The squad arrived on the ramp with good timing, everyone turning up and looking the part of at least a crew on leave, if not civilians. He also noted with some satisfaction that everyone had done a great job of concealing their weaponry, armour and other gear. 
"Okay folks," he said leading them away from the ramp entrance to the hangar, leaving it free for the movement of personnel and vehicles loading and unloading supplies. He drew them up short on the quayside, next to a pile or empty crates and barrels, leaning against them as he spoke. "We're down to pretty uneven numbers," he began. "And we need to keep some force in reserve, in case we get inta trouble. So, here's how it's gonna go. Nathaniel, Naida and Ed will remain behind on the ship with Irry; Irry's GEAR will be armed for close-in support, so it can cover the ATV and a truck to extract us if things go to hell. Which, let's hope they sure as hell don't. He paused to light a cigar, and took a drag off of it before he continued. "Here's how I'm gonna split y'all up. Keel, you're with me. Nawlin, you and Sykes are buddying up. Aihara, Captain Sprinsteam and Maxwell; you form the final team". He paused to look around their faces, his expression set. 
"No arguments about the teams; deal with it." 
He carried on without missing a beat.
"Aihara, Sprinsteam, Maxwell: you three have the biggest area to cover: the market. Watch out for pickpockets as well as your targets.
"Keel, you an' I will be checkin' out the docks and warehouses. We're gonna have to do a bit of actin' and posin'. Should be entertainin' enough.
"Nawlin, you and Sykes hit the bars an' dives in th' middle of town. Remember: we're tryin' ta pick up the buzz, chit-chat and rumours. Keep an eye out fer anyone who looks out of place... and try not to get drunk, or thrown out.
"Anythin' that might lead us onta any trace of those guys responsible fer th' hit an' run. The data on the drive is what we have to go on: They're an elite Northener unit. They may be undercover as mercs, or civvies. An' we have the suspicion there's that second force too, whoever they are, also hidin' out. Any an' all of them will be lookin' ta stock up on parts, equipment, ammo and fuel. Not to mention intel, and maybe even fake ID's and passes to move between the borders." He paused again, glancing over their heads to look at the roofs of the town stretching away. 
"This place is friendly enough on the surface, but it's got a dark underbelly ta watch out for. People who ain't even who we're lookin' for might try an' jump ya - but I know y'all can look after yerselves. There's a lotta rumours in a place like this, an' askin' the right questions will get ya answers. So will being good-natured and favourin' the merchants and hosts, or greasin' the right palms. I made sure y'all have access to a 'special fund' fer the mission, authorised by command, given the stakes involved." he grinned deadpan. "...spend it - we don't get freebies often. But remember, try not to stand out. I also uploaded a couple of well-known less-than-savoury haunts around the area based on info from th' Net an' various other sources. Check 'em out too, but be careful. Remember; keep in regular contact. If any one of the groups misses two consecutive check-ins, the other two converge on their location. Don't fire first, unless it's in self-defence, either. We're armed, but remember - if we can do this without firin' a shot, then we're doin' a damn good job. Nothin' else ta say - let's get to it".
Silverwind dismissed them, and headed toward the exit from the Landcruisers' berth, and onto the wide, dusty street outside. Nondescript warehouses, factories and other industrial buildings formed the bulk of buildings in the immediate area, wide avenues interspersed between them, choked with vehicles, groups of people and roadside stalls or carts selling things or stacked with possessions and items. 
The sheer variety of Arvaran species on display was staggering, and the hubbub of voices and noise was constant; not quite enough to be deafening, but certainly a near-constant background rumble of sound, especially this close to the Landcruiser docks. 
Bidding goodbyes to the others with a nod, he beckoned for Adrian to follow, as he headed off in parallel to the dockside wall, the buildings on their right-hand side. 
"Okay," he said as they walked, glancing between faces and the scenery as he spoke. "There's a shippin' an' handlin' company two blocks down. Intel suggests they tend to be a little involved wi' underhanded deals, an' a front fer smugglin' into the Empire. I reckon we go in, an' make like we're tryin' ta score ourselves a coupla passes, an' see what we uncover. Mebbe one of us acts all keen, and the other reluctant, try and lure 'em inta sayin about previous business?"

***

The Market Place was choked and busy - stalls with food of all kinds were clustered in the middle, many of them cooking their ways for hungry shoppers and browsers, and adding a diverse array of scents and perfumes to the air to mingle with the scents of the patrons and sellers themselves, and all of their wares. Towards the edges and the darker alleys of the market place were the more 'questionable' goods; GEAR parts, electronics, armaments and ammunition, and other such shady dealings. And then there were the people who didn't have stalls, but stood, hands in pockets, around the stalls in shadows and studied people passing by. Occasionally credit details were exchanged, and whispered words, or fleeting data swipes exchanged on battered, black-market PADDs. 
Through a momentary gap in the crowd, a large, square-shouldered Black-furred vulpine was seen, moving with two smaller fellows toward one of the GEAR parts traders.

***

Toward the centre of town, the bustle died down. Here, the streets were more regularly paved, the pedestrians confined to the sidewalk, and the vehicles moving at less of a frantic pace through the streets. Shaded doorways to stores and businesses invited people in out of the ever-present Badlands sun and dust. Many of the stores claimed to be boutiques, and sold exotic goods; bespoke hand-tailored clothing, high-end electrical goods, choice foods and drink. Others were fine-dining restaurants, lavish grooming parlours or theatres. 
All of this, of course, was on the main drags - on the side roads, things tried to emulate the same class, but had their own layer of grime; titty-bars paraded as 'gentlemen's clubs', and jostled for space with greasy-spoon diners and mystery-meat butchers with stained counter-tops. Pawn shops competed with Porn shops and bars with glass on the pavement that crunched underfoot outside newly-fitted windows. Basement bars with slippery, vomit-stained steps and hulking cybernetically-enhanced bouncers squatted at the bottom of apartment buildings with charming names - and barred doors. 
All three of the bars Silverwind had given names of were in the side-streets. One was a Bar-and-grill that looked less likely to be the source of a riot, with its' red formica-topped tables and clean floors. Music played from a jukebox, and the bar was clean. However, the grim nature of the patrons, who clustered in small groups around the tables suggested otherwise. The most interesting feature was a slinky, female mink with military-short hair propping up one end of the bar, reading through a PADD and occasionally glancing up at the overhead screens showing the news.
One of the others was a basement bar that had sweaty walls and a sticky floor, and had an ever-present cloud of smoke hovering near the lights. In the middle, a group of men and woman all clad in similar leather jackets, GEAR-pilot boots, combat pants and vests argued over a game of cards.
The last was an open fronted place that was ariy and bright, with faux-tropical decor, and a vast array of possibly life-threatening decor, and a lot of shady corners, along with a one-eyed, gap-toothed bartender who grinned at them as they walked in. 
The most curious thing was the group at the far end of the bar; all of them were strikingly good-looking and fit, despite their rough-and-tumble civilian dress, and they constantly talked in low voices to one another, occasionally glancing around.