[center][h3]Ziska[/h3][/center]

"High alert this, high alert that, and not even so much as a brawl," Ziska fumed from a corner of the cavern. Crouched over battered set of heatsinks, she presided over a fresh bottle of vodka and several small glasses filled to the brim. Gathered around her sat an obviously bored Astech Sunther and an uncomfortable looking Astech Minhas.

"Perhaps, you would let us return to our work," Sunther began.

"No, drink."

"B- but Ziska, we've already had-" Minhas began, her cheeks flush with fresh color.

"Drink," Ziska said, her eyes staying coldly on the two intruders. Intruders was the right word. Business proposals were well and good, but Ziska had begun to despair at the influx of uninvited guests, however well intentions they might have been. It was becoming a pattern. A new pattern Ziska did not like. And a pattern she considered might have to be resolved with the correct application of deadly violence.

Picking one of the shot glass up with her left hand, Ziska offered quick nod to her Astechs before swallowing the burning liquid in a fell swoop. Sunther managed only a slight cough, burying his mouth in the crook of his arm, and Minhas to her credit, made only a very pained expression as she drank the fiery spirit. As if reading her thoughts, Minhas looked warily at the pistol laying within easy reach of Ziska's right hand. The safety was off and Ziska flashed the smallest of smiles at the young Astech. Periphery knew Periphery. Pirate knew pirate. Minhas, kind, blissfully sheltered Minhas, knew better than most how Ziska perceived problems, and how she preferred to solve them.

The suit dressed out of a magazine didn't interest Ziska. Money was money. She didn't care much as long as the c-bills arrived in a timely and discreet fashion. The man she had brought with her did. He looked capable. He walked like a soldier. He smelled like a mercenary. MechWarrior, maybe, Ziska thought, summoning a brief flame of interest. She was bored, but there were ways to deal with that.

Running a hand over the fresh layer of bandages that covered Doctor Yuri's clever work, Ziska almost forgot that she had recently smashed her head against unwavering metal. Nakajima was good, better than good even. She owed her a drink. Something tasteful. Something from her festive stock.

Standing, Ziska walked leisurely towards the two strangers and crowd of Green Knights pretending not to be eavesdropping on the conversation unfolding in the makeshift hangar. She spotted one of Dalton's finest fiddling with a pack of cigarettes and snatched them from his hands before the man had a chance to react. Dancing just out of range, she shot the annoyed looking soldier a sly smile, as she faded to the edge of the crowed. Stealing a lighter from a nearby Astech, Ziska pulled a cigarette out of the pack. 

Lighting the cigarette, Ziska took a closer look at Cassandra. She talked the talk and Ziska wasn't inclined to doubt that she walked the walk. She'd pay them, probably, and she was only lying as much as could be expected from a corporate executive. Better a new employer than no employer at any rate. And Ziska had never liked the late Governor Xiu very much. Ziska had no patience for incompetence. Morality was no concern to Ziska. She knew how to forget and shift her perspective easily enough. Being alive was more important than being right. Dead was dead. Incompetence killed. Losing control was fatal. Flinching, flinching for even a moment was deadly.

[i]Water[/i], Ziska thought, puffing out a lazy cloud of smoke. Water was everything.

Water was the first thing needed to fight a war. Water on a planet like Espia was power. The Aqua Vitae Corporation, this Jeong standing in front of them, [i]interviewing[/i] them, controlled the water, on paper if not in reality. They would have information. They would have resources. A way to keep fighting. A way off the planet, maybe. And a way to leave the Crimson Fists dying slowly if it came to that. Planet and civilian population be damned.

Smiling at the fighting man standing casually next to Cassandra, Ziska pocketed the pack of cigarettes. [i]Nothing was free[/i]. Nothing was free when you came uninvited.