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Brutus Clay stepped in the cabin, the collar of his thick coat partially hiding his face. With his sunglasses on and a scarf around his neck, he looked exactly like someone who did not want to be recognized.

Maybe I overdone the dressing part. I guess I'm not as discreet as I expected to be. Anyway, better too much than not enough, as Azzan used to say.

[Welcome on the interstellar shuttle CamarHax NSO-95. Please take your seats. The flight to Planet Manhattan will begin in a few minutes]

He took his coat off and sat on a bench in the rear of the transport. His eyes briefly closed when he searched through his Neuro-Implant for his favorite song. An old Sol rock track he keeps mumbling when he is tense.

Yeah fairies wear boots you gotta believe me...

A suddent stir woke him from his musing. The pressurized doors closed as the last passengers arrived.

[Please seat down and fasten your seatbelts. We are unmooring from Planet Denver. The flight to Planet Manhattan will last about 25 minutes. We wish you an enjoyable trip]

Brutus put himself comfortable, trying to relax.

Come on, why am I so tense ? This is almost a routine operation. Chances for this to go wrong are low, right ? So just chill out and wait for Mosby to arrive.

He sighed, trying to look like a perfectly normal citizen of Liberty. It has been a long time since he did not find himself in such a situation. Since his runaway, he rarely had the time and the opportunity to see that many people in the same time.
He looked through the porthole at his left and saw the New York Jumpgate. The ship slowly came close, engaging a sequence all the Hackers know by heart. Brutus was always puzzled by this technology.

Nowadays people don't even think about it but inter-system travel is probably the most wonderful invention of all times. It allowed human space expansion at an unbelievable speed. What a shame it is almost entirely owned by Ageira...

He was still musing when the shuttle traveled the 3.6 lightyears between Colorado and New York in one single second.

Elektra climbed out of the cramped Bayonet and took a step forward into the cold hangar. She stretched a little and took a quick look around.
What a dump, and why is it so damn cold in here?

Moving with purpose towards the door and not wanting to waste time filling in forms she shot a harsh glare towards the approaching dockmaster and continued on her way, rolling her eyes at a nearby group of junkers organizing a pile of salvage.
Maybe the bar will be alright, I shouldn't get my hopes up.

She stepped through the door and took in her surroundings, the smell of tobacco with a sweet undertone of cardamine greeted her nostrils, luring her into the otherwise dank and dreary room. The bartender beckoned her over with a smile and a nod.

Hey, you're new here aren't you? I work for the junkers.
I... Erm... Yes?
I don't own the alcohol, but I have an understanding with the people who do.
Erm... Sorry, What? I was wondering if you could do me a favour?
Let me take a look at your ID.
Huh? What ID?
Ok, everything seems to be in order. What can I do for you?

Elektra blinked, puzzled by the man's strange behaviour.
"So... Where was I? Oh yeah, this is what's going to happen..."

So, here we are. New York. At least the patrols won't be after me this time. Probably.

Brutus took the time to look around him, observing the other passengers. State employees, shipyard workers, executives, the list was long. All of them probably on their way in their daily trip to their working place.
But soon, a much more uncommon person will the step in the cabin...
The slight and brief shock that Brutus knew so well indicated the vessel was exiting the trade lane.
At a few clicks in the front, he could see the biggest civilian space station of all Liberty space : Newark Station.
And on a few clicks at the right, this big blue planet. Manhattan.

Between all the Liberty planets, we had to choose the most populated and decadent one. Why didn't we arrange this meeting on Cali Minor ? Sigh.
Anyway, time to stress someone as much as I am stressed right now.

He asked his Neuro-Implant to establish a long-range communication channel.


<div align="right]
Hi Phate. This is Brutus.

Did you met Mosby yet ?

No, we are closing on the planet.

And what makes you call me then ?

I don't know, I have a bad feeling about all this. It may be a trap.

Chances are low. We double-checked all her comm logs for all the buildings she works in. No sign of suspect transmissions.

I mean, maybe she works for the IND ?

Like the half of Liberty ?

Fair point. However, -

Well.

[Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to moor on Manhattan Orbital Fixture. The next stops will be : California Minor, Thunder Bay]

A quick shock when the ship docked with the fixture, then the pressurized entrance door opened and passengers stepped in.

This is it. I really hope she does not work for the IND as well. Meeting a LSF agent is already complicated enough.

Still pondering the Barman's strange behaviour, Elektra sat at the private table as indicated, pulled a small cylindrical device out of her bag and set it upon the table. After a few seconds it began to emit an almost inaudible buzzing sound and the Lane Hacker logo flickered into life on it's surface.

That should take care of any surveillance.

Behind her, as promised, sat an old but servicable Neural-Net terminal. The ancient machine looked as though it had not been used for quite some time.

Right, this shouldn't be to hard to do. It's just a simple re-direct.

Elektra pressed the dusty power button and was relieved to be hailed by a series of beeps as the old terminal began to boot. While she waited, she located a compatible connection port and picked a rather inconspicuous looking holotain band from the table behind her.

Input device detected: Remote Holotain

Excellent

Warning: The system has detected tampering with the connected hardware. Tampering with Neural Interface devices can, in semi-rare cases, lead to permenant disabilities such as catastrophic loss of brain matter. The system has disabled the hardware to prevent damage to the user.

Oh shut up.

It didn't take long to bypass the machines safety features and restrict all outgoing data to one frequency on the Neural. It was ready. Elektra placed the Holotain Band on the table and returned to her seat.

Now I just have to wait.

After her civilian vessel landed on Manhattan's docking plateau a group from the maintenance crew came to Sonya's vessel. She knew them very vell 'cause they've been in LSF for quite a long time.

"Not the regular place," she said to the crewmen. "It's private business this time."
"Understood, ma'am. We'll find a nice public place for her."

So, where's that shuttle, she thought. Quite unusual that I should take a shuttle somewhere to meet this Paco Pistols. At the closest terminal she began to check where the shuttle was moored.
A few minutes later she entered the security area to board the shuttle.

"Ma'am, you're carrying a weapon. I can't allow you to board the vessel," said the security officer.
"Check my ID, officer. You'll see that I'm allowed to carry a sidearm at every vessel within Liberty space." With a motioning movement she gave her ID to the officer. Even with her civilian ID the terminal gave a notice about the permission to carry a pistol. On such missions she would never use her LSF badge to board any vessel, not even a official one from the Security Force.
"Alright, you're clear to proceed, ma'am. Seat Charlie 7 has been reserved for you. Have a nice flight."
"Thank you," she was muttering.

Aboard the shuttle she looked for a familiar face but no one seemed to be present. So she took her place and waited for the departure of the shuttle.

Executive. Tramp. Common Freelancer. Insurance employee.

Brutus was staring at the passengers stepping in, his Neuro-Implant displaying the photography of Sonya Mosby in his vision as he looked for a similar face.
Someone caught his attention. A woman sitting on the seat C7, two rows in front of him.

Bingo.

He got up, merging in the flow of people walking inside the cabin, and, acting exactly like an embarking passenger, sat down on C6.

Heh, that's a good trick.

[Please seat down and fasten your seatbelts. We are unmooring from Planet Manhattan. The flight to California Minor will last about 10 minutes. We wish you an enjoyable trip]

Brutus waited for the shuttle to undock. Mosby didn't seem to pay much attention to him.
He decided to let his instinct act. He let the envelop containing the password fall down from his pocket while trying to look like someone too busy thinking about important things to care about such details.

I hope this will work.

With all the passengers boarding the shuttle Sonya wasn't focussed enough on the stranger who came right to her seat. Still she had no idea if this trip would be good or bad. At least in Liberty space the LSF would have the possibility to trace her route down but it would cost them quite a time.

"Ma'am, it seems you've lost something." A flight attentend stood beside Sonya's seat with an envelop in her hand. "Oh, thank you. It must have slipped out of my pocket while I was taking a seat," she answered.

Right what I've had expected. There's somebody on this vessel. Guess they wanna keep an eye on me.

At this time she was about to regret her decission to meet this Paco Pistols but if there was any corruption in Liberty this was her chance to uncover all of it. With the typical sound the docking clamps were removed from the shuttle and the flight to California Minor was about to begin.
Carefully Sonya took a look on the envelop.

Brutus was hesitating.

Uh. She got the envelop, but she still didn't notice me. What am I supposed to do now ? Well, I guess she'll notice the ear piece. But I should probably tell her about the rest of the plan...

Brutus tapped Mosby on her shoulder.

-Excuse me, Miss.

With a slow movement Sonya turned her head.
"Yes, sir?" She started to eye up the foreigner right next to her. Not sure about him she recognized his face from some reports made by LPI and the LSF. "Oh, you must be my guide for this mission, right? I guess Mister Pistols send you."


For gods sake, what have you done, girl. Even if this Pistols will help you to uncover some things, this won't end in a good way, she thought.


//Sorry for the late response, I've been on vacations.

Paco... Yes, he sent me.

Brutus nervously looked around the cabin, trying to spot possible overhearers.

But you don't need to know my name. And especially not here.
Anyway, here's what's going to happen.
There is an earplug in this envelop. An earplug connected to a friend of mine.
He will tell you the password when you get to Thunder Bay. Now you're probably wondering "why don't you just give me the password now ?" The answer is simple. We don't trust you. At least I don't. This might very well be a trap, that's why I don't know the password. However, Dialectius, who is comfortably seated somewhere far from here, knows it.

Any questions ?