fingers from the girl tangled in her boat's net. A firm flick of her hand at the other 14 women of the trawler's crew set to freeing her; some lowering the trawler net to the deck, others untangling or untieing the ropes, one even fetching water, and another a blanket. Jess alone was quiet and still, eyes on her face and laser musket held like the staff of Moses... only after the dear wretch was free, blanketed, and on her feet did Red Handed Jessica finally speak.