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Description
New Madrid, Barcelona
Poznan, Prefecture V
Republic of the Sphere
26 June 3132

As far as Juanita knew, there was a Tharonja's restaurant on just about every planet in the Republic. It was a chain of restaurants that offered entirely serviceable food; not brilliant but far from terrible at the same time. Certainly, nobody important or interesting ever went to a Tharonja's, which made it a great place for a wanted criminal to meet someone and know that they weren't likely to be seen by anyone who they didn't want to be seen by.

That suited her perfectly.

She strolled in, looking confident and casual, acting like she owned the place. Plopping down at a booth, she made an act of studying the menu for whole seconds before the waitress turned up.

"I'll have the Tharonja's Deluxe Double Bacon Burger with a side of fries." She all but demanded, not bothering to look at the waitress. "And a Novos-Soda."

Ignoring the waitress' reply, she instead scanned the room. Two days ago, someone had called her, which was a surprise in and of itself. Her number was something she rarely gave out, and she knew who had it. This voice on the other end had not been one of those, which both intrigued and concerned her. He'd arranged to meet her, and let her pick the time and place. She'd said here because of its relative anonymity. That and the burgers were good.

What concerned her more was that he'd stated that he had a proposition for her, a potential line of employment. Given what her current job was and what other people may hire her for, she found that most intriguing. Curiosity had overcome caution, and she'd decided to make the meet. Even then, she'd taken precautions.

The waitress arrived with her drink, Juanita all but looking past her to study the rest of the room. A figure caught her attention; a man who had just stepped in, conspicuous in his inconspicuous approach. Dressed in what could be described as 'business casual', he had a slender face and long black hair tied into a loose ponytail. To top it all off, he was wearing sunglasses indoors.

That's got to be him. She tensed up, ready to take off if needed.

He sat down, nodding to her. "Juanita Kwan, correct?"

"Yeah, and who wants to know?" She shot him a critical glance.

He took off his sunglasses, revealing narrow brown eyes. "My name is Antonin Rybak". He began. "I've been following your work for some time."

"Yeah, and how'd you get this number?" She stated. "It's not something I casually throw about."

"Money talks." He offered. "I'm sure that in your line of work you'd know that already."

"My line of work." She snorted derisively. "What do you know about it?"

"Chicken BLT please." He casually dropped at a passing waitress, before turning back to Juanita. "Quite a lot, actually. Like I said, I have been following your work for some time. That's what bought you to my attention. You have skills that I would find useful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you do, Ms Kwan." He countered. "You and I both know that your current line of work is far from legal and that it's attracted a lot of attention that I'm sure you don't really want."

"Like what?"

"Like your little escapade the other day." He explained. "The one that made front-page across the whole city. That sort of attention."

She nodded slowly. "Well, since I have no idea what you're talking about, you'll have to enlighten me." Fake innocence was obvious in her speech.

"I'm referring to your last joy-ride, Juanita", he began.

"What joyride?"

"You stole a Carbine ConstructionMech-"

"Borrowed." She countered. "I was going to bring it back."

"And went on a joyride through the city, doing thousands of C-Bills damage." He continued, not missing a beat.

"I was checking its gyro calibration. Good thing too, as it was way off."

"Including stepping on the Mayor's limo"

"That was an accident."

"You could be heard laughing from the ground."

"I heard something funny on the radio." It was more of an admission of surrender then an attempt at defence in weight of the evidence.

"Let's not mess around, ms 'Zoom-Zoom' Kwan." His tone was factual, but not forceful, but the use of her nickname suggested that he knew more then he'd let on so far. "You already have a pre-existing juvenile criminal record. You also have numerous other minor and petty convictions, and we both know that the authorities are just looking for a way to make it all stick."

She glanced away from him, the guilt obvious. Regardless, he continued. "You dropped out of high school and even then were a chronic underperformer. You have no formal training and no qualifications. Your career choices are largely limited to a life of future crime or a long stay in prison – and the two are far from mutually exclusive."

Again she said nothing, letting the words sink in. "Despite this, Juanita Kwan, you are clearly skilled, resourceful and intelligent. While you have no formal accreditation, you are a skilled IndustrialMech operator, and you know enough to successfully break into one, over-ride its safety systems and then get it moving."

"And if that was not enough, you have made a career out of it." He stated. "You steal IndustrialMechs. Most of the time you seem to be in the pay of others; stealing Industrials and dropping them off for money. Other times, like the aforesaid moment, you seem to be a joy-rider; you steal an Industrial for the simple sake of it, do some damage and leave it abandoned."

"You have kept ahead of the law, yes, but as I said, that cannot last forever. Nor have you left many options open for yourself. Have you, at any point, considered what you would do with your life otherwise?"

There was a long silence, punctuated only by a loud slurping from Juanita as she finished off the last of her soda. "Not... not really." She admitted. Looking out the window, and avoiding his gaze, she stared at the traffic instead.

"Now given that, as said, you are a lot smarter then you act, I'm also sure that you are aware of this fact. You just simply chose to ignore it. In fact, some less generous individuals might suggest that you were trying to get yourself killed rather than face up to your lack of options."

"Well..." She began, but again trailed off.

"Now I am sure you have some justifying argument." He stated. "I'll admit that I've looked into your background, but not too far. I am sure that you have some motivation – real or imagined – in there. However, I am not going to judge you on that. In fact, I really don't care for your past."

She turned to look at him, an angry glare in her eyes. "So what the hell do you want, ponytail?" Her voice was rising, her temper fraying. Weather it was at his frank assessment and how much the truth of it hurt, or if it was at his dismissal of her reasoning was up for debate. Either way, she didn't like it.

"Simply put, I want you for your skills and knowledge. I want to employ you."

She flopped back in her seat. "So hang on here." Juanita started. "You first point out that what I'm doing is wrong and bad, and then state that I have no future in continuing to do it. Then you tell me you want me to do more of it." She cocked her head. "You're sending out mixed signals here, ponytail."

"If I may explain more thoroughly?"

"Go for it." She shot back. "This should be good."

"You steal Industrials for a living. And yet, have you never once wondered who's buying all of them or why?"

"Should I?" She shrugged. "They pay me. That's all I care."

"How's about this." He offered. "I can offer you a full-time job with a salary. In return for that, you will serve as an investigator of sorts, helping me trace back every last IndustrialMech you've stolen. From there, if that works out, I'll keep you on for other such investigations and, where needed, to use your particular skills."

"Sounds good, but I'm gonna need more." She leaned in close, studying his face. "You're asking me to squeal on people who have been good to me so far. And I'm not going to do that for nothing."

"Entirely fair." The man acknowledged. "So I have another incentive for you, Juanita Kwan. Work for me and I'll make you more than just an IndustrialMech thief. I'll make you a full MechWarrior – with all that it entails."

She blinked at his reply, at a loss for words. Under Stone's disarmament programs, Mech armies had been massively downsized, with many mechs simply scrapped. Real MechWarriors, ones who piloted real BattleMechs, were a rare and privileged elite. The prestige and power in their position alone was incentive enough to drive anyone to aspire to be amongst their ranks.

And his words suggested more. A real BattleMech; not just a modified industrial. To have such wealth, such power... it was something she had never dreamed of. And he was offering it to her.

"Tell me more." She finally spoke up, a hungry, excited tone in her voice.

Trunner, Opilacca
Imbros III, Prefecture I
Republic of the Sphere
1 February 3133

"Well this place sucks" Juanita muttered to herself as she stomped up the stairs. In truth, she had been far from impressed with Trunner ever since she and Antonin had arrived on-planet. While New Madrid had not been one of the nicest cities in the Republic by any means, it was a paradise next to Trunner.

The whole city had a look of run-down neglect, as if nobody cared for it any more. There had clearly been large scale riots in the recent past; lots of burn-out cars, smashed storefronts, gutted buildings and the like. And while she'd seen signs of rebuilding – specifically lots of ConstructionMechs – it was clear that the amount of work so far was dwarfed by what was still to come.

"So why are we here, Ponytail?" She asked as she followed him up the stairs of the run-down apartment complex. After they'd arrived on-world, he'd driven her across town to what had to be the seediest, most run-down and decrepit apartment district she'd ever seen. And, from there, he'd taken her to what she presumed was the crappiest building in the district.

The plain, generic architecture wasn't enough to make it bad, of course. Peeling paint on the walls, unidentifiable stains on the carpet, cracked tiles, missing lights... this place had it all. It was like a smorgasbord of everything wrong with housing projects, both in design and habitation. She figured they were taking the stairs simply because the lift was out of order, and probably had been for decades. Now all this place needs is an overhead rail going past it and it'll have the lot.

"This is the place." Antonin began as he stopped in front of one apartment. The door was no shabbier or neater than any other on a floor that was no better or worse than any other. Opening it, he stepped inside, allowing her into the apartment.

The nicest thing she could say about it was that it was furnished, albeit for rather generous values of 'furnished'. Whomever had provided for it had apparently done so by buying from salvage and thrift stores; everything had a bettered and worn look, with several pieces looking like they had been repaired or patched with other parts. That the lights actually came on seemed a miracle, until she realised that it served to only highlight just how crappy and run-down the apartment was.

"So what do you think?" Antonin asked.

"I think the place stinks, Ponytail" She stated. "It's a run-down cesspool in the middle of a run-down cesspool with no redeeming features whatsoever. It's a horrible hole in the ground that nobody in their right mind would want to live in."

He gave an amused grin, which took her back. "What?" She asked. "What's so damn funny that we tramped halfway across the republic to look at a toilet like this?"

"The place is yours, Juanita" he replied, frankly. "The rent and utilities are all paid for, so you can use as much as the local supply will allow for. Food and such will be paid out of an account I've set up. I also have a job for you. It's not much, but in the local economy, having a job is a luxury. You're a dishwasher at a local Tharonjas; you start on Monday."

She blinked at his statement. "You what?" She began. "You dragged me halfway across the Republic for a hole in the ground apartment and a crappy dead-end job?" The anger was obvious in her voice, her tone rising. "If this is meant to be some object lesson about my future if I stick to my life of crime, then you're going to insane lengths for it, Ponytail."

In response, he laughed, which only made her angrier still. "You're close to the mark, ms Kwan." He stated. "Yes, this is related to your life of crime. No, it's not some form of bizarre punishment. Trust me, there is a point to it."

He sat down at what could be charitably called the dinner table, offering her a seat. Dumping her pack – which contained most of her worldly goods, she sat down next to him. "So talk to me, Ponytail. What's the big deal?"

"All things in good time." He stated. "And yes, the training you went through was for a point. I want you to be able to handle a mech in battle and, if needs be, its weapons systems. But for now, your reason for being here is related to your old life"

She didn't like the way he said 'old life', but let him continue. "A number of the IndustrailMechs you were paid to steal were purchased by a single buyer, albeit through third parties. I traced a number of them to this one world, but the trail went cold there."

He looked her in the eye. "That's where you come in. Someone has to have a good reason for shipping a number of black market Industrials to a single planet. I personally suspect that, along the way, they've put more then a few of them through combat modifications – arming them, equipping them with military-grade electronics and so on. And they probably have a very, very good reason for that."

She nodded. "And you want me to find out why."

"Exactly." He finished. "While I know you are not local to Imbross, at the same time, you have a lot of experience in the field of IndustrialMech theft and the underground industry around it. Your task will be to infiltrate the local crime scene and to find out what's going on."

"And, if needs be, to steal the Industrials back?" She spoke up.

"Exactly." He finished. "We have no idea what they're doing. But I want every means to deal with it that's available to me."

"So we assume that someone's building a private army." She leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. "You don't think the Imbross militia is up to handling it?"

"Debatable" Antonin shook his head. "The militia has been chronically underfunded for years. Their equipment is run-down, their troop quality lacking and their response times are non-existent. Added to that, since the blackout they've been bleeding off troops to private recruiters. If someone were to launch a surprise attack on the city, then they would be hard pressed to mount an effective resistance."

"So in other words, if the bad guys do something, I'd be the first line of defence." She offered.

"If you can find them"

"Oh trust me, I will." She shot back.

"Excellent work. I'll be working here as well, so I'll never be out of contact. I'll give you a communicator with my number programmed in, and if you need anything else-"

"Well-"

"-Within reason-"

"Poop" She finished.

"-then let me know and I'll do what I can. Your job is just a cover to help obscure the trail coming from it. But who knows, you may learn something there."

"Yeah, that I hate washing dishes." She smirked.

"So is there anything else you need?" He asked.

"One question. Why set me up in this hellhole? I'm sure you could do better."

He laughed. "Because a girl in a nice house with a cushy job asking about stolen Industrials would look way, way to suspicious. But one who is barely scraping by with a dead-end job while living in a hellhole? You're a natural."

"Point." She admitted. "I'll give you that much. But this had better be worth it, Ponytail"

"I'm sure it will be." He finished.

Description
New Madrid, Barcelona
Poznan, Prefecture V
Republic of the Sphere
26 June 3132

As far as Juanita knew, there was a Tharonja's restaurant on just about every planet in the Republic. It was a chain of restaurants that offered entirely serviceable food; not brilliant but far from terrible at the same time. Certainly, nobody important or interesting ever went to a Tharonja's, which made it a great place for a wanted criminal to meet someone and know that they weren't likely to be seen by anyone who they didn't want to be seen by.

That suited her perfectly.

She strolled in, looking confident and casual, acting like she owned the place. Plopping down at a booth, she made an act of studying the menu for whole seconds before the waitress turned up.

"I'll have the Tharonja's Deluxe Double Bacon Burger with a side of fries." She all but demanded, not bothering to look at the waitress. "And a Novos-Soda."

Ignoring the waitress' reply, she instead scanned the room. Two days ago, someone had called her, which was a surprise in and of itself. Her number was something she rarely gave out, and she knew who had it. This voice on the other end had not been one of those, which both intrigued and concerned her. He'd arranged to meet her, and let her pick the time and place. She'd said here because of its relative anonymity. That and the burgers were good.

What concerned her more was that he'd stated that he had a proposition for her, a potential line of employment. Given what her current job was and what other people may hire her for, she found that most intriguing. Curiosity had overcome caution, and she'd decided to make the meet. Even then, she'd taken precautions.

The waitress arrived with her drink, Juanita all but looking past her to study the rest of the room. A figure caught her attention; a man who had just stepped in, conspicuous in his inconspicuous approach. Dressed in what could be described as 'business casual', he had a slender face and long black hair tied into a loose ponytail. To top it all off, he was wearing sunglasses indoors.

That's got to be him. She tensed up, ready to take off if needed.

He sat down, nodding to her. "Juanita Kwan, correct?"

"Yeah, and who wants to know?" She shot him a critical glance.

He took off his sunglasses, revealing narrow brown eyes. "My name is Antonin Rybak". He began. "I've been following your work for some time."

"Yeah, and how'd you get this number?" She stated. "It's not something I casually throw about."

"Money talks." He offered. "I'm sure that in your line of work you'd know that already."

"My line of work." She snorted derisively. "What do you know about it?"

"Chicken BLT please." He casually dropped at a passing waitress, before turning back to Juanita. "Quite a lot, actually. Like I said, I have been following your work for some time. That's what bought you to my attention. You have skills that I would find useful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you do, Ms Kwan." He countered. "You and I both know that your current line of work is far from legal and that it's attracted a lot of attention that I'm sure you don't really want."

"Like what?"

"Like your little escapade the other day." He explained. "The one that made front-page across the whole city. That sort of attention."

She nodded slowly. "Well, since I have no idea what you're talking about, you'll have to enlighten me." Fake innocence was obvious in her speech.

"I'm referring to your last joy-ride, Juanita", he began.

"What joyride?"

"You stole a Carbine ConstructionMech-"

"Borrowed." She countered. "I was going to bring it back."

"And went on a joyride through the city, doing thousands of C-Bills damage." He continued, not missing a beat.

"I was checking its gyro calibration. Good thing too, as it was way off."

"Including stepping on the Mayor's limo"

"That was an accident."

"You could be heard laughing from the ground."

"I heard something funny on the radio." It was more of an admission of surrender then an attempt at defence in weight of the evidence.

"Let's not mess around, ms 'Zoom-Zoom' Kwan." His tone was factual, but not forceful, but the use of her nickname suggested that he knew more then he'd let on so far. "You already have a pre-existing juvenile criminal record. You also have numerous other minor and petty convictions, and we both know that the authorities are just looking for a way to make it all stick."

She glanced away from him, the guilt obvious. Regardless, he continued. "You dropped out of high school and even then were a chronic underperformer. You have no formal training and no qualifications. Your career choices are largely limited to a life of future crime or a long stay in prison – and the two are far from mutually exclusive."

Again she said nothing, letting the words sink in. "Despite this, Juanita Kwan, you are clearly skilled, resourceful and intelligent. While you have no formal accreditation, you are a skilled IndustrialMech operator, and you know enough to successfully break into one, over-ride its safety systems and then get it moving."

"And if that was not enough, you have made a career out of it." He stated. "You steal IndustrialMechs. Most of the time you seem to be in the pay of others; stealing Industrials and dropping them off for money. Other times, like the aforesaid moment, you seem to be a joy-rider; you steal an Industrial for the simple sake of it, do some damage and leave it abandoned."

"You have kept ahead of the law, yes, but as I said, that cannot last forever. Nor have you left many options open for yourself. Have you, at any point, considered what you would do with your life otherwise?"

There was a long silence, punctuated only by a loud slurping from Juanita as she finished off the last of her soda. "Not... not really." She admitted. Looking out the window, and avoiding his gaze, she stared at the traffic instead.

"Now given that, as said, you are a lot smarter then you act, I'm also sure that you are aware of this fact. You just simply chose to ignore it. In fact, some less generous individuals might suggest that you were trying to get yourself killed rather than face up to your lack of options."

"Well..." She began, but again trailed off.

"Now I am sure you have some justifying argument." He stated. "I'll admit that I've looked into your background, but not too far. I am sure that you have some motivation – real or imagined – in there. However, I am not going to judge you on that. In fact, I really don't care for your past."

She turned to look at him, an angry glare in her eyes. "So what the hell do you want, ponytail?" Her voice was rising, her temper fraying. Weather it was at his frank assessment and how much the truth of it hurt, or if it was at his dismissal of her reasoning was up for debate. Either way, she didn't like it.

"Simply put, I want you for your skills and knowledge. I want to employ you."

She flopped back in her seat. "So hang on here." Juanita started. "You first point out that what I'm doing is wrong and bad, and then state that I have no future in continuing to do it. Then you tell me you want me to do more of it." She cocked her head. "You're sending out mixed signals here, ponytail."

"If I may explain more thoroughly?"

"Go for it." She shot back. "This should be good."

"You steal Industrials for a living. And yet, have you never once wondered who's buying all of them or why?"

"Should I?" She shrugged. "They pay me. That's all I care."

"How's about this." He offered. "I can offer you a full-time job with a salary. In return for that, you will serve as an investigator of sorts, helping me trace back every last IndustrialMech you've stolen. From there, if that works out, I'll keep you on for other such investigations and, where needed, to use your particular skills."

"Sounds good, but I'm gonna need more." She leaned in close, studying his face. "You're asking me to squeal on people who have been good to me so far. And I'm not going to do that for nothing."

"Entirely fair." The man acknowledged. "So I have another incentive for you, Juanita Kwan. Work for me and I'll make you more than just an IndustrialMech thief. I'll make you a full MechWarrior – with all that it entails."

She blinked at his reply, at a loss for words. Under Stone's disarmament programs, Mech armies had been massively downsized, with many mechs simply scrapped. Real MechWarriors, ones who piloted real BattleMechs, were a rare and privileged elite. The prestige and power in their position alone was incentive enough to drive anyone to aspire to be amongst their ranks.

And his words suggested more. A real BattleMech; not just a modified industrial. To have such wealth, such power... it was something she had never dreamed of. And he was offering it to her.

"Tell me more." She finally spoke up, a hungry, excited tone in her voice.

Trunner, Opilacca
Imbros III, Prefecture I
Republic of the Sphere
1 February 3133

"Well this place sucks" Juanita muttered to herself as she stomped up the stairs. In truth, she had been far from impressed with Trunner ever since she and Antonin had arrived on-planet. While New Madrid had not been one of the nicest cities in the Republic by any means, it was a paradise next to Trunner.

The whole city had a look of run-down neglect, as if nobody cared for it any more. There had clearly been large scale riots in the recent past; lots of burn-out cars, smashed storefronts, gutted buildings and the like. And while she'd seen signs of rebuilding – specifically lots of ConstructionMechs – it was clear that the amount of work so far was dwarfed by what was still to come.

"So why are we here, Ponytail?" She asked as she followed him up the stairs of the run-down apartment complex. After they'd arrived on-world, he'd driven her across town to what had to be the seediest, most run-down and decrepit apartment district she'd ever seen. And, from there, he'd taken her to what she presumed was the crappiest building in the district.

The plain, generic architecture wasn't enough to make it bad, of course. Peeling paint on the walls, unidentifiable stains on the carpet, cracked tiles, missing lights... this place had it all. It was like a smorgasbord of everything wrong with housing projects, both in design and habitation. She figured they were taking the stairs simply because the lift was out of order, and probably had been for decades. Now all this place needs is an overhead rail going past it and it'll have the lot.

"This is the place." Antonin began as he stopped in front of one apartment. The door was no shabbier or neater than any other on a floor that was no better or worse than any other. Opening it, he stepped inside, allowing her into the apartment.

The nicest thing she could say about it was that it was furnished, albeit for rather generous values of 'furnished'. Whomever had provided for it had apparently done so by buying from salvage and thrift stores; everything had a bettered and worn look, with several pieces looking like they had been repaired or patched with other parts. That the lights actually came on seemed a miracle, until she realised that it served to only highlight just how crappy and run-down the apartment was.

"So what do you think?" Antonin asked.

"I think the place stinks, Ponytail" She stated. "It's a run-down cesspool in the middle of a run-down cesspool with no redeeming features whatsoever. It's a horrible hole in the ground that nobody in their right mind would want to live in."

He gave an amused grin, which took her back. "What?" She asked. "What's so damn funny that we tramped halfway across the republic to look at a toilet like this?"

"The place is yours, Juanita" he replied, frankly. "The rent and utilities are all paid for, so you can use as much as the local supply will allow for. Food and such will be paid out of an account I've set up. I also have a job for you. It's not much, but in the local economy, having a job is a luxury. You're a dishwasher at a local Tharonjas; you start on Monday."

She blinked at his statement. "You what?" She began. "You dragged me halfway across the Republic for a hole in the ground apartment and a crappy dead-end job?" The anger was obvious in her voice, her tone rising. "If this is meant to be some object lesson about my future if I stick to my life of crime, then you're going to insane lengths for it, Ponytail."

In response, he laughed, which only made her angrier still. "You're close to the mark, ms Kwan." He stated. "Yes, this is related to your life of crime. No, it's not some form of bizarre punishment. Trust me, there is a point to it."

He sat down at what could be charitably called the dinner table, offering her a seat. Dumping her pack – which contained most of her worldly goods, she sat down next to him. "So talk to me, Ponytail. What's the big deal?"

"All things in good time." He stated. "And yes, the training you went through was for a point. I want you to be able to handle a mech in battle and, if needs be, its weapons systems. But for now, your reason for being here is related to your old life"

She didn't like the way he said 'old life', but let him continue. "A number of the IndustrailMechs you were paid to steal were purchased by a single buyer, albeit through third parties. I traced a number of them to this one world, but the trail went cold there."

He looked her in the eye. "That's where you come in. Someone has to have a good reason for shipping a number of black market Industrials to a single planet. I personally suspect that, along the way, they've put more then a few of them through combat modifications – arming them, equipping them with military-grade electronics and so on. And they probably have a very, very good reason for that."

She nodded. "And you want me to find out why."

"Exactly." He finished. "While I know you are not local to Imbross, at the same time, you have a lot of experience in the field of IndustrialMech theft and the underground industry around it. Your task will be to infiltrate the local crime scene and to find out what's going on."

"And, if needs be, to steal the Industrials back?" She spoke up.

"Exactly." He finished. "We have no idea what they're doing. But I want every means to deal with it that's available to me."

"So we assume that someone's building a private army." She leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. "You don't think the Imbross militia is up to handling it?"

"Debatable" Antonin shook his head. "The militia has been chronically underfunded for years. Their equipment is run-down, their troop quality lacking and their response times are non-existent. Added to that, since the blackout they've been bleeding off troops to private recruiters. If someone were to launch a surprise attack on the city, then they would be hard pressed to mount an effective resistance."

"So in other words, if the bad guys do something, I'd be the first line of defence." She offered.

"If you can find them"

"Oh trust me, I will." She shot back.

"Excellent work. I'll be working here as well, so I'll never be out of contact. I'll give you a communicator with my number programmed in, and if you need anything else-"

"Well-"

"-Within reason-"

"Poop" She finished.

"-then let me know and I'll do what I can. Your job is just a cover to help obscure the trail coming from it. But who knows, you may learn something there."

"Yeah, that I hate washing dishes." She smirked.

"So is there anything else you need?" He asked.

"One question. Why set me up in this hellhole? I'm sure you could do better."

He laughed. "Because a girl in a nice house with a cushy job asking about stolen Industrials would look way, way to suspicious. But one who is barely scraping by with a dead-end job while living in a hellhole? You're a natural."

"Point." She admitted. "I'll give you that much. But this had better be worth it, Ponytail"

"I'm sure it will be." He finished.