On the table was a BH2 labor-unit arm Tiber had been tinkering with, its bare circuits open and multi-haztools laying around it. The model wasn't necessarily designed to be modular, but if you took enough time with something you could always refit it for other uses. Under it was an assortment of bills and part orders, along with an old grocery list he apparently hadn't bothered to toss out. He closed the door behind her and raised an eyebrow. 

"They attacked you?" He asked, but immediately he could tell she wasn't joking. He suppose he wasn't surprised now that he heard it. Sabatine wasn't a girl to be pushed around, so she probably just ended what they started. "They dead?" 

Her silence told him all he needed to know. He whistled appreciatively."Yeah, got some Magni." He said, opening up the compartment above the refrigerator and taking out a bottle of golden-brown liquid. It was a a whiskey predominantly made from corn. Something officers loved to drink. He made sure to buy some after he completed his service, like as not a sign he was a free man to drink what he wanted. Pouring two glasses, he handed Sabatine hers and sat down in his chair. 

"I think even if you hid the bodies, they'll be pissed off at you anyway. Yours was the last place they went to before they decided to 'skip the planet'" He said. "Gorm's got the stench of a latine, but he's not stupid." He took a sip of his drink. It burned nicely, going down. "Well, if you need a place to stay you can bunk here. I could set up an automated defense system at your place too..." 

"My guess is, you haven't the ass tribute either. Right?" Sabatine asked, though there was little reason to wait for an answer. "If nothing else, I'm giving you a warning. But... I was hoping for help." 

"Help..." He echoed, absorbing the word. He rubbed his chin and glanced out at his shop. It wasn't much, but it was his. He couldn't risk it going off on some endeavor for the sake of a relatively new neighbor, no matter how much he respected them. "Sab, I got a good thing going here. I don't know if I can-" 

He turned back to her holding up a bill with staggering costs on it. He snapped it out of her hand and folded it. "Ok, so I'm in debt a bit. What does that have to do with us killing a local warlord. Hades, if I cooperate with him he might help me pay for the shop." He said, but he knew he was only trying to convince himself out of what he already decided. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, and he sighed. She was right. He was too proud to pay someone for land he was given as payment for services rendered, and even if he wasn't, he would be subject to the worst hell for abandoning a fellow soldier. Mars wouldn't have it. He pushed out of his chair and strode over to the back wall, his shoulder muscles burgeoning as he unhooked a small latch, revealing a monitor he placed a keyword in. Against the wall, opposite the window, the tiles separated to reveal a small armory of his old war gear. 

At the center was his prized Dobalta, a light guass rifle, retrofitted as a carbine. Alongside it was a gladius of his own, modulated for his own use. On the top of the weapon was a triangular object that encased circuitry, with a switch on it that controlled the power settings to the weapon. Its power-charge magazines ionized the gas into charged plasma within its ignition chamber, fed by an 'extended magazine' he had added. If he willed it, he could reduce firing rate for a close quarters spread shot. Beneath that was a war cultro tactical knife, as well as his old Ultimus Legiones rebreather mask. He wished he still had his armor and helm, but they had taken it from him. 

Sabatine whistled now, and Tiber grinned. "So, what's the plan?"