((Part One of a Collab between multiple players))

"Hahahaha!" the two scavengers laughed at Ahnciel's humiliation, before the woman said:

"So, tough guy," she was addressing Reuben, "taking the puppy into your custody, then? You have to be careful; his thickest weapon is his accent." Another laugh.

"Seriously, though," the musclewoman said, "you want him taken out of official custody, we want a bribe. Cyborg you may be, but we can call for backup ina second, and we have EMPs."

The Count interjected before Mr. Reuben could say anything. "Am I hearing what I dare believe I hear? Did official guards of this damnable den of decadence and lecherousness openly say 'bribe'..? Bloody hell, and I thought any of you were halfway decent..."

His mental cogs went to work as he continued talking as a distraction, "At least be subtle, shit. 'Do wrong, right' and all that.". He paused for a moment, "In any case, how much money are we talking? I have a contact with interest in such individuals. 400, base offer."

Reuben had been about to respond to the troublesome scavengers when another organic entered the scene, one Count... Jericho? He clearly believed himself to be extremely important and unlike most of the organics he was armed, with a heavy ballistic pistol no less. Regardless, he was not in any true danger, and he believed the organics were expecting a response. 

Switching on his more serious synthesizer, [color=ed1c24]"-ATTENTION MULTIPLE ORGANICS, YOUR REQUEST FOR MONETARY COMPENSATION IS DENIED, THE SOCIETY OF STEEL DOES NOT CONDONE SUCH ACTIONS. IN ADDITION, THE REMAINING SALVAGE OF THE POD IS YOUR COMPENSATION. AS FOR ORGANIC LIFEFORM CLASSIFIED AS 'COUNT JERICHO' I REQUEST YOU MOVE FROM OUT OF MY PATH AS MY PRIMARY OBJECTIVE LIES BEHIND YOU.-[/color], Reuben very carefully pulled his new charge closer in case things got... complicated.

The mechanical bark from what Ahnciel perceived to be an armored figure made his ears flatten in surprise. He'd been convinced a chink in the armor could provide the relatively sharp hunk of plastic a means to harm them. As Reuben reached for the Aylv, he lifted his arms in self defense and attempted to back up before being grasped and hauled to his feet. The machine's grating tone explained the conflict between custody, divvying up what possessions he had left as well as his own person...and the recorder.
 
With this, Ahnciel's eyes turned to the already scavenged craft and the luxury escape pod which sat in its place. While the technology was a fancy find for the fleet, the interior was a bit worse for wear with smashed consoles and a pentagram painted in blood on the visor. In its current state, the fleet's 'skinners' would let the wreck drift, but its damage wasn't initially apparent. "Zeh recorder really iz not verth keepink" he tried to suggest, ashamed of his actions during the flight and preferring not to be reminded of or share his moments of dimishished faith. However, spitefully, Ahnciel would rather trade the craft for the opportunity to destroy evidence, as the recorded likely contained information that could lead those who scanned it back to the point where he was launched...though 'No Sky' was very likely long gone.

Tactless insults made by the woman who clearly was unaware of who or what Ahnciel was. Her words were met with a glare and bared fangs, though Reuben's grip on his wrist made it a toothless display. It was all the power he had at his disposal to deny giving his name, outright. There would likely be better times for such formalities, and bigger names were already making an appearance, hopefully drawing the attention from himself as he inspected the metallic hand which gripped his arm. If it wasn't for the oversized flight suit, he could have easily accessed his salvage kit as well as expose the photon cannon to easily diffuse the percieved direness of his situation. Until then, he could only wait and hope he was falling into the right hands, helplessly being dragged along like luggage.

"400 -" said the woman, before the Cyborg and Ahnciel interrupted, causing her to glare:

"We'll take the craft, the so-called 'recorder', and any weapons that aren't a plastic shiv. You," she meant Jericho, "take the Genemod. However, in order to go through the motions, we want his robotic arm scanned for any hidden weapons."

The male salvager, who had stayed quiet through all the commotion, brought up a scanning device that looked like a miniature metal detector.

It was faintly obvious that Jericho smiled through his mask, his simple body movements giving away the fact he was pleased with this development. "Lovely. Mr. Cyborg, are you really going to go through myself and start a ruckus? I now have the security of this station on my side.", his smile must've widened, "I can throw you something that would help recuperate the loss, if you'd like. I have access to very interesting spacecraft plans, and my aforementioned employer, Mr. Par, would be just peachy with that." 

Jericho extended his hand for a handshake.

"The previously noted item for the genemodded. Do we have a deal?"

Reuben addressed the scavenger's before he would deal with Jericho, [color=ed1c24]"-INCORRECT, THE FLIGHT RECORDER IS THE PROPERTY OF THE SOCIETY FOR USE IN THE STUDY OF THE PREVIOUSLY UN-RECORDED ORGANIC LIFEFORM. I HAVE NO OBJECTION TO A SCAN OF HIS CYBERNETIC LIMB."[/color], then, quite unexpectedly, the so called 'Count' Jericho made him... an offer.

It was preceded with a threat, implying that he could get the station to deactivate him by force. Following this he offerd what he claimed were 'interesting' spacecraft plans, a pointless offer he did not intend to make and then Par was mentioned. The cyborg tilted his head slightly at this, his mind running through quite a few possibilities, calculating outcomes, assisting him with memory pulled from artificial banks in his skull.

He looked down at the hand the Count had extended but did not take it, [color=ed1c24]"-ORGANIC CREATURE DESIGNATED COUNT JERICHO, YOUR OFFER DENIED. THERE IS NO CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE THAT YOUR OFFER OF SHIP PLANS IS EQUAL OR SUPERIOR TO THE UNKNOWN BIO-ORGANISM. HOWEVER, YOU ARE IN THE EMPLOY OF PARADISE RAPIDS, HEIR TO THE GUILD OF FREE AND FAIR TRADE. I SEEK MISTER RAPIDS, AND REQUEST YOU TAKE ME TO HIM. IN ADDITION THE UNKOWN ORGANIC WILL REMAIN IN MY CUSTODY-"[/color], again he made certain he had a grip on the dog creature's arm, his Haywire rifle was slung over his arm and he was convinced in needs be he could get the weapon free... hopefully he would not need to. He glanced back at his charge, the small organic behind him, [color=ed1c24]"-I REQUEST YOU GIVE ME A FORM OF IDENTIFICATION BY WHICH TO REFER TO YOU IN ORDER TO MORE EASILY COMMUNICATE, CHOOSE THIS IDENTIFICATION NOW OR I WILL SELECT A CALLSIGN FOR YOU.-"[/color]

The notion of having his arm scanned for weapons which the woman sounded intent on taking filled Ahnciel with dread. His appendage was made with plasteel and the determination of the fleet, and he'd be damned if he let it be taken by humans...also he needed it as an arm. Hopefully, the scan wouldn't pick up the tampering to the focus lens which allowed the makeshift flashlight to build into a pulse. In response to Reuben's allowance of the scan to take place, Ahnciel couldn't help but chime in, "[i]I[/i] vould have an objection to a scan ouf my cybernetic limb!"


His tone laced with a growl as his company talked about him as though he was more of an object than a living, thinking entity. This came along with a tug and a wring of his wrist to test the grip of the thing that held him in place. The mentions of names brought an interesting notion that Ahnciel was still unaware of the names of his company besides the menacing human whom the aylv was questioning the integrity of due to his lofty threat of siccing security on the robot. It was turning into a bit of a mess in his opinion. The point of his mission was to meet with the leader, though it was a vague directive that the various separations in human society was quickly complicating things....