[color=FFB435]”Fine.”[/color] Astrid growled beneath the fabric of her headgear, [color=FFB435]”But if it comes to that, I’m a lousy shot, so consider yourselves warned.”[/color] she slid a magazine into her rifle, going for hollow points to mitigate ricochets and unwanted penetration. [color=FFB435]”Why thank you, captain. Hours of unpaid work rack up like mad, but a compliment is always welcome.”[/color]

Once thrust into the mill that was the street, she mostly focused on making sure everything that was in her pockets stayed there, especially the pad with the mission critical DNA scanner. Its silence brought peace to her mind as she pondered with just how big a chunk of sodium chloride should she take the slugman’s claim of ‘Best bar in the galaxy’ It turned out a shovel wouldn’t have been anywhere near enough.

Fortunately, the fabric of her headwear blocked some of the stench, but even a diluted whiff of the bar’s ‘charm’ made her realize just how fragile spacers - used to controlled conditions like low exposure to electromagnetic radiation and air filtered almost to sterility - like her were. At least artificial gravity was a thing, otherwise she’d probably be dying due to a weakened heart and being crushed by local gravity right about now.

But she wasn’t entirely out of her element. Shady people and smuggling was something she was familiar with to a certain degree. Leaving the people part to someone more suited to it, she tried her best to see around the taller patrons, looking for tell-tale signs of mechanics: Stained or burned-through clothing, coveralls, utility patches- There. Male with burns on his hands and a 28 mm nut wrench and a screwdriver hanging from his belt. Common practice among gearheads who couldn’t get their hands - or whatever equivalent - on proper weapons for one reason or another. Not that anyone would argue about it with a screwdriver through their palm or a wrench the size of a human forearm flying at their face. He was yhei. Great. [color=FFB435]”Five credits say Tony will be the first to get anywhere with this.”[/color] she uttered to the crew, wondering how Rendyl was supposed to talk to others. Sure, she could [i]communicate[/i] in a way, but that could present a bit of an obstacle if their goal was to keep a somewhat low profile. Astrid made her way to the frogman, again checking the DNA scanner while trying to string together a line of bullshit to get the lizardman talking along the way. [color=FFB435]”Ouch.”[/color] she didn’t bother to pull a sympathetic face on account of the shemagh, [color=FFB435]”How’d one of the high and mighty yhei engineers get coolant burns? Let me guess: GX series coolant regulation valve not standing up to advertising?”[/color] She never would’ve thought that time her own ship tried to kill her would be useful someday. [color=FFB435]”Could use a replacement myself while I'm stuck here. You wouldn't happen to know a good place for parts, would you? Prices in the core systems are blody insane.”[/color]