Junebug was glad that she had opted to wear the commo helmet. The slightly transulcent faceplate didn't exactly hide her face, but it would certainly make her expressions hard to read. Just now her lips were curled up in a slightly superior smirk. The men before her were toughs, not soldiers, and she gave herself even odds of dropping them with a burst from her submachine gun before they could react. Those odds went up with Neil's help of course, assuming he didn't gun her down in a burst of the almost out of control enthusiasm he seemed to have for his other tasks. Force wasn't a good option here, but she needed to get things off on the right foot. Not a friendly foot necessarily, given the caliber of people they were dealing with.Rather than responding to the local she held a hand up to the side of her helmet as though adjusting a control or pressing an ear piece closer to her ear.

"Hold one Windhoven, dealing with Indig officials," she said to no one. The offical's expression colored with a mixture of rage at being interrupted and confusion at the name of the Terran Destroyer. Sayeeda had chosen Windhoven over the Z-49 because it would be more recognizable to the local. She very much doubted that a docking supervisor knew much about the Terrans or their intentions but he would as sure as the sun was hot know of them.

"You are with the Terrans?" the man asked, some of the certainty going out of his voice as he eyed her equipment, all of it expensive and millitary in nature. What does he think I am? Sayeeda wondered, Black Ops? Intelligence? Courier? It didn't really matter, all that was required was to insert enough uncertainty to smooth the way.

"I am Sayeeda Cyckali, Captain of the Independent ship Highlander," she responded, her tone bright and cheerful with perhaps a trifle more emphasis on 'independent' than was strictly necessary. 

"My crew and I are here to examine market conditions and perhaps purchase samples for off world analysis," she went on in the same crisp professional tone. The guards continued to grip their weapons uncertainly but there was an undercurrent of concern now. People in menial jobs didn't like it when things grew complicated, they weren't paid enough for that and these men certainly weren't paid enough to get messed up in what might or might not be trouble with the TDF.

"As for your two weeks advanced warning, I doubt there is a computer on this shit hole that could tell you what the weather was yesterday, much less organise astrogational requests from a courier service," she said cheerfully, touching the control on her helmet visor to render it completely clear so that the men could see her face, lips curled up in smile which didn't quite reach her eyes. The tone was friendly and cheerful and glass smooth despite the content of the statement. Dealing with the locals didn't change much between the starts and Sayeeda didn't need to work hard to maintain her amused detachment.

"But if you want to search the ship go ahead and waste both our time," she said. Reaching into a pouch she pulled a credit chip from Paxton, one of the nearby trading hubs and flicked it across the few feet that separated it. The coin flashed with prismatic color, it was a round piece the size of a man's eye but it had an empty center in which a hologram hung in a diffraction grating. It was fancier coin than most worlds used, which was why Sayeeda always made sure to have a few coins. The effect would impress the local bumpkins more than the actual value of the coin, although it did represent a significant bribe and, unfortunately, a significant fraction of what might laughingly be referred to as her disposable income. 

Smiling Sayeeda let her hand rest on the receiver of her slung shoulder weapon. It was her experience that you caught more flies with honey and a plasma rifle than with just honey.

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