RP: The Fringe [Chapter 1.0] - New Hires

Amelia nodded towards the spiderbot, regaining her composure once the surprise was over, "Alright, I'm Amelia." She said to it in a more friendly voice, reaching down and grabbing her Datajockey; there was no need to shake hands because, well, one of the parties didn't seem to have them, or at least she just thought it didn't. she smudged the screen with a gloved hand before standing up, staring almost level with an upside-down Crash.

"Well, I guess I should go do some of those repairs now," Amelia said, bringing up the list that Crash had come up with, "starting with the relay bus. Care to show me?" She added, bringing the screen down again and staring at the spiderbot.

Ye Olde Den

Ravakee noted the small change in her demeanour, it didn't surprise him in the slightest, one couldn't get the simplest of pleasures without showing a little wealth from time to time. Luckily he still had enough to spill on these leisurely pleasures and alcohol, helped ease the burden of the fact he really, didn't have much to his name at that moment in time. Tipping back another shot from the bar-keep, he passed the woman a wink and dipped a hand into his pocket, his long tongue darting across his lower lip. Revealing a wad of KS notes and chips and passing the woman an expectant look. “Whatchya got ta offer for me?” he asked with a light, seductive growl to his voice.

Though that quickly changed when he noted the individual pacing towards him down the bar, a look that he'd seen once too many times on over-eager free-lancer's and first-time Hunter's. Placing the wad of notes down on the bar and pressing a firm connection of his palm to the woman's rump, he seamlessly shifted her from his lap and stood, rolling his shoulders to match the incoming Nepleslian with a light smirk on his lips and a wink to the show-girl, whom he realised he didn't even know, or had even asked the name of. “Now wha' can I do for ya, stormin' over 'ere like ya got business with me?” he asked, one hand motioning to the Nepleslian whilst the other snaked it's way behind his back.

Ye Old Den

Six Four watched as the two parties started to converge. "Irritated: Six Four just left work...." The helmeted freespacer said to itself, before a what could only be assumed was a grumble came out in digitized noises. Picking up the micro space aligator and putting it back into its pocket, at the cost of a few snaps at its gloved hand. Once safely tucked away in the doctors coat, Six Four adjusted its tie before swinging its Ingtris Flamethrower onto the table. As Six Four placed the weapon onto the table, the server came back with its suhi and smoothie.

"Reassuring: Don't worry this one is a doctor, this one sees worse messes on a daily basis."

As to prove its point, Six Four produced a business card from apparently up its sleeve before poping a roll into its mouth, well a small hatch that opened up on the helmet and quickly closed once the morsel was past it.

Ye Olde Den

The mean-looking, stubble-bearded, thick-armed Nepleslian strode up to stand less than a foot away from Ravakee, standing menacingly over him. His thin-haired companion came up a second later, positioning himself at the Gartagen's opposite flank, folding his arms across his chest, although he looked significantly less displeased than his friend. The stockier one snorted and worked his jaw as he glared at Ravakee, glancing only briefly at the green-haired dancing girl in his lap. The girl groaned in annoyance as she rolled her eyes, obviously recognizing him, and clearly not happy to see him at all.

For a moment, it looked almost as if the mean-looking man was about to spit on the ground, but refrained from doing so, for whatever reason. "You're hoggin' my favorite girl, there," the man growled.

The dancing girl sneered back at the man, leaning forward off of Ravakee's lap slightly. "I already told you, Mitch," she snapped. "You ain't laying a finger on me ever again. You're lucky I don't get Dozer over here to toss your ass out of here for good after what you pulled."

"Shut yer trap, skank," Mitch hissed through clenched teeth. "This is man talk. Stay outta it."

///
Ship
///

Crash studied her for a moment longer before letting out a mechanical sigh and clickity clanking off out of the cockpit. "Come along child I'll show you." The voice was on of the Yammi Princess again. It kept disappearing from view as it worked it's way through the wire harness and pipe passages.

"Here it is up here." A access hatch popped open and fell at her feet. "Right here..." it's fore-legs were poking a wire harness.

Airlock

Oreza slipped his helmet on, locking it in place and activating the built in life support system. He was not pleased with the attitude Sienna had adopted or that she was stressing so easily. There was nothing happening to warrent it. Even though she did not want to talk about it anymore, he would continue the conversation later.

He checked the life support readout and nodded when all the indicators winked green.

"Lets go" he said and sealed the airlock inner hatch and locked it down before he cycled and opened the outer hatch.

Amelia scoffed once more when Crash took the voice of the Yamataian Princess, not used to it so she ended up thinking that it was mocking her somehow, which wouldn't be an absurd considering what had transpired earlier. Still, she sighed and followed it, jumping back when the access hatch popped too close to her feet; Her eyes slowly looked up towards the spiderbot, then followed it until they reached the wire harness that it was poking with its forelegs.

She carefully reached towards it with a gloved hand, a puzzled expression on her face as she leaned closer to inspect the harness and try to figure out what was supposedly wrong with it.

Concordia Veil - Central Airlock

Sienna nodded inside her helmet when Oreza confirmed a good seal, and watched as the big bearded man cycled the airlock, the loud pneumatic hiss of pressure equalizing muted through her faceplate. Following behind him, she ascended the ladder up and out of the ship, climbing atop the hull. The fabric of the flexible docking tube rocked a little as Oreza continued to climb up the soft but sturdy hand and footholds, up into the mooring crane that was swivelled above them. She only had a few inches between the edge of the opening below her and the sealing ring of the tube, but it was enough to be able to squat down and cycle the airlock closed once again. Once she was satisfied that the ship was once again sealed, she looked down at the PHC on her wrist, sending a quick message to the cockpit:


Rising to her feet, she held a hesitant gaze on the hull below her, drawing a deep breath. She had only just acquired this ship, and had poured so much of herself into it already. It took all of her willpower to leave it behind in the hands of someone she didn't fully trust in an unfamiliar place. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

Exhaling through puffed cheeks, she tore her eyes away from her "baby" and turned them up the tube, and climbed up after Oreza, following him as he crested the lip of the passageway and walked the length of the crane's internal hall into the Black Moon's spaceport.


Black Moon - Spaceport

The spaceport airlock cycled with a series of creaking, metallic clanks and crashes, its internal door whooshing open to reveal a ramshackle, dirty, sprawling concourse filled wall to wall with a motley assortment of sentient beings milling about. A fair portion of the crowd were Nepleslian, ranging from well-to-do to ragged, although a sizable percentage of them were alien races of all varieties with equally varied appearances. One didn't need to look very long to spot the occasional unconventional-looking Minkan or Nekovalkyrja. Nearly everyone was armed in some way, most people sporting pistols of nearly every kind on their belts, many more with rifles and long-bore weapons. Some even possessed swords and exotic-looking bladed weapons as complementary arms. Flickering neon-lit signs hung from the ceiling, written in all sorts of languages and alphabets, several of which were not completely lit and barely legible. There was some semblance of uniformity between the directional signs that were placed there by whatever weak authority was in charge of running the spaceport, although the ones that had obviously been replaced in recent years made no effort to match the style and appearance of the original ones. Mixed among them was a cacaphony of advertisements and graffiti that overloaded one's visual senses, numbing them to any effect that most of them likely hoped to have.

Twisting her helmet to release it once they were safely protected from the vacuum outside, Sienna lifted it off of her shoulders and immediately crinkled her nose. The air inside was stale and smelled of rust, decay, and a confusing mix of various machinery fluids. Clasping her helmet by the lower rim in her left hand, she lowered it to her side and glanced at Oreza, nodding for him to follow her, and started to push through the crowd.

Concordia Veil

The bot's legs started dancing about a little as if it was growing anxious. It kept tapping the relay and then moving out of the way. "It needs to be replaced... The core wire has a diminished return value on the data sent through it..." The voice that sounded this time was one of the child again, and its tone matched it's impatience to the dancing.

"I see." Amelia said, letting go of the wire as she shot a quick glance towards the spiderbot. Before she did anything else, though, she stopped to check her Datajockey again, reading Sienna's message and letting out a sigh after he finished it. She was really 'grounded' inside the ship for as long as the other woman was out there. Putting the Datajockey down again, she turned her attention back to Crash. "This isn't really my specialty, I'm just the navigator. But if you tell me what I need to do step by step I think I can handle it," she said to the bot.

There was a soft screech that came from the 'bot, one that could quite easily be mistaken for a sigh. "You ever work with wiring harnesses before?" It clattered about a bit more eyeing her before poking at two endpoints of the relay, a dry droning male voice started up. "Begin removal of the old relays from the control box by removing the sheet metal screws holding the relays in place. Save your screws. All wires, both white -black on older units- and red, connected to the relays will be removed. With the relays loosened, remove the two large screws on the terminal block holding the relay wiring in place. The wires at this point should be crimped into two large silver connectors that also will contain one red wire each. Follow each red wire and remove the push-on connectors from the fuse holder and the transformer bottom tab.

"Use a gentle side to side rocking and pulling motion to remove these connectors. Be especially careful when removing the connector from the transformer to avoid damaging it. Remove the red connector from the top-center transformer tab also. Remove the double red wire on the circuit board labeled center tab. carefully pull the relays and all attached wires out of the control box.

"To install new one please reverse operation. Please be careful as not to electrocute self, unit will laugh uncontrollably and point at the now cooked flesh sack."

Amelia rolled her eyes back. Yeah, she knew how to replace a cable, she had grown in a spaceship after all, so she knew how to do some of the basic things without getting too complex, but that wasn't the reason she said what she had, though. A faint smirk crossed her face as she listened to the spiderbot, widening a little as it talked about the electrocuting part; she wouldn't have to worry about that, having both the Dusk suit and insulated gloves over it. "Well, it's not that I don't know how to replace it, it's more that the tools I'd need to do it aren't with me. You kinda took them." She said to Crash with a hint of mischief.

With another sighed data screech, it would almost remind someone of old dial up sounds. It clattered away off to its hidden nest making sure to go there by an long round about route going through tight passageways that Amelia couldn't follow. So It returned with a bag of tools dropping them in front of her. "ThErE."

"Thanks." Amelia said, crouching down to inspect the bag, and confirming that those were, in fact, her missing tools. "How did you get these without me or anyone else noticing anyway?" she asked casually as she removed the tools she needed to perform the repairs. There was even a similar wire harness inside the bag. She didn't dare to reclaim her tools back, though, at least not yet as they still 'belonged' to Crash. The replacement of the harness went smoothly after that, being performed with a practiced precision by Amelia.

"I know my ship quite well... I have been living here only for six or some years now... I can go anywhere i want without being seen." The voice has shifted back to a bland generic female voice. It was watching her movements and the process she was going through, making sure she didn't screw up any part of the replacement.

"Ah," Amelia said as she finished screwing and securing the new cable harness in place. It was interesting to her, even funny, how Crash claimed the ship, and made her wonder how Sienna would react to that if she found out about the spiderbot. "Well, Sienna did say the last occupants were very... eccentric," she said to it, turning around to stare at the spiderbot as she dusted off her gloved hands on her pants before crouching down again to put the tools back in their original bag, "What do you do with these anyway?" she asked right after that.

"I do not know about them, I was asleep for a while... I don't do anything but keep them away from you..." it's mandibles chattered a bit again before it climbed down to retrieve the panel. It took a moment for him to replace it and reconnect it to it's seating. "Does that bother you?"

It took her a few moments to respond to that as she cautiously thought about what to say next. "Well... You kinda got me in trouble for it, but then again I tried to wipe you..." she said, looking down and scratching her head, her expression was difficult to tell between being ashamed or just alarmed by the awkwardness of the situation. She hadn't know Crash was Crash up until a few minutes before, and it seemed she still wasn't over it.

It chittered again before skittering up her side to her shoulder. "Next part?" it asked in her voice again, making her wince from both listening to something speak in her own voice and the sudden contact as she gasped in surprise.

"I... Uh..." she said, at a loss of words as she felt the many robotic legs from the spiderbot poking on her skin as it crawled on her, making her shudder. Amelia slowly reached down to retrieve her Datajockey, surprisingly worried that if she moved too fast she'd drop the spiderbot somehow. "I don't think we have the tools to replace the wireless systems... So what do you mean by the connection to the flight controls missing?" she asked, her voice still calm.

"I have no direct control over the flight systems... I have been having to cross hack through sixteen subsystems and reroute the data through the sensor hardware before bringing it back to the controls. Even then I was only able to do mild ajustments to your preprogramed flightplan." It lightly moved so that it was gripping her Dusk suit's seams and thick point so not to hurt her as he rode along.

Amelia was sure that giving it full control over the ship's flight controls was a bad idea, she would rather stay moored in Black Moon than risk being alone in the ship with the spiderbot. "You know I really shouldn't help you with that," she said to it, although she stared ahead instead of looking over her shoulder towards the spiderbot.

"It makes perfect sense. I can monitor the ship and the sensors at all times, and help keep it on course. Plus, as you said, you are just a navigator. If the ship is attacked or it ends up in a situation that gets out of hand I can take control and make the necessary calculations, and maneuvering decisions far faster then any one aboard." It's voice changed over to Sienna's, "The blond one would like the fact that my ship is safe."

"But how can I know that you simply won't run away with the ship given the chance?" Amelia asked. She was perfectly aware how an AI could perform calculations or react faster than any 'normal' person, and although she probably would've accepted it if there wasn't that liability, it still wasn't her choice to make, since it wasn't her ship and she still wasn't even sure if Sienna wouldn't completely flip once she found out about the spiderbot.

"All things being equal, you don't. Though the Blond had removed a start relay for the ship. There are also lock outs on the main control systems. Those, though, I can get through given a few minutes of calculation time." It's voice shifted to one of a mischievous child, the laughing chitter didn't help that image. It was sure the Navigator wouldn't give it control but it was at least had to try. "Or shall we sit here and troll the networks for interesting images and video?"

"She what?!" Amelia asked Crash, stopping dead on her tracks and this time looking over her shoulders to stare at the spiderbot directly.

"She removed a main start relay, and put a lock out on the main control system. It is something that is normal in small ships like this." The 'bot didn't twitch or anything. It really didn't see the issue at hand.

Amelia's shoulders seemed to drop as she considered that. Not only did Sienna not trust her, but she also would rather do something like that behind her back. "Ugh, that bitch!" she said out loud, the fact that the very captain of the ship couldn't be straightforward to her crew-members and being paranoid instead was what infuriated her, it was toxic. If Sienna thought she would steal the ship she'd damn well-

No, Amelia slowly calmed down, taking a deep breath. Ironically, it seemed that she could trust the spiderbot that had been trying to undermine her efforts even more than he could trust the ship's captain, at least Crash was straightforward about things and that was good enough for her. "Might as well just waste time since there's nothing else to do," she conceded to it, trying to find a way to best make use of the 'free time' she had while the rest of the crew was away.

Ye Olde Den

The mood in the bar changed dramatically, Ravakee had gone in for a good drink and maybe a little attention, instead he drew the entirely wrong kind of attention he'd been seeking. Squaring the thick-setNepleslian up and down, the Gartagen merely rolled his neck and watched the way he spoke to the girl, clearly they had some history and after he'd wiped the floor with both of them, maybe he'd find out. “Listen, I ain't 'ere for trouble. Just a drink an' some company, like you two.” he explained, his right hand fingers folding around the grip of his Talon, finger snaking onto the trigger behind him beneath his coat.

The other fellow behind him, was being carefully monitored as-well, Ravakee's tail swaying through the tail-slit at the back of the coat, the golden tip glinting as it moved, almost like it was trying to mesmerise the individual. “I'm thinkin' both of you need to sit down, now. I'll even buy you a drink, 'ow's that sound?” he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically, subtly he's posture changed into a ready position, his tail curling like a snake ready to strike and his hand folding entirely around the grip of the pistol. He hoped they'd back off, see sense, else one of them would have a .44 round through their knee-caps and the other, well, his tail could do a lot of things...

Ye Olde Den

Sienna and Oreza, both garbed in their Dusk Suits and carrying their helmets in their hands, entered the red-carpeted, cavernous establishment, and took stock of their surroundings. Squinting slightly, Sienna passively scanned the sea of heads once, then again, and shook her head. "The guy we're looking for calls himself Huxley," she told Oreza in an all-business, disconnected tone without looking at him. "Supposed to be wearing a gold jacket, but I don't see anyone in here like that. I didn't think we'd beat him here." Stepping down the few steps into the establishment, she nodded for her companion to follow. "Let's see if he's in back somewhere, or at least find a good spot to stake out and watch for him."

Over at the bar, the gruff Nepleslian Mitch snorted at Ravakee, eyeing the hand that the Gartagen had hidden behind his back before his gray eyes went back to his face. "And I'm thinkin' you dunno what you might be gettin' yerself into, new blood," he retorted with a menacing grin. Mitch's silent friend made a few steps to the side to Ravakee's flank, but otherwise made no move to advance on him, and by all appearances wasn't terribly excited about the escalating tension. Mitch rubbed the stubble on his chin, continuing to stare down the Gartagen. "Now, if you really don't want trouble, you best take yer hand out where I can see it and offa my girl." The grin widened, though it was anything but congenial. "I'll even let you buy me that drink so you can show me there ain't no hard feelings."

The dancing girl, although the defiant look stayed on her face, unconsciously clung tighter to Ravakee's neck. "I said piss off, Mitch," she snapped, and looked over at her shoulder towards the four-armed Freespacer bartender, shooting him an impatient and silent plea for assistance with her expression. With emotionless, mechanized movements, the golden-eyed bartender caught sight of what was brewing a dozen feet away or so, and set down the glasses it was sorting, blankly starting to stride towards them.

Ye Olde Den

Oreza nodded as Sienna informed him of the identity of their contact. He kept his helmet held in the opposite hand to his gun hand as to not interfere with his need to draw his weapon if required. His eyes scanned the bar, looking for three things. A man in a gold jacket, a good spot to wait and trouble. There was always trouble in places like this. One of the reasons he usually opted not to frequent establishments like this unless he absolutely had to.

And on cue, he spotted trouble over at the bar. "Looks like there's going to be a little bit of a tiff over at the bar" he said, leaning close enough to Sienna so he could keep his voice down. "We may want to steer well clear of that area until it blows over. Could get violent fast" he advised, his free hand resting near the grip of his pistol.

Ye Old Den

With the apparent lack of intersest in its business card, Six Four put it away before laying a handful of bills on the table, picking up It's flamethrower and moving a bit closer towards the imminent brawl. With the thickening crowd it became a bit hard to navigate to a good vantage point and the freespacer ended up near two people who just recently entered the establishment, and judging from their appearance, the station itself. Six Four took a moment to study them, stating square in front of the pair and blatantly stairing at them.

'Subjects: New Arrivlas numbers 324 and 325' Six Four thought to itself as a holograpic notepad materialized itself inside of Six Fours helmet HUD. ' 324 Male Nepleslian, Aging with visual scars, slightly taller than six foot. Potentially trigger happy (stereotype plus hypothesis on scars and current disposition) potential bodyguard or father to arrival 325."

Adjusting it's head slightly Six Four looked at the second person, opening up a new data file in its HUD to display.

' 325 Female also Nepleslian. Much younger than subject 324 and shorter (roughly same height as Unit Six Four) demeanor upset/angry. Note ask subject if it would like a serotonin/dopamine injection to elevate mood. Recommend ocular injection or injection through frontal cortex for best results. If opted for remember to recommend restraints to significantly lower chance of mishaps'

As Six Four made mental notes to itself, it accessed its polysence to see if it could find anymore information on these people from the docking of the Black Moon, though it would take a bit of time to access. As it ran its scan it didn't move and continued to stare at the new people.

Ye Olde Den

Sienna followed Oreza's gaze with her eyes over to the bar, spotting the powder keg he was referring to, and pursed her lips with a shake of her head. "Figures," she replied, and looked around the establishment once more. The place looked big enough to accommodate an enormous crowd at its peak hours, whatever those might be, but while the floor was semi-crowded at the moment, it was far from saturated. There was just enough space between clusters of people socializing to make her believe that if they distanced themselves far enough away from the bar, a fight wouldn't propagate all the way to them should one break out. Involuntarily she touched the handle of her pistol, as if to reassure herself it was still there, just as her slowly rotating head brought her vision to bear on a tiny circular table on the far left wall, shrouded in shadows except for a tiny, tackily old-fashioned shaded lamp set in its center, casting yellowish incandescent light down on the table surface just enough to illuminate it and very little else around it. Fixing her eyes on it, she waved to Oreza over her shoulder to get his attention and started to walk over towards it. "Hopefully our buddy doesn't scare off if it gets rowdy in here," she called back to her companion.

Her helmet still clutched in her left hand, circling the perimeter of the bar brought Sienna close by Six Four's table, and she did a mild double-take at the Freespacer's featureless faceplate that seemed to be staring at her unapologetically. The young woman narrowed one eye slightly, staring quizzically back, watching for some sign that the suited spacefarer would try to get her attention or strike up a conversation, but none came, at least not immediately. Sienna slowed her pace and looked the opposite way, scanning the groups of people behind her to see if perhaps the Freespacer was looking at someone else. If it was, however, it wasn't obvious as to who. She turned her eyes back towards it and slowed to a halt, a skeptically curious look on her face. The faceplate had followed her. Either the Freespacer was intensely interested in her or Oreza and lacked the human social sense not to make it so blatantly obvious, was interacting with some kind of holographic display on the inside of its visor and coincidentally turned its head at just the right time, or she was getting paranoid. The creature didn't fit the description she'd been given, but she wondered if it could possibly be their contact, or someone sent in his stead.

Holding her wary return gaze on the Freespacer a few seconds more, she finally dispensed with any doubt that she or Oreza were in fact the object of its scrutiny, and stepped forward. "Can we help you with something?" she asked cautiously, but with palpable confidence.

Ye Old Den

"New.." Six Four said adjusting it's viewing so it was starring directly at subject 325. "Query: You and your... Compatriot? Are new arrivals to the moon yes?" The freespacer said in it's robotic monotone, slightly cocking it's head to the side. "This one only asks because subjects 324 and 325 are not present in Unit Six Fours database. Reassuring: this one only keeps track because of it's Stichtech profession and the majority of the residence of this moon see some time in the clinic." Six Four took a brief moment to pause before speaking up again.

"Side note, this one couldn't help but notice your disposition earlier and would recommend a serotonin or dopamine injection. Sales pitch: currently marked half price and this one has a 96.335678% success rate performing the operation."

Before Sienna could say a word Six Four had produced a business card and tucked it into the front if her suit before waiting for a response, blank faced as ever behind the reflective helmet.

Concordia Veil - Lounge

Amelia was reclined on the small sofa, fiddling with the older but functional vidscreen on the opposite wall, when a soft alert tone sounded from the tiny intercom speaker next to the door. "Incoming transmission... from..." droned the mechanized, broken voice of the ship's computer, and then a different, oily-sounding male human voice finished its sentence, obviously recorded from a prompt, "Black Moon Port Authority."

The astrogator frowned slightly in puzzlement. This was the first she'd heard anything about the port authority needing anything from her, and part of her wondered if a place like this even had a central authority keeping order aside from making sure ships didn't crash into one another as they arrived and departed. Perhaps that very kind of disorganization was why this came as a surprise. With a grunt, she stood up from the sofa and walked across the room to the intercom, depressing the transmit button as she spoke into it. "Patch it through, computer," she replied, then released the button and waited. Three or four seconds later, another, higher-pitched "green light" tone sounded, indicating the connection was made. She depressed the button again. "This is the Concordia Veil, Black Moon, go ahead."

There was another slight pause, then a crackle, and the same off-tenor voice came back. "Concordia Veil, Black Moon," he answered. "We're making our rounds and gotta inspect your hold. There's a few things the bosses don't want coming planetside, routine stuff, ya know."

Amelia exhaled loudly once she finished hearing the message, scratching her head with one hand while she reached for the intercom with the other, pressing the button again. She really didn't expect that, and the interruption was like a cold bucket of water that took her out from a belly-aching fit of laughter from when she was enjoying watching whatever it was she had been to remind her of where exactly she was, making her caution come back with full throttle. Her finger stood pressed against the intercom button for an awkward moment of silence as she thought that, "Roger that, station, I'll comply with the search. Who am I speaking to, exactly, though?" She asked, removing the finger from the intercom.

Just after that, she looked back to where Crash was with a shrug, raising both hands to signal that she didn't have any idea of what that was about.

Ship

After hearing both the message and Amelia's response, Crash tittered a little before scrambling for a duct to hide. Ever since it fist went into hibernation mode hiding was the key to it's survival. it crept deep with in the ship's bowls and connected to the main computer system, then through it to Amelia's data pad.

Concordia Veil - Lounge

The intercom speaker was silent for one second before crackling to life again. "What, like my name?" the voice came back, sounding as if he wasn't used to being asked. Evidently most ships coming through here didn't care much about the personal details of visitors. "Uh, it's Datsan," it continued hesitantly, still sounding kind of unsure. "And my partner Paul. We're on the landing pad, outside the ship. You got another external airlock besides the one the mooring tube is hooked up to that you can let us in through?"

Amelia frowned as she heard the reply on the radio, she was not unfamiliar with these ship procedures, and even though she expected a great deal of informality in a place like Black Moon there was still something about the way these two talked that seemed off to her. For a second she really wished the rest of the crew hadn't left the ship, and wondered if she should wait for Sienna to return and deal with it; She quickly scratched off the idea, though, if these 'fine gentlemen' were really port officials they'd have a very good reason to kick down the door and get in if she suddenly stopped answering.

"Negative, the mooring tube's the only one." She said, pausing for some time as her mind raced for her to think of a way to deal with that, "I'll be standing by to cycle the airlock once you're through." She added. Amelia removed her finger from the intercom and grabbed her Datajockey in a hurry, where she quickly started typing out a message to Crash: