Job 1: Into the Black (IC)

Date: January 1, 3200
Location: Genoa system, automated orbital refueling station.
Ship Function: Nominal
Bank Account: Critical

Your ship's computer pings to let your know the refueling process has finished. The spike drill from the Khocheni system took nearly a week, and you've been cooped up in your new ship the whole time. You recall the salesman on Khocheni who sold you the vessel: greasy black hair, shiny black suit, freshly polished wing tip shoes. Virtually everything about him gleamed, right down to the holographic business cards he insisted each of you take (Eddy Farber- Ad Astra Associates, it read). The ship was anything but shiny. "Fresh off the factory line!" claimed Eddy, "Affordable and dependable for the aspiring interstellar merchant!" Utilitarian was a good word for it. Sturdy thermal plating for atmospheric reentries. Fuel scoops for long distance exploration. Mass market artillery to fend off pirates. Most of the interior was cargo space. The loan will cost you all the a small fortune and the ship boasts little in luxury features, which made the six day voyage to Genoa all the more mind-numbing.

The Exchange Extranet buzzes with comm traffic. The local news is full of human-interest stories about the turn of the century. Advertisements encourage you to celebrate this exciting occasion with a new grav-car, or perhaps a boarding shotgun. Below that are the typical stories: War on Ibeen rages on. Johar-Spiros Incorporated scatters a labor union on Genoa. Piracy in Gatayeva. Unrest throughout the Black, but at least the job boards show high demand for interstellar transports like yours.

With a loan for just short of a million credits to pay off, you happily accepted the lucrative job Eddy offered you. Discretion was of the utmost importance, as is often the way with freelance work. Your patron is one Isaak Teke, a magnate in the employ of the Cornacopia Corporation. Despite being wealthier than Midas and having access to the most advanced medical technology in the Cradle, Mr. Teke is confined to a grav-chair. His incurable paralytic condition has robbed from him his speech, but his caregiver VI explains that Mr. Teke is exploring medical options otherwise unavailable in the Cradle. An independent lab, Thalamus Biomedical Industries, was contracted to develop a neuromuscular modulator that would allow the magnate to regain most of his independent functions. Needless to say, such an advanced device utilizes cloning technology proscribed by the Church of Divine Sacrament. Though the modulator was apparently completed and paid for, the lab is withholding the product for unknown reasons. Being that this was a significant investment for Mr. Teke, he has asked you to gently remind the head researcher, Dr. Haydee Ojeda, of her obligations and return the modulator to him. He has offered you a sum of 35,000 credits to complete this task.

The automatic refueling clamp disconnects, and your ship drifts lazily into the black of space. You direct it along the landing vector towards Monteria, the capital city.


OOC: I'd like everyone to give me a brief IC blurb about what they're doing on the ship before we make planetfall. If you would like to renegotiate the contract, I'll have you roll in the OOC thread.

The dusky gloom of the under deck was suddenly lit by a bight blue flash, swiftly followed by a series of sharp curses. Two specially padded, but scuffed brown boots were sticking out from a squat square piece of humming machinery roughly the size of two grav-cars lumped on top of each other. In the cramped space beneath this, Roz was trying to shake the numbness from her left hand while frowning up at the jumbled mass of cables and circuits above her. As designed this compression conginator would have been a relatively easy piece of machinery to maintain and repair. Twenty years ago anyway. Its previous owners either didn't have the time, or ability to fix it properly and so they had bodged. And then bodged again. And then when they couldn't even find a blind deaf and dumb mechanic with legs for hands, they had resorted to lighting it on fire and smacking it a few times with a spanner.
Roz grinned to herself, ignoring the oil dripping on her forehead and slowly making its way between her eyes and along her cheeks, and reached up to yank a thick clump of wire free from the centre of the console. There was no reaction from the machine which continued to hum along to itself. Just like she thought, completely extraneous. Now for that odd looking circular cog sparking and spinning just within reach of her fingertips. What exactly was it meant to be doing?

A little while later, the knees outside the machinery bent upwards, and Roz slid herself out from underneath and absently sucking a shallow cut on her left thumb, moved over to where her dataslab was plugged into the console. The conginator was now operating at 65%. Not ideal of course but it would do for now.

"Not bad for a hunk o'junk." She smiled as she gave the console an affectionate slap with her right hand, before disconnecting her dataslab and sliding it into the jacket of her brown leather jacket. Despite the age and obvious disrepair of some sections of her ship, she was still inordinately pleased with it. To be strictly true it wasn't completely hers of course, but she had a quarter stake in all that she was currently standing in. A quarter stake in its debt too, but she wasn't going to let that bother her at the present. For the first time since taking to space four years ago, she wasn't simply a deck hand. She was part captain. Grinning around wolfishly at the grimy dark under deck, she called out
"And don't you forget it!"

Hefting the tool laden backpack over her shoulders, she made her way over to the metal stepladder and started to climb up it hand over hand until she was able to pull herself over the lip of the open hatchway and stand back up on the main deck. Running a greasy hand through her dark red hair she stared up and down the empty corridor. She hadn't seen much of her new companions since they had started this journey. Excited beyond measure to finally have a ship she could call her own, she had spent most of the past week exploring and examining every inch of it that she could reach, ascending from the lower decks only for food and sleep, and even that she hadn't managed sometimes. For the first time she wondered what they might have been up to. She didn't have a lot of data to go on really, only meeting the three shortly before they struck their pact on the ship. It was probably time to renew acquaintances, as they would be making planet fall soon. They should probably make a plan or something for how they were going to recover this modulator. Idly she wondered if her new companions would let her take it apart. It could be useful to know how it worked....

Still smiling she made her way over to the mess, one of the main communal areas of the ship. Sliding the door back, she popped her head through.
"Ahoy ahoy. Anything silva in here?"

Anastasia sat at an observation window with a drink in hand to celebrate the new year and her companions new endeavour, she found the void fascinating and loved to look upon the stars and let her mind drift. Despite the poor condition of their ship and the large amount of money she now owed she was happy and content. A little bored yes, but this opportunity suited her just fine as it didn’t pay to stay in one place to long in her line of work. People often got annoyed when dead bodies turn up.

That thought brought a smile to her full lips she’d painted ruby red. Wilson had had it coming, a bastard of a loan shark who bullied, threatened and beat the poor who owed him money. She’d taken a small payment for the job, there had been a whip around to gather her fee amongst the locals and she had returned half of it. She was in her line of work because she loved the thrill of it, literally sticking it to the gangs, pirates, thugs, corrupt officials who over stepped their boundaries. While killing Wilson was well worth it, it had sure kicked up a shit storm. How was she to know he was the son of some drug baron. Yes, it was good to be amongst the stars and travelling away from that.

She brought her glass to her lips and tipped it back, but it was empty. Frowning she tore her eyes away from the window and looked about the communal space; no one was about to bring her a drink. She uncurled herself from her blanket and seat and placed her bare feet on the floor on the cold metal floor. Padding over to a dispenser she poured herself another drink. Anastasia wore the clothing of her people, baggy and colourful with her hair tied up underneath a silken scarf. It wasn’t particularly practical for space travel, but it was comfortable. People might mistake her for a rustic fortune teller. Not an assassin, a swordswomen, a righter of wrongs.

Back in her seat she pulled her blanket around her shoulders which was more for comfort and snugness than it being particularly cold. She was about to turn back to the view port when the slide door opened. “Happy new year” Ana greeted Roz with a warm smile and she held up her drink in salute. “Come join me, it’s lonesome up here and I’m bored.” Ana was ‘muscle’ and she had little to do aboard the ship.

Roz's face lit up when she saw the other woman.
"Anastasia! You look just like a picture, sitting over there by the window."

Smiling back she moved fully into the room.
"Shattered rubies though, New Year!? I must have lost track of time."

In truth she had been deliberately avoiding the holiday. Thinking on it recalled too many memories of celebrations long past with her family. Tilting her head down, she swung the heavy bag over her shoulder and set it down against one of the walls. The smile had returned by the time she had straightened up.
"More than happy to join ya in a celebratory drink."

Collecting a glass for herself, Roz plopped herself down in a seat opposite the other woman. Her young face was a little pink, underneath a liberal splattering of oil and her blue eyes were bright and interested. Goggles were propped above her forehead and dark red hair spilled out around it, and down to the nape of her neck.
Holding out her glass to clink it with Anastasia's, she grinned.
"Sparkle! To the New Year; may it bring loads of interesting work, paying off our debt in a knats blink and plenty of opportunity to get up to badness!"
Depending on what Ana does, she keeps the glass out for a few moments, before taking an experimentary glug. Her eyes were still on the other woman though, and after a moment she raised an eyebrow at her, an amused look on her face.

"Did we ever properly introduce ourselves back before we all became co-captains? 'Pollogies if I'm repeating myself but in all the excitement I'm not totally sure. As you know, I'm Roz. As you can probably guess I'm mostly a mechanic by trade, but I'm also a decent enough physician. Fairly lousy shot and an even worse cook but if its broken I'm fairly sure I can fix it."

While most of her words had been delivered in good humour and spirit, there was an assured confidence in her last few words which either spoke of her skill, or her age.

Henrietta sighs as she sips her hot tea. She had been in the room the whole time and niether Anastasia nor Roz had noticed her. I was ok, sometimes she enjoyed the fact that she was always blending into the background.

She stands, wincing at the pain in her back. The sound would certainly let the other two know she was there.

"Happy new year" she says as she approaches and sits at the same table.

Roz twisted her head around at the sound and noticed the approaching figure. She looked momentarily surprised, before grinning broadly and raising her glass.
"Sparkle Henrietta! Soz, but I didn't notice you sitting over there. How's it going?"

She gave a look beyond Henrietta over the rest of the room, before looking back at the two other women.
"Seems like most of us have all gathered here now. Just missing Danzig"

The merchant ship punches through Genoa's atmosphere with more than a little turbulence, coming to a land in the city of Monteria's primary space port. Hissing, the boarding ramp opens to the smell of scorched pavement and acid rain. Your landing area is little more than a concrete slab with an automated computer station for registration and arranging repairs. It flashes a repeating advertisement for CornaCola. The sky is overcast, and a light rain drips off your ship’s hull as you file out towards the main terminal, the exhaust from your engines mixing with Genoa’s ever present chemical smog. The experienced spacers among your group may note that the spaceport here is quite large by frontier standards. Bulk transports come and go regularly, feeding Genoa’s foundries and shipping goods off to distant colonies. The terminal looms large and imperial, a testament to the planet’s engineering prowess and enterprising spirit. The smog has coated its exterior in a permanent layer of grime.

You proceed through all the typical security checks into the concourse. In contrast to the soiled exterior areas of the spaceport, the interior is kept meticulously clean, though plastered from top to bottom with advertisements which somewhat diminish the sleek minimalism the original architect probably intended. Clamoring crowds shuffle in and out of transportation gates, eateries, and outlet stores that line the multiple levels of pedestrial walkways. You push your way through towards the exit.

Arriving in a somewhat quieter atrium, you discover an automated tourist information terminal. It currently alternates playing an advertisement for a Sacramentist extranet channel with an advertisement for a strip club. A set of glass doors across from you leads to the exterior and ground transportation, while an escalator down leads to the hyperloop tunnel. A janitor works to scrub graffiti off the glass doors (“...s go home!” is all that is legible anymore). In an open air bar to your left, you notice a man in an expensive suit having a heated discussion with a man in a much shabbier sports coat. Sitting on several benches to your right are three well armed men, all boasting ostentatious cybernetic enhancements. One has had his eyes replaced with a video screen that displays what appears to be a fish tank, one has a row of neuronal ports above each ear connected via cables to various devices on his person, and the last one appears to have had his mouth replaced with something resembling the interior of a garbage disposal plated in gold.

Roz shifted her shoulders slightly, as she examined the atrium with interest. The straps of her heavy bag were cutting into her, but was too curious to pay them much conscious attention. She had visited many different worlds in the last four years, but she still felt that kick of excitment to be standing on a fresh foreign soil. Grinning widely, she nodded her head at the advertising, before glancing at those on either side.

The terminal was of course the most obvious place to glean some information- how exactly they might travel to Thalamus Biomedical Industries and what the local news was. Still though, there was that heated discussion in the bar.....
For a moment she paused, chewing on her lip and watching the two. It was probably nothing- the same pointlessness to be found at a hundred other bars. Still though- she wanted to hear what it was about. Agh shatter, she thought, hopefully they weren't going anywhere soon.
Pushing her goggles high up her forehead to keep the hair from her eyes, she walked over to the terminal to see if she could learn anything from it. At the worst, she might be able to salvage a couple of useful parts from it.

The men continue their argument, paying no mind to the passing travelers, clearly both deeply engaged in their verbal sparring match.

As Roz touches the terminal, the display changes to show a search bar and a map of the local area, as well as several promoted news articles. A few headlines catch your eye: "Survivors of lost vessel rescued after 6 years stranded." - "Kira Gurov, the greatest thinker of our generation?" - "Genoan journalist accused of espionage executed on Ibeen." - "Offworld immigrant kills 3 in gruesome scene." - "How interstellar trade is changing corporate culture."

Querying the system for information on Thalamus Biomedical Industries prompts the terminal to play a brief, but unskippable, advertisement for "The new Mercury Hyperloop Line, brought to you by Johar-Spiros Incoporated. Opens January, connecting Monteria, Cadence, and Larkum for the first time ever in luxury and efficiency. Ride with Mercury today!

The advertisement closes to return to several search results regarding Thalamus Biomedical Industries. Helpfully, the first result is the company's address and a picture of its building. It appears to be located just outside the main urban region of Monteria, perhaps a 30 minute ride by gravcar. The building itself is relatively small, clearly better suited for research and innovation than large scale manufacturing. Constructed largely of glass, the roughly rectangular building is four stories tall with a two story extension off its right side. Just below this information is a link to a news segment from an economic news program titled "Thalamus Biomedical Industries acquired by Gorgon Group as part of expansion strategy." Below that artilce is a link to an interview with Thalamus's Director of Research, Dr. Haydee Ojeda.

The word Ibeen of course stood out to Roz, and she felt the familiar feeling of dread deep inside her stomach. Even when she concentrated purposely on one of the preceding headlines, she could feel the word there throbbing there with malevolence just under her vision.
Furrowing her brow, she began her search on the terminal. As the advertisement started up, she wondered how the rest of the crew would feel about trying out the new Hyperloop. It would be doubtless be expensive- but to get to ride a hyperloop.... She could ask them anyway.

Her left eyebrow raised slightly as she read about the Gorgon takeover. The situation had become a little more complicated. Intimidating, or 'gently reminding' as Eddy had put it, an independent lab would be much more difficult it that lab was now part of a local conglomerate. A conglomerate that perhaps wasn't very fond of the Cornocopia Corp trying to muscle in on the cluster? Not that she could blame them particularly for that, Corno slags. Unconsciously biting down on her lower lip, she clicked on the link with Dr Haydee. It was probably mostly slough but something interesting might slip through, and at least she'd get to see what the good doctor looked like. After this she planned to quickly peruse the articles on Kira, interstellar trade and then out of pure nosiness, the gruesome murder story. Better to out armed with a little of the local colour.

Henrietta shambles forward, to just behind Roz.

"Have you found us any work dearie?

Dr. Haydee Ojeda- The video on Dr. Ojeda is an interview by a local news station from approximately three years ago. Hadyee Ojeda is a tan woman who appears to be in her early 50s at the time of filming. Her hair is worn in somewhat sloppy braids and she wears a crisp white labcoat. In the short interview, Dr. Ojeda discusses her personal journey, studying neuroscience at the prestigious Cadence Institute of Medicine and building Thalamus Biomedical Industries almost single handedly. Already the company has made some promising advances in the field of neuroregenerative medicine, notably in the treatment of chronic nerve pain. Dr. Haydee discusses her philosophy, “This is an issue I care very deeply about. My brother passed away when he was quite young from a neurodegenerative process, and I’ve seen firsthand that our understanding of neuroregenerative medicine lags far beyond other fields. I think this is in part largely due to outdated and frankly puritanical notions regarding cloning technology. Thankfully Genoa is quite progressive in this regard and we’ve seen fantastic results so far. It’s really my dream to be able to see patients walk again without the use of cybernetic assistive devices, and I think we might be able to see that in the near future.”

Kira Gurov- The article opens with a picture of Kira Gurov, CEO of the Gorgon Group. Artfully taken in black and white, the picture shows Gurov looking directly into the camera, wearing thick rimmed glasses and holding her chin as if contemplating something truly profound. The article lauds Gurov’s business and marketing “genius” in reviving the Gorgon Group from the brink of collapse. Under her direction, Gorgon Group has made investments in media and healthcare, rebranding itself as “a corp that cares about you!” The author also notes the “brilliance” of Kira’s bombastic speeches, overwhelming rival corporations with accusations and rhetoric, allowing the Gorgon Group to capitalize on the chaos. Gurov has expressed willingness to use her corporate security forces proactively, and though the need has not arisen yet, the author speculates that the true test of her leadership will be when her rivals begin to target this upstart CEO in a more direct fashion.

Interstellar trade- This think-piece considers the ramifications of expanding interstellar commerce on Genoa’s economy. While new planets mean new markets, corps without the ability to manufacture high quality spike drives will quickly be integrated larger corps. A good chunk of the article is xenophobic fearmongering, such as how the Chuch of Divine Sacrament will hinder the advances in cloning and AI research, how the butcher gangs from Khocheni bring a new breed of crime to the planet, how the Sokolov Union seeks to fasciliate the formation of labor unions, etc. The bottom line of the article is that it is the duty of megacorps to promote the proper enterprising spirit wherever they expand their markets.

Murders- A news real shows a smashed bodega with blood splattered on the walls and floor. According to reports, this was an act of random violence that occured when a heavily augmented offworlder apparently went berserk and attacked bystanders with an “implanted cutting device.” Police were able to end the rampage quickly, killing the attacker. While officials note that there are few details at this time, the reporter on scene notes that immigrants from Khocheni frequently have butcher gang connections.

Leaning on the terminal with both arms bent at the elbow, Roz watched the video with careful attention. She had been hoping for something a little more recent, perhaps reacting to the sale itself and a new direction for the company. As it finished she chewed again on her bottom lip, her eyes lost in thought. Maybe she was just overthinking things and it was nothing more than a natural delay. There was nothing in what the doctor had said which would suggest she wouldn't be interested in helping someone, perhaps akin to her brother, especially when they paid well. Might be worth pushing the familial angle, she mused.

She skimmed over the other articles quickly, only pausing at the mention of the corporate security forces and noting the rising racial tensions. Genoa might be one of the shiniest rocks in the cluster but one where they would have to step carefully. She was considering this, when the voice over her shoulder sounded. Twisting her head to look at Henrietta, she gave the other a mischievous smile.
"Just getting my scandal on with this planets smoothest and well rounded. One or two tidbits, but most important probably, is that we need to head towards Monteria to find this Thalamus place."

She nodded her head towards the glass doors.
"'Parently its either a 30 minute grav car ride, or probably something shorter via the hyperloop. Or...." Her blue eyes flicked back over to where the two men were continuing their argument,
".... we could grab a drink, soak up some local flavour and discuss tactics before heading in?"
Looking back at the other woman, she cocked her head a little to one side and smiled.

Ana clinks her glass against Roz's and then almost jumps out of her skin when Henrietta makes her presence known. Such a thing wouldn't normally startle Ana so much, but the ship was a safe place, their own. There were no 'daggers in the dark' here. She felt relaxed and spent the next enjoyable moments getting to know her new companions.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When Anastasia stepped off the ships ramp she cut a different figure to the one who had spent so much time in what would become her favourite view port on their new ship. Gone were her brightly coloured baggy clothes and in there stead she wore tight black woven body armour, a sword and knife hung from a belt around her wide hips. She looked serious and while not as heavily muscled as male fighters she cut an athletic figure. She stood relaxed, with one hand on the pommel of her mono-blade as Roz checked out the Terminal.

She’d spent a little bit of time watching the arguing men when Roz spoke.

“Hyperloop? That would be interesting although seems wasteful on our pockets with it still being such a short journey. We in a rush?”

Ana waves a way any reply “A drink sounds like an excellent idea though.”

As Ana observes the two men in the bar, she is able to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. The man in the expensive suit is a bit younger and more well groomed than the man in the shabby sports coat, but they both carry themselves with similar body language and seem to be speaking to each other as equals. At one point the argument gets loud enough for Ana to listen into a fair portion of it.

"...your man, your responsibility! I simply can't comprehend how a breech of this magnitude occurred!" says the man in the fine suit.

"Listen, I've known Yuri for years and he's been solid. There was no way to tell he would cut and run, especially since the job was need-to-know only." Growls the older man. "Which by the way, I've got a lot of questions about now. First being 'are you out of your god damn mind?' What was that thing even..." The rest is said in a hushed voice that Ana can't make out.

The younger man responds in a similarly inaudible tone, then takes a long sip from his drink and sets it down with a frustrated sigh. He continues, rubbing his temples "I have no idea how it got out of the clean room. None of the techs had access to the security codes, but somehow the doors were opened. We have theories, but unfortunately we can't ask any of the striking workers about it now can we?"

"Hey its like you said, can't be having any leaks. I'll clean up the Yuri situation for you, don't worry. Just posted the bounty and made I it juicy. But you better watch your step, you know what they say about stuff like that."

"Edoardo, I never took you for a Neo-Catholic." the young man says with a sneer.

"Ah fuck off. I'm just saying there's a reason Sacramentists have got a stick up their asses about it.

The tension partially diffused, the two men continue their conversation in quieter tones.

"WAHHHHHHHHOOOOO! Ladies, ladies, ladies! Fix me a drink baby, I'm home! This is home, right?"

Danzig, or "Ziggy" as his newfound companions had been made all-too aware upon their initial meeting (and after perpetual reminders) swaggered into the mess hall of the ship, arms spread wide like a king addressing an adoring audience and a broad grin painted across his bearded face.

Flipping his well-worn leather flight jacket over the back of a chair and turning it around he sat with his legs spread-eagled, laces trailing over his combat boots and arms folded across the top of the seat.

"Hey Rose, and...errrm...yeah...where's that other, errr...whatshername?" He looks about, eyes beaming, and sweeps a hand through his hair before scratching at his beard. He almost couldn't believe his luck; three females and no competition in sight, things were looking up already!

"Hey now, I'll join y'all in a toast, just let me grab my..." Danzig is interrupted by the sound of the ships klaxon, alerting crew to initiation of the automated pre-landing sequence and imminent planet-fall.

"Well, blow me, I was about to rustle up some bacon and eggs but looks like we're setting down already! Say, who's this chick we're meant to be meeting again?"

[Back on the ship]
Roz giggled, rocking back on her chair and pulling her knee's up to her chest as she watched Ziggy swagger into the room.
"Ha ha, woah Zigs- that's quite an entrance and no mistake. No moss growing on you eh?"
She was halfway through raising her glass when the reverberating sound of the klaxon echoed and she pulled a face, before downing the rest of her liquid and getting to her feet.
"Looks like its go time. She's a scientist as far as I can gather, Dr Ojeda"

[Back at the terminal]
Roz was about to reply to Ana, when she noticed the other was obviously listening into the conversation of the two at the bar. Praise be, she thought, the other woman must have keen ears. From this distance all she could pick up was an agitated mumble, and that told her nothing that her eyes had already recognised, that they were having an argument. She took the moment to reappraise Ana's appearance again. There were definitely levels to her. Back on the ship she could have easily mistaken her as a relaxed mystic, while here she was every bit the hardened warrior. Eyeing the blade with interest, she idly wondered if the other might give her lessons on how to wield a blade. There had been no great change in her own appearance, save cleaning most of the oil and grime from her face. She was wearing the same black armoured undersuit, thick brown boots and matching leather jacket, goggled propped midway along her hairline, leaving the dark red hair to fall either side of her face.

Waiting till the agitation had lessened between the two men, she gave Ana, and then Henrietta and Ziggy a bright grin and waggled her eyebrows.
"A drink sounds like a fine plan then."
Leading the way she strolled into the bar making her way to wherever it looked like they were serving drinks. She was keen to share what she had learnt, but even more interested to discover whatever Ana had picked up.

As you approach the bar you notice that rather than a bartender, there appear to be several automated dispensers where travelers can order and receive their beverages. There is still a man behind the counter (he wears a respiratory filter over his mouth and nose), but he seems to be more of a custodian than anything else.

The sitting area seems fairly empty: a few lonely drinkers at the bar, a middle-aged couple headed out for vacation, and of course the two arguing gentlemen who sit at a long high table that faces outward towards to atrium.

Henrietta follows Roz into the bar. She sits at the bar, but doesnt feel like alcohol, she never drank anymore, not in several years at least.
"Just water please" she orders in her usual, polite tone, not realizing it made no difference to a server bot.

The dispenser whirs menacingly, producing a glass from somewhere deep within its machinery and setting it beneath a nozzle, which lets forth a torrent of ice cubes. The nozzle then sputters several times before spewing forth a highly pressurized stream of water forcefully into the awaiting vessel. When the cup is filled, the dispenser chimes brightly and a mechanical arm sets the glass somewhat roughly on the bar, spilling a bit.

[Back on the ship]
Ziggy grins at Roz. "You know it! I'm locked, loaded and ready to go baby! You fix 'em up and I'll fly 'em!!" He spins on his heels before plunking down on the chair.
"Scientist huh? Must be some kinda...err...yeah, like high-up chiquita then."

[At the terminal]
Grinning as Roz wiggles her eyebrows, Ziggy almost trips over his own feet in his eagerness.
"Mmm-hmm! You read my mind Rosie. Let's go down a couple before we grab this babe."

Ziggy pauses a moment, taking Ana in with an admiring gaze and wolf-whistling loudly enough to be heard over the background noise; a few passers-by turn to look in surprised amusement and a burly man dressed in grimy fatigues and a baseball cap chuckles as he walks past the group.

"Weeeoooo! Damn sister, you remind me of this go-go dancer I stayed with on Epsilon 4, she was into the whole cat-suit thing just without, y'know, the slice 'n dice bit..." He gulps and turns to follow Roz into the bar, overtaking her in nearly two clean strides.

"First rounds mine baby, what's your poison?"

Roz shifted her shoulders in an amused shrug back at Ziggy. Typical fly boy, she thought, always wanting to do everything at light speed.
"Well maybe a little less grab, more sit down and have a friendly conversation with. We are a 'pectable delivery service after all."

She arrived up to the bar a couple of moments after the pilot and then watched with interest, her head cocked to one side, as the dispenser created Henrietta's drink. This was the first bar she'd ever been at that had machines quite like this. In fairness though, her usual haunts tended to be, as a former crew member had put it, scummy scraggy pits in the arse end of nowhere.
"Seam..." she wondered aloud as she started slowly taking the machine apart in her mind, before her reverie was broken by Ziggy's question.

Popping back up to her feet, she grinned at him before turning to look at the dispenser.
"Could I get a beer? 'Haps something local if you have it?"
While waiting on her drink, she took off her bag and propped it by the chair next to Henrietta which she then perched herself on, her eyes now scanning the rest of the bar patrons.

The dispenser hums for a moment, its simple VI processing Roz's request. After making its determination, the machine again produces a glass, this time filling it with a frothy amber brew before sloppily serving the beverage. This time the man behind the counter notices the mechanical arms imprecision and swears under his breath. Sorry 'bout that ma'am, been trying to fix that all day. Calibration's off or something."

The drink itself is passable; bitter, with notes of something berry-like. Slightly better than what you'd find at an autobar in a orbital refueling platform.

The young man in the fine suit checks his compad, finishes his drink, and then stands and begins walking in the direction of the landing pads. The older man also gets up, but heads towards the bar. As he types his order into another one of the dispensers, you're all able to get a better look at him. His hair is shaggy and mostly gray, his beard is in a similar condition. He wears a well worn brown sports coat with elbow pads and a pair of corduroy dress pants in a slightly different shade of brown. His dress shirt appears to have a tropical-floral pattern on it.

OOC:

As he waits for his drink, he looks over at Henrietta. "Kids these days..." he laments vaguely, shaking his head.

Ana looks down at herself at Ziggy's comment, a go-go dancer, really? It was not a compliment as far as she was concerned. Sniffing with put-on imperiousness she moves past Ziggy and into the bar. She knew their only male ship mate probably had meant his comments in a good way which is why he didn't get a slap. Once in the bar and Ziggy offered to buy a round the issue was already behind her.

"Mines a rum. Dark. Spiced. Or whatever they have close to that."

Once she had a drink in hand she turns and puts her back to the bar, one elbow resting on its top. The other gently swilling her drink around.

She considers the older man in the tropical patterned shirt before leaning in to which ever companions were closest. "There might be some additional work there." she nods her her to the man she had been sizing up "Seems something has gone missing."

"Comin' right up!"

Ziggy speaks loudly into the dispenser, "Ah, yeah, lemme have two of your house beers and a rum, straight up baby", confusion temporarily marring his features before he realises it is manually activated. Grinning, he then begins to enthusiastically punch buttons on the item select panel.

Standing by as the machine whirrs into life, he watches as it blurts out the frothy beverages.
"Damn, this one's having a few problems, err...evac..ejec...yeah, it can't shoot straight!"

Ziggy is paying little attention to the men sat at the bar as he hands Roz and Ana their drinks.

He peers into the foamy glass before blowing the froth off and taking a gulp, smacking his lips appreciatively.
"Not bad, not great, but it'll do!"

Raising his glass he offers a toast to Roz and Ana, winking and smiling broadly.
"Well, I'd say this mission is off to a good start!"

Roz raised her glass to clink it against Ziggy's and Ana's if she raises hers as well.
"Sparkle!"
She took a deep draft from the glass before setting it back down on the bar and wiped the foam from her lips with her thumb. Grinning at Ziggy she continued.
"Anyone provide us with a mission to drink a bar dry and I'd say we are rock solid. Doesn't even feel like work."
The drink itself was certainly more tasteful than she had been expecting. You've been too long among the stars, she thought to herself wryly. Then again she couldn't have told you what the local beer tasted like back on Ibeen. The most she'd had was stolen wine from their parents store.

Casting a surreptitious look over at the older man, she then turned back at Ana. She was deathly curious to ask the other woman about what she had overheard, but obviously this wasn't the time to ask. Locking eyes with Ana she nodded before saying under her breath.
"Be worth looking into. Got nothing to lose. Maybe better coming from you or Henrietta than me though."
She grinned.
"I'm going to cause a bit of a distraction now if you think it might make him more vocal."

Turning to the man behind the counter, she gave him a friendly smile and nodded at the machine before continuing in her normal loud tone.
"It does seem like it needs a little bit of adjusting. If you want I'd be happy to have a look at it. I look after everything mechanical on our ship. Even got my tool kit along with me."

The "bartender" looks perplexed for a moment, then gives you a shrug. "If you think you could fix it, be my guest."

Grinning brightly Roz slid down from the bar stool and skipped around the corner of the bar. Facing the rest of the crew now, her eyes were focused in on the machine. Reaching into her hip pocket, she removed her multi-tool, and started swinging it around in a circle in her left hand, almost appearing like a gun slinger. Standing face to face with it, she spent a few moments examining it from the top and then each side before bending down for a moment. If anyone was watching her face now, her prior easy going expression had changed to one that was much more serious, both eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
"Faulty signal... or something jamming it up from inside?" she muttered to herself, as she eyed the machine.

Moving forward suddenly now, she applied her tool to the pack panel and quickly removed it, placing it and its six screws neatly on the table. Plunging her hands deep inside the bowels of the machine, her next movements were hidden from the others. There was the sound of a sharp crackle, but Roz appeared to ignore it, biting down on her bottom lip as she stared over her arms. Reaching out of the machine, she grabbed her multi-tool again and brought it inside. Seconds later it was between her teeth and this time she withdrew a strip of electric tape from another pocket which also ended up inside. There was an impression of cordite in the air. Roz's expression had shifted as well, a smile clearly present despite the bared teeth with her implement in between them. A hand came out to reclaim this and after a minute of hidden movement, she removed a thin metal pole which was cracked and bent in the middle, with a thin cog attached at the end, which she placed on the flat of the bar. Lifting up the original panel, she reattached it, neatly reapplying the screws.

Looking up at the others for the first time, she flashed everyone at the bar a sudden wicked smile and waggled her eyebrows.
"Time to see if I'm as good as I claim I am."
Speaking clearly to the machine she said
"Promothio spirit, single shot. Sparked."

The machine hummed again and then in a quick but decidedly smooth motion it withdrew a shot glass and filled it with a smokey blue liquid, which it then placed with a precise firmness on the bar in front of it. With a sudden swift move, one of its arms appeared to chop across the top of the glass. It was so close it looked like it must have touched but the glass didn't shift in the slightest. A bright green flame burned from the top of it now. The mechanical arm moved back to the machine and it was still again. Grinning broadly at whoever was paying attention, Roz reached out and blew the flame from the glass before downing it immediately.

Turning to the 'bartender' she explained,
"Liquid had got into the electronics and shorted out some of the wiring. Maybe someone dumped their drink over it- the sealant looked a bit dodgy. These models are meant to be able to take something like that. Anyways this then overloaded one of the sprockets and cracked it. It was only ever going to get worse. May have ended up shooting drinks out at customers. Luckily the insides of these are a bit overbuilt so I was able to bypass this sprocket and remove it all together and then adapt the wiring and seal up the insides myself. It should give you no more trouble."

Ana detaches herself from the bar and steps over to the older man.

"Excuse my forwardness, but it will save me time. Its easier to speak directly yeah. I couldn't but over hear you and your friend speak about your troubles. Something has gone astray right?" Ana glances over her shoulder at the others. "We're a small but capable team, we have a ship. Care to talk business?"

She puts her now empty glass on the bar. "Perhaps over a drink" she says looking at her glass meaningfully.

Ziggy stands at the bar watching Roz work, one hand on his hip, the other in possession of his half-full glass.
He downs the rest of his drink and lets out a loud whoop as the dispenser ignites the promethio.

"Way to go baby! I think that calls for another round. Yo, barkeep, that's on the house for fixing your doohickey right?"

With Roz and Ziggy

Most of the bar turns their attention towards to machine as Roz tinkers with it. The bartender looks quite stunned by your quick handiwork. If his mouth wasn't covered with a respirator, you might have seen his jaw drop a bit. Hearing Ziggy's question snaps him back to reality, "Oh, uh, yeah I can promo the drinks for you guys. On the house. Thanks ma'am, I really appreciate your help. I uhh, can't actually pay you though. I mean technically all requests for outside contractors need to be signed off by corporate and then your estimate would need to go through accounting to be approved and its kind of a whole thing. Here, I can give you something though." He reaches for a cocktail napkin and scribbles something down on it before handing it to you. It is the address and contact information for someplace called 'Mugwambi's Metalworks'. "You said you're a mechanic right? This is my cousin's husband's place, deals in all sorts of salvage and used vehicles. If you tell him Ali sent you, he'll hook you up right on parts you need."

++++++++++++++++

With Ana and Henrietta

The old man gives Ana a long look up and down, and glances over her shoulder at the rest of the crew. He gives the slightest of chuckles and leans one elbow on the bar as he turns to face Ana and Henrietta. Without breaking eye contact with her, he presses a button, and two glasses are produced from the serving machine. "You've got some good ears. Your parents never told you its rude to eavesdrop?" He slides the drinks towards the two of you; they're filled with some clear liquor with a fruit peel in it. "But if you're hungry for some action, we might as well have ourselves a talk. The name's Slater."

He shares with you a bounty posting. At the top is the picture of a frankly quite attractive man, with long dark hair, tan skin, intense eyes, and a chiseled jaw. "This guy's name is Yuri Delacroix. Private detective who works for me sometimes as a strike-breaker. He's not just some goon off the street though, he's a specialist. Anyway must have been he saw something he liked while working this last job for me and took off with some expensive tech. Did a good job of hiding his tracks too, no one's seen him since. Jobs simple, assuming you've actually done bounty work before. Dead or alive, 25 grand. We want that stolen tech back though. Well, the eggheads do. I don't care if it takes a few bullets somehow, we'll can that our little secret,"  he says with a wink.

Slater sits back and takes a swig of his drink as he looks at you, inviting questions.

Roz grinned back at him as she took the napkin, folded it and inserted it into a pocket at her waist.
"Ah cracking! Thanks for this Ali, I'm sure it will come in useful at some point. And yeah no worries about payment, I know what its like with all that tape and papers. Sometimes its just easier hand to hand shake. And lil thing like that, I'm not even sure what I'd charge. I'll get out of your way now, before I end up taking everything else apart!"

Half nodding her head at the rest of the bar, she continued.
"Thanks everyone, you've been great. Remember to try the rice cakes!"
She could see that the other two women were sitting talking to the old man. Figuring that they would indicate to them if they wanted them over, and not wishing to spoil whatever negotiation they were up to, she instead moved from behind the bar, to stand next to Ziggy and re lifted her half full drink. She angled herself though, so she could still watch the others. The old man was handing some paper over to the other two, but she couldn't see what was on it.
Glancing back at Ziggy, she winked.
"There's my party piece out of way. Any hidden skills yourself?"

Ana shrugs and smiles at the comment about eaves dropping and graciously takes the glass. While listening she swills the contents, taking in its aroma.

"Yeah, I've done bounty work of a kind." she initially replies before taking a sip. "Two things." she was no haggler but she certainly would try "We'll want 30 grand." she left that bit short. She holds up her glass at Slater before he responds. Ana certainly wasn't going to return some doomsday weapon to nefarious people "I get that this tech might be hush, hush but what is it, broadly say. I'm not about to agree to retrieve some bio-weapon or similar am I?"

At your first request, Slater laughs. You can see him about to tell you to "fuck off," but your second question gives him pause. He takes a minute to contemplate what you asked him, swirling his drink. He takes a sip and leans forward towards the two of you so as not to be overhead. His response is measured, each word carefully chosen. "It's not going to blow up in your face or give you cancer or something, if that's what you're worried about. And it's not a bio-weapon, specifically... but it's the kind of thing that can do just as much damage as one. Can't give you any more than that. That egghead I was talking to would prefer it back in one piece. If it comes back to me shot to shit instead, I'll get you your 30 grand. How's that sound?

Henrietta listens while sipping the dirty water. She preferred hot tea, the water was hardly sippable.

"O' Dear. What ever would they need such a weapon for?" she says to herself.

She knew they were already going to take the job. They were hard up and needed the money, but she missed the days where the jobs was a simple cargo run, or refugee transport. Ever more, they found themselves more and more in the midst of some crazy stuff.

"That's sounds like a deal to me." Ana holds up her glass to Slater and then takes a sip. She was surprised he took her counter offer and she was more than happy to bring it back broken. Whatever it was it didn't sound like a thing that should be in anyone's hands.

She throws Henrietta a smile "exactly, they won't."

"Anything else you can share about this Delacroix? I guess you've looked at the obvious places like place of residence, his office that kinda thing?"

"Sure did, looks like he left his place in a hurry. He's got a girl too, but there's no sign of her either. My guess is he grabbed her and is trying to find a way off world. Yuri is a bit of a high roller at the local gambling halls though. The bounty lists a couple of his favorite haunts: the El Rey, Denis's, the Fifth Ace. Other than that, not much to go on. Drives a blue JSI-brand Gravcar? If he's smart he would have ditched that already. Hey, if we knew any more we wouldn't be looking for contractors. Go earn that 30k, sweetheart." Slater stands and finishes his drink. He takes a business card out of his wallet and sets it on the bar before walking away. "Call me if you've got news."

The card is simple, made of high quality synthetic paper, glossy black with red lettering. Above the contact information it reads: "E. Slater. Bloodhound Inc."

Nitafrong wrote:

Glancing back at Ziggy, she winked.
"There's my party piece out of way. Any hidden skills yourself?"

Pulling another beer from the newly-repaired dispenser, Ziggy raises his glass to Ali and returns to stand beside Roz at the bar.

Smiling and raising an eyebrow at her question, he places his glass on the bar top.

"The Zig-meister is full of surprises baby, check this out out!"

Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulls out a dented silver coin. Tossing it casually from palm to palm, he feigns a quick throwing motion as if to launch it into the air before displaying his open hands and wiggling his fingers in front of Roz; the coin has vanished.
Without waiting for a response he claps his hands together and, with a flourish, produces the coin between a thumb and forefinger.

Grinning at Roz he returns her wink, slipping the silver piece back into a pocket.

Roz's eyes flicked from side to side as she followed the movement of the coin. Her head tilted up when he faked tossing it, before looking down at his empty hands with an exaggerated expression of surprise. When he revealed the coin again, she grinned back at him and clapped her left fingers into her right palm.
"Cracked and seamed Zigs. What light fingers you have. I see I'll have to keep a close eye on you."
Her tone was light and jocular, and as she finished, she looked again over his shoulder, watching as the one of the two arguing men walked away from her other two companions.
"Dust up Zigs, we might have something afoot."

Lifting her drink from the bar, she moved around Ziggy to stand by Henrietta and Ana. Looking up at the two, she nodded her head in the direction of an empty table in a quiet corner.
"Shall we maybe roll over there and do a spot of catchup?"
Taking the lead, she lifted her bag from where it was still propped, and laid it under the table, and then took a seat.

She stands up from the chair,

"If we must." she says as she gets to her feet.

"I hope this will be a quick one. I dont think I like the idea of chasing a baddie who has an itchy trigger finger on a large gun. If you get my meaning."

Ana smiles wickedly at Henrietta "Don't worry sweetie, I'll do the chasing for you."

She nods at Roz's suggestion and heads over to the table. Ana slides into a one of the chairs facing the entrance and gave a good view of the bar. She had her own enemies and even though she didn't expect to find any here she was always careful.

Once everyone is seated Ana goes through the detail "Those guys who were chatting at the bar have a bounty out. 30000 credits for the return of a piece of tech, they think a detective who goes by the name of Yuri Delacroix has it." Ana takes sip of her drink Slater had brought her, it was smooth and slightly sweet. "Slater, the guy who I spoke to seems to think Yuri will be trying to get off-world and get this... Slater seemed happy and actually preferred for this tech to be returned broken."

"I'm game although we have other work too. Watcha think?" she asks those around the table

As the group chatted for a while about which job to focus on, Anastasia thought why not both. “Look, I’ve a contact on this rock who might know stuff about both our marks; Yuri and our good Dr. Haydee Ojeda.” Ana stands and adjusts her scabbarded sword “You’re all welcome to come along, Changying always likes to meet new people. Or I can find you back here. Might take me half a day though.”

It took a little bit of time to find out where Changying Spiros was currently working out of, but the trail eventually led to a large downtown a bar. It was early evening so workers who has just clocked off filled the place, it was smokey and low lit, a chilled synthesised music mingled with the chatter. On the way there Ana had answered a few questions about the contact, her name was Changying Spiros an information broker, she had people all over society and for a price she was sure Changying could help them.

She looks over her shoulder at the others “Who wants a drink?” without waiting for a reply Ana weaves her way through the crowd to the bar. After ordering drinks as required she leans a little closer to one of the servers push a few extra credits their way “I’m looking for Changying Spiros, let her know Anastasia is here.”

The bartender nods and points towards a door in the back wall. "She said she's expecting someone, you can head on back."

You need to push past a few exhausted shift workers and past a bouncer who waives you through when you drop Changying's name. You gather that this entire bar must have been a repurposed office building, with only the most basic efforts made to cover up the dented beige walls. The area you've just entered is no less smokey or dimly lit, but old desks line the walls, stacked with papers and data terminals. The professional trappings all feel very temporary, as if only half unpacked. A young, bespectacled man with a nasal air filter

OOC:

types at one of the terminals, paying you very little attention. In a board room at the end of hall you can see Changying talking on a compad while a stocky man sits in one of the shabby chairs drinking bottle of beer. As you approach you catch the tail end of her conversation "...being a jackass about this whole thing. Just try to talk some god damn sense into him. I think we just need to sit down and talk about this like adults." She notices you approaching. "Hey I gotta go, I've got a meeting. But you can tell him if he goes through with it he's not getting a cent out of me." She hangs up the call, and sits down at the head of the cheap, stained table where her dataslab rests. "Hey, come on in, have a seat. We've met before, Anastasia, right? You're a carpenter, huh?" She says looking at your blades. "Always good to have return customers. What can I help you out with?"

Henrietta chimed in as she might. Though the crew functioned close to a democracy as could be possible, she usually felt to be a second class citizen. Her skillset was only useful....when it was useful. All the number crunching, mechanical aspects, and shooting was better left to those whose bones hadnt felt the chill of loss and age, like hers had.

She was still interested in meeting whomever she could.

Contacts were contacts after all.

Roz listened attentively while Ana described the possible job she had been given, getting especially interested when she mentioned that they would be retrieving a piece of tech.
"The money sounds really attractive, a proper seam. I'm down for doing that. Especially maybe getting the chance to check out the tech before we destroy it."
She smiled a little dreamily, as she lent back back and took a sip from her drink.
"I wonder what exactly it might be.... But yeah I think that's a good idea. The more information we get about either the better. Lead on!"

As they moved into the back room, Roz's head moved swiftly from side to side as she took in the different details, hovering first over the young man with the air filter, to the stocky man with the beer, before finally resting on Changying. Her expression was bright and inquisitive but she waited to follow whatever move Ana would make. If the other took a seat at the table, she would too and if not she would continue to stand. This was one her new colleagues contacts after all and she'd wait at least until they introduced themselves before she'd speak herself.

As Ana was momentarily indisposed, Ros decided to take the initiative and took a seat at the table opposite Changyang. Leaning forward she leaned her elbows against the edge of the desk, and brought her hands together, opposite knuckles lined up against each other, her chin a couple of inches above them. She looked at the other women with interest.

"Ahoy ahoy. Silva and sparkle to you. I'm Roz, and I'm pleased to be of your acquaintance. I think you know one of our crew, Ana?"

She nodded back with her head, to where the other woman was standing and then looked back and grinned.
"We're kinda fresh off the boat, all gravel and dust and in need of some quality information. And according to Ana, you are without comparison when it comes to accurate and reliable data. So naturally here we are are. Would you be agreeable to do business?"

Roz smiled back and then lifted one of her hands up to show two fingers.
"Sparkle. Its nice to work alongside professionals. Not to overly complicate things, but we have two projects at the moment. As they say, only way to keep krax moss from breaking you down is to keep rolling."
Shrugging her shoulders she leaned back in her chair, eyebrows slightly raised, and the smile still on her lips.

"First up is more simple. We are interested in discovering the whereabouts of a Yuri Delacroix. He's a private detective operating here and apparently has gone to ground. Any info which might help us track him down would be lovely."

Running a hand through her hair and flicking it away from her face, she pulled down one finger on the opposite hand which was still raised.
"Number two is a bit more delicate and open ended. Like scree littered across a sheer face. We have some business with Thalamus Biomedical Industries, and specifically the head researcher Dr. Haydee Ojeda. We get the impression that the Gorgon takeover might have caused them to want to limit their links with the Cornocopia Corp. We'd like to know how real this suspicion might be and if possible any other information on Dr Ojeda."

Shrugging again but with her face, rather than her shoulders, she lent forward again.
"As I said the second project is that much scree. We aren't sure exactly where to put our step, but any additional information would be a help. Depending on what kind of deal we can work out anyway."

Upon hearing Roz's two requests Changying leans back and grins. "Oh baby, you've come to the right place. I've got leads for you and then some. Look, before we get into the details, I just wanna let you know, my commission's 15% of whatever you're taking in off the job."

Assuming any negotiation on her price goes smoothly, Changying continues.

"I know they're looking for Delacroix, his bounty went up this afternoon. Looks like someone already found him. Weren't ready for what he brought though." She turns her datapad around to show you a shaky video recording probably taken from a personal compad.

The still image before the video starts playing shows a muscular man with dark hair, Yuri it seems, having taken an opponent to the ground in a dingy bar room. The video begins playing with the sound of shouting and Yuri delivering a finishing blow with a powerful strike to the side of the head. Yuri leaps up and charges another attacker who fires a submachine futilely as Yuri moves with almost supernatural speed. Within seconds, Yuri has disarmed the attacker, snapped his wrist, and collapsed his windpipe with a blow to the neck. Yuri picks up a small duffel bag from the floor and walks out of frame. The recording ends.

Changying says "One of my painters took this at the El Rey casino, not more than two hours ago. He says he didn't see how the fight started, but you can see how it ended. I looked into it, the El Rey's got a shitty police subscription. The scene probably won't get cleaned up until tomorrow, in case you wanted to take a look around.

Moving on to the Thalamus situation, I don't know much about that doctor but you're right that the acquisition's changed some things. I know a guy who's been helping them move some new equipment into the labs, industrial chemical processors and stuff. Looks like they're gearing up for a new project of some sort. If you're interested I can get you floor plans for the building within a day or two."

"Dig out my core Changyang and leave the rest as gravel why don't you?"
Roz continued to grin back, an eyebrow raised.
"I have no doubts in the quality of your information but the price seems a bit steep. How about we say 10% and I'll promise to pass on any interesting info we find getting to the bottom of either? Between an upmarket Biomedical Industry and hunting down an underground detective we'll be covering this area from mine-shaft to ring finger. Most definitely going to find something you'll find useful."

Her eyes were glittering and her smile winning as she looked back at the other women. Depending on their negotiation, Roz moved on to take a look at the video. As Yuri showed off his speed and skill, her eyes opened wide. Glancing back at Henrietta, Ana and Ziggy, she shook her head, her mouth slightly open obviously impressed.
"I'm no fighter myself so beyond knowing he could probably take me out with a stern look, I'll leave it to you three to judge just how skilful he is and how worried we should be."

Looking back at Changyang she nodded her head.
"Thanks for the recommendation. We should definitely give it a scope out. And the floor plans would be useful too. It could be that our business with Dr Ojeda will be simple and we'll be in no need of them but its worth having a spare pick in your bag."