As Barret walks away to his own business, the Zoner and the Corsair look at each other and smirk wryly in unison, "Right then... Ready to head off?" Leonardo remarks dryly.
"What's all the rush, Señor Tigre? We just got here, so might as well enjoy the night before we venture off to our likely-deaths, si?" Casini puts her drink up to her mouth to, this time, sip it and slowly enjoy it.
"Well... I guess a thorough Neural Net background research on Rheinland while we still have some breathing room wouldn't hurt... And I also need to do some equipment-repairs on the side: my PSU's Positron Settings have been frequently going off on their own accord." He looks up to his sleeve-covered left arm and twists it around to spy at it a bit before sighing disappointedly to himself.
"Hmmm... I remember you mentioned that thing activates via your neural signals, si? Maybe you're just being on edge, Señor, which would lead you to having abnormal fluctuations with your thought patterns, confusing the unit's sensory-recognition software... You sure you don't need a drink?" She offers her still-half-full bottle to her companion with a big grin, "Trust me when this will take the edge off of your mind really quick, heheheh..."
He pauses reluctantly at her gesture before sighing, "I... I'm pretty sure I don't drink, but thank you for the offer anyway. I'll be able to handle it...
"I'll go ahead and find us some rooms to rest for the night." Leonardo starts to walk towards the exit.
"Ahh... I think I'll just go along with you instead, compadre. I'd like to get the Netherwalker ready for the flight as well before we head off to bed." Casini follows him close behind, and the two eventually exit the bar without another moment's notice.
Declan MacTavish wasn't hired for his smoothness.
At seven feet tall, able to carry a keg under each arm, and a former null-grav boxer, he was hired for his ability to move, crush, or otherwise badly harm anyone not welcome in the Drunken Junker Pub.
As the Corsair lass, Casini walks past he smiles and stares.
Unable to tear his eyes from her as she walked out, he leans out and watches her recede down the gangway.
Returning to his job, he shakes his head, and lets out a low whistle. "Now tha' model's go' 'erself a fine rear spoiler package, she does." he says to himself with a grin.
Tess, the Drunken Junker's resident Concierge and Mistress of Ceremonies, hunched over and whispering to Finnegan behind the smoked glass doors of the .:j:.Congress Lounge, grimaces and begins to punch instructions into her datapad.
A datascreen set into the bar blinks, and Johnny peers at the instructions appearing upon it. -Congressman Finnegan wants to speak to the Indians.
-Advise Indian envoy to make appt. with Tess O'Malley or Tim Finnegan himself.
-Priority: Urgent
While Sequoia found Junkers more or less a pleasant group of people doing what the others should do when it usually came to cleaning those scrap fields around Bretonia, she never talked to Junker in person and those rare guys she met never represented a respectable self-sufficent kind of them. That's why she was quite confused while approaching Invergordon and then even more confused when it appeared to be a nice place in general.
With a curious look, staring at the people and the interiors around she entered The Drunken Junker Pub she was reffered to by some tipsy, but adorable lady she met while getting lost. With hands in the pockets of her skirt she waltzed through the place, took a seat at the bar and busied hersef with exploring the menu.
Golanski's fighter docks on space port, whole stations remind him about Freeport 9, but within borders of house. He makes sure nobody will try to get hands on his fighter and walks directly to 'Drunken Junker' pub. He wears typical clothes, inspired by Zoner uniforms. Specific decorations catch his eye, quite nice as something that is made by a Junker. He is searching for someone and looks he finds what he was searching for.
'Sequoia? I am Golanski, I am here to help you.'
Golanski takes seat and continues
'I received your transmission and I came here to assist you. You see, you are not the only person who wants to find Arkania'
"For the good of conspiration I will call you Michal, captain Golanski", Sequoia stretched and added, "But I will reveal your disguise if you won't point to the best ale they have around." She impatiently tapped out Ludwig van Beethoven's Opus 1 and obviously was a bit nervous for the moment, while trying to make it less noticable and relax with a glass of beer.
"So what's all the fuss about? I undersand that a certain person is kidnapped and it's bad, but why the half a Sirius including the most secret organisation ever is after the slaver? I'm pretty sure that someone concealed something from me."
She took out a packet of cigarettes, sighed and lighted one up.
'I search for woman Izzy Archer, Jeremy Hunter's wife. And she's pregnant. I received message she was kidnapped by Rachel, I was about to move out when your message reached me.'
He relaxed, and took out his datapad and shows it to Sequoia
'Except what you forwarded to me, I know that there is ex-phantom Christophen Dangen searching for Arkania vessel. Hopefuly he is propably on our side.'
He ordered glass of water and continues.
'I hate slavers. And I am on holidays I could say... who is exactly your friend's friend if I may know?'
"You won't like the answer, Michal", Sequoia inhaled with pleasure and added after a little pause, "Christopher Dangen is my friend. He asked me to take part in it." She made another pause and continued, "I never heard of Izzy Archer or Jeremy Hunter before - even since it's quite fine to know who are you looking for. Well, since our goals are the same, we can work together on it like the good old friends, right?" Sequoia smiled and switched to the glass bartender aimed to her to make it half-full.
That ale tasted good. Sequoia pillowed head on her hands and looked around having an idea to find someone to familiarise her with the slave market in mind. It's a Junker station after all. The guys here shoud know everything.
An old junker at the bar puts up his head as he hears the words "local smuggler".He stood there for a while alone with his drink. He looks at the room to find the person who was speaking. After a while he identifies the man and the women at the table few meters away and looks at them interested "You're lookin' fo' a slaver eh'?"He suddenly appears next to their table. "I know a few...very few. Bu' I could try to help ya'."
"You're right, sir", Sequoia nodded and gestured to the seat next to her. This man in his late fifties was neatly dressed, but he looked like his life wasn't easy. Somehow he looked like a stereotypical old smuggler in Sequoia's imagination and that's why she found him trustworthy.
"We're looking for a certain lady - she's involved in some special business around Bretonia", Sequoia smiled to the Junker obviously going to lie a bit, "Her name is Rachel, captain of "Arkania". The business is, let's say, slavery. I wanted to offer her a contract along with my friend from Freeport 9. You know, one of those large contracts - and suddenly I realized that I lost contact with her and that's confusing since my friend is already here", Sequoia pointed to Michal, "If you know her or can point to a direction where to search, it'll be appreciated."