As he rose from the linen and cotton bed, Marko heard the footsteps coming into the quarters. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed an old man followed closely by a Deor, the human and beast hybrids. Marko had never personally dealt with a Deor before, so it was surprising encountering the horse man. The first, older man, Marko knew his name as Balder, the Master Gunner for the Aleph Null. In Marko's personal experience, he was impressively aged, and certainly older than most of the wards of the alleys would ever achieve in their short and brutish lives.

Marko was unsure what the approach was about at first. He assumed it would be his position in the whole affair, and by that measure, he was correct. “Latvanen! You're with me, lad. While Van Williams and Cap are brawlin' on the deck with the boardin' party, we are going to be a few floors down, acquirin' the bounty. This is where you come in, ya thieving twinkle toes. You're goin' to be meetin' with Jory, studyin' the projected layout of our target ship, because you and I've got the lead once we're down there.” The man's straight-to-the-point attitude was a relief. Marko listened intently and silently as Balder continued on with the details of each crewmember's role in their little party. Simple enough. Break, enter, and burglarize while the rest of the crew does the topside nastiness.

"Aye aye, sir, I'll wait here for you to send Jory my way," Marko finally replied at the end of the briefing. He hadn't the slightest who Jory was, so it would be futile trying to seek him out in the chaos of the preparations. Once he got the information that got him to the target, he'd be able to do his job. With all good fortune, they send the crew to the depths, missing their favorite goods and valuables, and their crew would be that much richer.

He noticed the Deor tap on his tools, and Marko was not entirely sure what the intention was. He had heard the Deor was a gyurgist, and assumed that was the intent of what he was trying to do. For the life of him, Marko could not ascertain if Larach was attempting to use his gyurgy, or if he was requesting permission. At that moment in time, Marko did not really want to find out, given the tightness of the schedule. He could craft another tool in an hour, but right now time was short, and he didn't want to take a chance being unfamiliar with the tools he was to take. "Maybe another time, my friend," he calmly stated, though with some haste. He would be curious to see what Larach could do, but not at that point in time.

With the raid on the horizon, hopefully literally as well as metaphorically, he waited for Jory to come. There was nothing more that he'd like than to get the nerve wracking ordeal over with. He loved the danger, but there was always something to fear in danger. The waiting was the worst. There was no fear in action, only action. Dedication of thought to a single objective, and the world melted away, along with all doubt and emotion. If there was anything Madam Mervi had taught him in those cruel, cold halls, it was that the world meant nothing in the course of action. Fear and pain were fleeting, but your actions were forever.