[hider=Title of the Recording: Turning points 0017]
“There are points in life that define what we will become, where the paths of what are and what could be intersect to such an extreme that in choosing one way, we alter ourselves irrevocably. Right or left. Stay or go. Lie or tell the truth. Hide or run. There were so many in my life after leaving Syrae. I’m certain that if I’d made difference choices I would be a different person… or dead. The second possibility is of course much more likely.”[/hider]

Ryen gave Lazlo an exasperated expression as he assessed her clothing choice. His emphasis on the word criminal pinged something in her pride as did the expression that briefly played across his face. Did he not believe her when she said she’d nothing to do with her father’s murder or was it simply something else? Before she could ask him, however, he took the card in her outstretched hand and she had other concerns occupying her mind. 

Ryen held her breath as Lazlo place the card inside the terminal. A nervous giddiness flooded through Ryen’s veins as time seemed to slow. She couldn’t bear to watch his face as she waited for the final verdict about her account but instead focused on the air lock door behind him. Once her eyes flicked over to the machine in Lazlo’s hands and she saw him speedily typing away. However, before she could inquire anything, he broke the silence between them.

[b]”I'd highly suggest that you avoid buying anything which could be viewed as an offensive weapon with this card."[/b]

[b]”Right.”[/b] Ryen replied, the word dripping with obvious anger and irritation. What kind of person did he think she was? Or did the captain’s statement have something to do with her card? Had something been wrong with it, like she’d feared all along? 

[b]”Make sure you get here early and tell the AI to start warming up the core for me."[/b]

Ryen reached out tried to take the offered card. However, it was clear the man wasn’t letting go of the metal chip just yet. Once again Ryen felt like something about their exchange was off. He’d been clear in his announcement earlier that no one was allowed to board the ship early but now he’d just given her early access. The ship’s AI would easily be able to warm up the cores itself if Lazlo simply told the computer when to do it. Ryen pulled slightly on her card again and felt the resistance of his hold. Their eyes met. [b]”Sure, I can do that.”[/b] At last the card slipped from his hand.

----

Stepping out of the ship, Ryen adjusted the Arubiat scarf, pulling it off her face and laying it over her shoulders. Lazlo did have a point. Wearing one might do more harm than good if it made her the center of attention.

The mechanic took a moment to take in her surroundings. As expected, the Fess Maria was currently in a shipping yard, B dock, to be exact. Various other civilian vessels hunkered down nearby. Wires, hoses, and various repair machines attached to them like tendons on bone. Screens high above displayed the time in FST and various other PT including Syrae’s.  Blocky black paint made it clear to the new arrivals that they’d landed on Federation Stronghold in sector 700. Ryen walked over to a nearby panel located near the ship’s anchoring system. With a few quick swipes, she’d pulled up a holographic map of the portion of the stronghold civilians had access to.

From what she could gather, this place was part military base, part ship repair yard, part trade post, and part communication center for this small portion of the galaxy. Sadly, what she knew about the Federation, let alone their strongholds, was at best, lacking. Her school work had only brush on some Federation generalizations (perhaps because most people on Syrae had chosen to move there to get away from the government) and her father’s tutoring hadn’t bothered to add much. Odd, now that she thought about it, that her father had focused on language, history, technology, and major planets of the Federation without actually caring much about covering the governing body itself. 

A hand clamped down on Ryen’s shoulder causing the woman to nearly jump out of her skin. Whirling around she was met with the grinning, smoke clouded face of the ship’s doctor. [b]”I almost didn’t recognize you.”[/b] he said, his expression not faltering. 

Ryen shrugged at his comment, not wanting to let it be known that she was following Lazlo’s suggestion. It would be too close to admitting that the captain was right and after their most recent conversation, it wasn’t something Ryen felt up for. Turning back to the map, Ryen continued her survey, zooming in and out of various areas.

[b]”Are you looking for something specific?”[/b] he prodded, [b]”A restaurant of some sort? Maybe some place to get a haircut?”[/b]

[b]”Haircut?”[/b] Ryen replied absentmindedly, still applying her focus to the map. She was trying to create a mental image in her brain of the stronghold just in case. However, the sheer number of interconnecting passages and various transportation mechanisms made the feat difficult, more so with Quincy chatting in her ear. [b]”What’s wrong with my hair?”[/b]

[b]”Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just always found red hair to be rather bold myself. I hear lilac’s all the rage this season. Lots of people have lilac hair.”[/b] 

[b]”That’s nice,”[/b] she replied, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice as she scanned over yet another floor. Gods, how many did this place have? Unfortunately she never had a chance to find out as Quincy grabbed her hand and proceeded to direct her towards the nearest door. Ryen would have protested if she hadn’t seen the strained look in the doctor’s eyes. [b]”Don’t turn around,”[/b] he whispered under his breath, [b]”Just keep walking.”[/b]