Has'la walked down the road, traveling westward. He had left Houston the day before, and salvaged the few buildings that they came across. While most were picked clean, they did manage to find a storm cellar that most salvagers had missed. He had picked up a pair of boots, a few packs of cigarettes, and the like. It wasn't much, but it would buy them a room for the night and a hot meal. He stepped off of the road as a large truck drove by him. It was a pre-apocalyptic military truck by the looks of it, an old diesel vehicle. They weren't that rare, as suitable fuels were easy to produce. The truck was escorted by four Jeep Lightnings, all-electric vehicles with the classic Jeep military look.

An hour later he saw the town on the horizon, with the hill overlooking it covered in Vertical Axis Wind Turbines. A few minutes later they came to a booth at the side of the road with a cable from the wind turbines running to it. A older model, and more worn Lightning was parked beside the booth. The booth was covered in charge cells, and a man sat behind it. "Excuse me, could I get some cells charged?" He laid a few depleted cells on the counter.

"Sure," the man said, picking the cells up. He plugged them into a charging station and, a few seconds later, pulled them back out. "1.3 Valn."

Has'la placed his wristcomp near the mans device and transferred the currency through it. The man used an Iphone 9 by the looks of it. An outdated piece of PA tech, but for transferring currency and simple communications it was sufficient. "Anything you like?" asked the man behind the booth, seeing Has'la looking over the cells on his stand.

"Not really, I was hoping you would have a high-capacity cells, but you don't have any."

"Actually, a trader just arrived a little while ago. He usually brings a few with him, to sell to the people in the town. I wish Icould go get a few, but if I leave the booth others will come by to steal power."

"Speaking of that," said Has'la, "Why do you have so many VAWTs?"

"The town and the Uranium mine need as much as we can give them. Solar isn't powerful enough, there's no Hydro around here, and my brother, his wife, and I don't have the skills needed to keep anything more complex running. We even have to ship the ore to Houston for refinement, as we don't have the power to refine it here, and if we ran a power line out here the bandits would just cut it."

Has'la nodded. "In that case, I should get to town and see about buying one of those Ion charge cells. See you later."

"Yeah, see ya." the man said as he walked away.

Neptune strolled around the "street", looking at the small buildings that made up the settlement. He took note every day of the fact that this place could look better, but at the same time, the place looked better than many of the places he had seen out there. Plus, for as long as he had been here at least, there hadn't been hardly any conflict. The place showed signs of having relatively little recent battles. That either meant that this place was in a geographic sweet spot that made it undesirable or unnoticeable to the ill-willed people out there, ot they had een lucky. And luck only lasts so far.

Neptune looked over at a pair of men hanging out in front of the bar. One of hem he recognized as a regular to the establishment, but the other guy he didn't know. The guy did give him a look that a criminal would have given a cop before the apocalypse. Neptune caught the look and decided to stop by and check things out. "Stan," he said with a nod.

"I've told you time and time again, I hate when people shorten my name. It's Stanislaus," replied the man Neptune recognized.

"Stan's just easier. I'm sure you understand, Stan. Who's your friend?"

"He's no one. Just a passerby asking for directions."

"I see... Well, good talking to you." Neptune said, walking away once more. The guy had either a problem with authority ir something he was trying to hide. Hopefully it is the former, but keeping an eye on a suspicious character gave him something to do. He decided not to go to far and wait.

It had been too long since she'd had a real rest. Her old Jeep Lightning was in desperate need of maintenance, although at this point calling it a Jeep anything was just nostalgia. Her Jeep had been rebuilt countless times and most of its parts were made from scrap metal and salvaged tech from wrecks. It was built to last but still always sounded like it was minutes from falling to pieces. Assorted panels of different alloys and materials were a testemant to it's patchwork assembly. Still it was hers and most lone salvagers didn't have their own vehicle.

She cruised down the highway passing a charge station and a young human male on her way in to the city. Something about him caught her eye as she drove past. He looked to be close to his late twenties maybe thrity and by his gear she could tell that he was probably a salvager like her. Humans were good at adapting to change, it was something she envied about them. Most Azurians didn't see past their own caste and an unmarked low-born like T'Lora was just dust in the wind to the aristocrats back home. People on Earth looked at you differently. It didn't matter where you were born or what clan you happened to belong to here. Everyone was just trying to get by in their own way, even if that way meant preying on the weak.

She passed a lot of houses on her way to the open market and even passed a bar. It wasn't anything special and was only noteworthy because it was the only building on the street that looked like an actual building instead of the rusted aluminum siding that most of the homes were made of. At least now she knew where to go when she wanted to get drunk.

As Has'la approached the town, an old Jeep passed him, driven by an Azurian woman. She must be doing good for herself. he thought. Few people could afford a private vehicle. While the guy at the power station and the trader could afford them, they were much richer than the average townsperson. Judging by the cobbled-together nature of the vehicle, the alien woman was likely a skilled salvager, not one of the aliens that had come to Earth to fill the need for skilled workers.

When he reached the town center about fifteen minutes later he found the trader that had driven by him. A few people were gathered round, looking at the merchandise he had brought with him, but the security guards made sure that none of them decided to pocket anything. Instead of looking at the goods on the table, Has'la walked up to the trader. "Excuse me, but do you have any high capacity ion charge cells?" he said.

"Sorry, just sold my last one."

"Well, then, do you have any ion fluid for them?" He asked. If you knew what you were doing, you could upgrade low-grade cells to double their capacity, but not increase their maximum charge or discharge rate.

"I don't have any with me, but I do have some back at my shop. Ten liter minimum on a special order of it, though."

"I can't use that much," said Has'la, "but I'm always coming across old, dead cells as salvage. Let me think about it. Can I get your contact code?"

After getting the Trader's contact info, he thanked the man and went in search of the alien woman that had passed him. He passed a blue haired security guard that was watching two hoodlums in town. He didn't bother the man, though, as annoying a security guard while he was staking out criminals was a very bad idea.

"Hi." he said, walking up to the alien woman, "nice Jeep. Looks like a per-apocalypse gas-burner that was refit with Lightning parts, possibly during the first ten years after it." For the first decade or so after the apocalypse, the single functional Jeep factory mostly worked on adapting the Lightning tech to newer and older tech, so that it could be used to refit old vessels with parts that would remain reverse compatible for centuries. He needed help and a vehicle if he was going to get to the salvage he had found, though. Even he wouldn't be able to cross such a hot zone on foot in time. "You look like a skilled salvager. I guess it's kind of unusual since you don't know me, but care to team up? I know where there's a fairly fresh Zathuran security patrol ship in a rad zone. With your vehicle and a few rad-resistance chems we could get inside the ship before getting badly irradiated. Once inside, we'll be able to pull more salvage than you've likely ever seen." True, it might be a bit stupid to tell a complete stranger about such a valuable find, but she didn't know where it was, and he really needed help and a vehicle if he was going to be able to salvage it. Maybe some extra muscle, too. Old, fresh, finds like that tended to have relatively intact automated security systems.

The sound of a running motor was hard to miss. Rolling down the road was a very rough looking vehicle. It almost looked homemade, and Neptune wouldn't have been surprised if it was considering the driver. An off-worlder whose blue skin color matched the shade of blue that was his natural hair color. He made note f this as he turned to see Stan and his partner had disappeared. He made note of the door that had just closed to the shop across the street, and walked over to see what was going on.

Taking a peek into the bar to make sure they hadn't gone in there, he cracked open the door and poke his head in. No one had really noticed the door opening a little, and he was free to look without attention being drawn to him. A lot of drunkards in here, and even more people on there way to being drunk, he sighed. How could anyone drink their life away without ever having a desire to make a difference in the world? The answer eluded him and he shook his head after assuring his guys weren't in there. He closed the door and looked back at the shop across the street. Lo and behold, he could see through the window that two figures stood in front of the silhouette of a panicked clerk. Neptune's hunch was right, and before he could start running to the shop, the clerk dropped. It didn't take long after that for Neptune to bust through the doors of the shop.

Stan and the stranger turned to see him without a weapon drawn, and made it a point to flash each of their shiny, sharp knives. Neptune calmly stood there without moving towards his weapons. "Put the weapons down and I'll go easy on you," he said, managing to only get a laugh out of the two men. Stan turned his knife upside down and held it by the blade, brought it back, and threw it at Neptune, who ducked out of the way of the blade hurtling towards his head. The two men charged at him, but now only one had a weapon. As the stranger brought his knife back to jab, Neptune stepped to the side, grabbed the strangers head, and slammed it against the wall, knocking him out cold in a single blow. Stan had enough time to land a blow on Neptune's jaw, but it didn't do too much, and Neptune quickly retaliated by grabbing Stan's arm as he went for the next punch, twisting it around behind his back, and pressing him firmly against the door. Helpless, he tried to shake free, but Neptune was stronger than he was and held him against the wall as he grabbed his other hand and held it behind his back. Using a zip tie- yeah, the town didn't have but one pair of handcuffs, and that set was in the possession of some other guard- he tied Stan's hands behind his back. He forced him to lay face first on the floor so he couldn't get up and run very quickly.

Checking to see if the clerk was okay, Neptune walked around behind the counter. Luckily, he had only been punched as his only wound was a broken nose. He breathed a sigh of relief as he then thought about what to do with the two idiotic criminals.

After trading some scrap for a few fuses T'Lora opened the bonnet of her jeep and installed the new hardware. It wasn't a big job but it was necessary. Just as she finished she was approached by a human.

"Hi." he said, walking up to the alien woman, "nice Jeep. Looks like a pre-apocalypse gas-burner that was refit with Lightning parts, possibly during the first ten years after it."

"You've got a good eye, Human."

"You look like a skilled salvager. I guess it's kind of unusual since you don't know me, but care to team up? I know where there's a fairly fresh Zathuran security patrol ship in a rad zone. With your vehicle and a few rad-resistance chems we could get inside the ship before getting badly irradiated. Once inside, we'll be able to pull more salvage than you've likely ever seen."

"Straight to business. I like that." Most humans approached her for something other than work. Humans seemed to have a ridiculously active libido and always seemed like they were looking for potential mates. T'Lora sometimes used that to her advantage, she learned fairly early during her stay on Earth that if you made yourself more sexually appealing to humans they were more likely to be generous during trade offers although this time it didn't seem necessary. "More than I've ever seen, that's cute. I've been pulling wrecks since before you were born." Although that was true she said it jokingly. No need to sincerely insult the human, after all a security patrol ship was actually a decent find. "Getting past their security will be a pain though, it always is. Sounds good to me but we'll need a bit of muscle too. Assuming it's in good condition we'll need someone to carry the heavier equipment since Zathurans use fairly dense materials on their military ships."

"More than I've ever seen, that's cute. I've been pulling wrecks since before you were born."

"Well, more in one place, maybe, not total. If it's as fresh as I hope, neither of us will have to worry about money for a while."

"Getting past their security will be a pain though, it always is. Sounds good to me but we'll need a bit of muscle too. Assuming it's in good condition we'll need someone to carry the heavier equipment since Zathurans use fairly dense materials on their military ships."

"True. And I doubt any of the exoskeletons are left in the cargo hold." Exoskeletons were valuable and in high demand due to the fact that they could roughly triple the amount you could lift. For that matter, they could triple the strength of your punch too. "As for some extra muscle, I'd look for an out of work security guard or caravan guard, maybe an anti-raider. There aren't many bounty hunters or mercs I'd trust on a job like this." Anti-raiders did to raiders and slavers what raiders and slavers did to normal people, and unlike bounty hunters, they didn't wait until enough people had been attacked or killed that the local law enforcment put a bounty out. Many raider camps had been slaughtered and looted by anti-raider parties. Because the anti-raiders didn't hurt non-outlaws, towns didn't mind having them around. "So, which one of us should go find one? We'll also need a trailer to haul stuff in. One of us will need to rent or buy one. And the Jeep will need a recharge, as the wreck is north of Houston and I don't want to risk running out of power out of power in a rad zone."

Neptune stepped outside, knowing full well that the two individuals inside couldn't get out any way except through him. He waved a few guards and a wagon over to take away the captives. The wagon was for the wounded one. "Let's have these two put away for a bit. Alcohol may or may not have influenced their actions, and I want to find out." Neptune was fully aware of what happened to people who committed capital crimes, and if alcohol wasn't involved, they would definitely be let go with a simple ban from the bar. If not, well...

The town couldn't afford to hold any prisoners for long, since there were only two rudimentarily put together cells. He just hoped that they were under the influence. Odd to think about at first, but at least they'd get a second chance. He began walking down the road again, whistling Yankee Doodle and hoping the rest of the day was calm.

"Qasan T'Lora..." She touched her right hand to her forehead and bowed slightly as is customary for her people. "...that all sounds like a good plan but I'm beat. I could use a rest and a good drink." She stretched her arms out and leaned back against her old jeep. Surely he wouldn't mind if they waited until the early morning. It was already getting late and a few hours rest would do her (and probably him too since he walked) a world of good. "Besides, if you want muscle in any town you start with the bar!" She smiled to herself, even if it was true she was still using it as an excuse to get drunk. It had been too long since T'Lora tasted a drop of anything other than recycled water and it was time to fix that. She started to climb back in the jeep. "Do you want to come along or should I just meet you somewhere?"

"Sure." said Has'la. "Has'la Robinson." He held out his hand. "I've never really needed extra muscle for a job, but you seem to know better than me what to look for. I'll put a listing on the 'net, see if any ex security or caravan guards are looking, but I'll have them meet us in the bar at sundown. I'll meet you there as soon as I unload some junk and buy or rent a trailer for us. Shouldn't take long."
After the conversation was over he walked into the general store she had just left and traded in the junk he had salvaged on the way for a few Valn. He then walked around the town until he found a trailer that met his needs. "Are you looking to sell?" he asked the old man who was unloading scrap steel from it.
"Depends on how much you're offering." said the old man. "I still need the jeep, but I can borrow a trailer if I need one."
After settling on a price, he arranged to pick it up tonight and went to the bar. There he found T'lora and sat down, ordering something to eat.
"So, find anyone interesting yet?"

The light was dimming and the Radcycle grumbled between Harry's legs as he crested the last hill and looked down over the town in the distance. It didn't look like much this far out, a cluster of prefab dwellings with a couple of more permanent structures at the heart of the town, most likely the bank and the jail if he guessed right. Not that he cared that much, there wouldn't be many in a town this far out from the central cities that'd be interested in the wares he had to offer.

Turning the handlebars Harry kicked the bike up into high gear, heading for the cluster of turbines scattered further along the rise. It always paid off to make an entrance in small settlements like this, especially when your guns were clearly holstered at your side. Not that Harry intended to threaten them in any way, but the sight of the longarm often helped get a good price for some of his scrap, if only to ensure he left quickly without having to draw the weapon.

Pulling up beside the sales booth Harry kicked the cycle into parking before hauling himself up out of the saddle. He'd been driving for the better part of three days and his legs were still tingling from the constant vibrations the bike's electric engine gave off as it ran. Taking a moment to rub some lift back into his tired muscles Harry reached down and tightened the exo-brace which helped keep his leg together, or at least that's the impression it gave. In truth his legs were just as good, if not better, than most human's his age. He'd been told that was part of the genetic inheritance he'd gained from his father's side of the family, not that he'd ever bothered to ask exactly what that meant.

Moving to the back of his vehicle Harry quickly yanked a large satchel up onto his shoulder before reaching down with both hands and hauling an old engine block up from the storage compartment. With an over-acted shuffle he quickly made his way over to the counter, waiting a moment as the attendant cleared some space for him before setting the heavy piece of machinery down.

"There you go Simon," Harry said smugly, "One Lightning engine, as promised."

"You're a wonder Harry," The attendant replied warmly, rising up from his seat to examine his new prize with obvious excitement. His eyes lit up a moment later as he stroked his hands down the side of the micro-element manifold. "Damn... flawless manifold, almost all shock plugs still intact... where'd you find this?"

Harry shook his head with a smile, "You know better than to ask things like that Simon. All I can say is that there's no previous owner likely to come looking for it." With that Harry pulled a battered old tablet from his satchel and with a swipe of his finger brought up his financial management program. "Now, as for business..?"

"No problem," Simon said, his iPhone already in hand as he tapped in the credit transfer. A moment later Harry nodded happily as the payment registered on his pad.

"Got something else for you too, prime grade power cells." Pulling the satchel mouth wider Harry let Simon take a peak at the high-capacity cells piled inside, each gleaming as if they'd only just come off of the assembly line. In truth they were all refurbished and drained, but with as little charging they'd work just as good as they looked.

Simon shook his head sadly. "I'd love to take them from you Harry, but business ain't too good right now and this has wiped out my readies. Best I can do is point you to a fella in town, he was in a earlier today looking for high-cap cells and had the look of someone who'd be looking to settle for the night. If you're lucky he might still be looking to trade."

"Yeah?" Harry said, tucking his tablet back in the pouch as he glanced down the road towards the town. "He look good for the money?"

"He was wearing a fancy wrist-comp and said he was gonna be buying an ion charge cell, so he'll have some scratch to play with. Best hurry though, might not want to buy if you leave it too long."

Harry smiled, a customer with ready cash, always a good thing for a scavenger. "Thanks for the tip. See ya soon."

With that Harry turned back to the Radcycle, stowing the power cells in back before kicking the engine into life. Moment later he was speeding down the roadway into the town, heading for the town centre. As he pulled up he spotted the sparse crowd clustered around the old truck belonging to a trader he'd dealt with a few times in the past, not always with a mutually agreeable outcome. Turning away from the market Harry made his way towards the bar with his satchel hanging down at his side.

Stepping through the door he could see the usually evening crowd clustered at their usual tables. In one corner a card game of some sort had started up and already several knick-knacks and gadgets were resting piled in the middle of the table. A quick glance told him the gadgets were all low-quality junk, including a couple of pieces he recognised as his own finds from a few weeks earlier. Turning away he was about to head back out the door when he spotted a rough looking man sitting with a Blueberry off to one side. He didn't recognise either of them, but the man's wrist-comp was distinctive.

'What the hell,' He thought to himself, 'It's worth a shot at least.'

Lifting his arm in the air with a friendly wave, which also gave everyone a good view of the custom stunner hanging from his belt, just in case, Harry called out to the man as he stepped up towards the table. "Hey there! You the guy looking for high-cap power cells?"

Neptune sighed. As the night drew closer, he found himself getting hungry. There weren't many places he could eat while he was in duty, but the bar offered a deal where guards could eat for free as long as they stepped in and helped in any confrontation that occurred while they were there. He decided he'd save a penny and eat there, knowing full well what the conditions were. He stepped into the bar, immediately recognizing the people within. Mostly potential troublemakers, but a few were not. Namely the two who were to soon begin a conversation.

"High-cap power cells?..." Neptune muttered under his breath. A bit if a high goal to strive for, if he knew anything about power, which he did. He watched the man who spoke up out of the corner of his eye, in case an underhanded trade was in the works here in the bar. It wouldn't be surprising, considering that the bar is where the root of most of Neptune's problems arose.

"What c'n I do ya fer" the bartender said, snapping Neptune out of his trance. An older fellow who was missing most of his teeth. Neptune didn't blame the guy for his manner of speech, considering this.

"What do you have in stock as far as meals go, Sherm?"

"Jus' gotta box fulla country fried steaks. Still good, ta. Surprising, ain't it?"

"Never had one before. If you're right about them still being good, I'll take that then. With some potatoes."

"Comin' up!"

"Thank you." Neptune looked around again, waiting to see if anything was going to happen. He couldn't help but feel as if he needed to get to know some people, but he moved from settlement to settlement so much that he just didn't bother anymore.

T'Lora didn't waste any time getting drunk and by the time Has'la had caught up to her at the bar she was already halfway through her first bottle of tequila. Finding a mule for their upcoming salvage wouldn't be too hard. Looking across the room she could see plenty of strong young humans. "Take yur pick. Any o' these mules'll do." She was more concerned with her bottle at this point and paid no mind to the man trying to make a sale. If there was one thing T'Lora was good at, it was drinking.

As soon as Has'la sat down he could tell T'Lora was drunk. It didn't matter, though. She might have a bit of a hangover in the morning, but for the night there wasn't any reason not to drink once they were ready.

"Take yur pick. Any o' these mules'll do."

"For hauling the stuff, sure, but none of them look like the type to brave an automated security system, especially when they find out how small of a percentage they'll get for their troubles. Hopefully someone better will show up so that we don't have to hire one of them."

The waitress, the Bartender's granddaughter he assumed, brought his food over. He had decided to have a decent meal for a change and had ordered the vegetable "beef" stew, some boiled peanuts (for extra protein, as he hadn't had much recently) and a bottle of soda. He ordered a bottle of Jack when she brought his food, then started to eat. Surprisingly, while the meat was likely dog or some wild mammal in the area, it contained real beef stock. Animal products, at least the farmed kind, were expensive and hard to come by. They had likely bought theirs from the farms near Dallas and had it shipped in. Pretty expensive, but then it was for their higher-end food, so the customers were willing to pay.

Just as the waitress was leaving a man with a cybernetic eye walked up. "Hey there! You the guy looking for high-cap power cells?"

"Depends on how much you're charging." he said. If they were new, they could go for as much as thirty Valn each. Good rebuilds would still go for fifteen or twenty Valn each. He looked at one and was surprised. Most of the "high grades" you came across were actually mid-grades, low-grades that were refilled with high-grade fluid. These were actual rebuilt high-grades, though. Which was a bit suspicious. The only reliable sources of high-grades were factories, none of which rebuilt them, and Raiders, who kept large numbers around for their weapons. "Nice cells," he said, "but I'm curious where they came from." The man didn't look like an anti-raider, and raiders had been known to send their more recent members into towns to resell stuff they'd taken from their raids. If a group was getting desperate, they might even try to sell surplus power cells.

The cells might also be stolen from a shop in the area, most likely Houston. That would be almost as bad, though if he found out who they were stolen from he might arrange to return them for some sort of reward, maybe even a free cell or two.

"All refurbished," Harry answered honestly, "Picked 'em up out in the wastes, stripped 'em down and rebuilt them myself. Can't honestly say they'll run as good as new, but I'll stake my name on them being better quality than most you'll find in these parts." As he spoke Harry pulled his satchel around to show the stranger the pile he had inside, which just so happened to also nudge the stunner on his hip forward subtly, just in case the guy got any bright ideas. "Got twelve of 'em right now and could let them go at 200 for the set, or trade if you'd prefer."

Harry let his eyes drift over to the man's companion, taking in the details as casually as he could so as not to offend her. She was a fine looking beast, the kind he might've tried for a tumble with had it not been for the obvious smell of liquor wafting from her direction. He'd learnt the hard way that a woman who took solace in the bottom of a bottle may be good for a night, but would be far less friendly once the booze's glow dimmed and the pounding headaches started. They also tended to be a little forgetful about little details in the heat of the moment, such as angry husbands, or in one memorable case an angry wife.

T'Lora listened carefully to the man's deal. He seemed fairly confident that her new friend would pay up 200 for his wares. She almost choked on her tequila when she let out a laugh mid-drink. "Those ain't wurt two hundo. You 'furbished 'em yurself so yur not coverin' cost of havin' some tech junkie fix 'em up fur you." She looked at Has'la. "Give 'im one fitty, that's fair." Satisfied with her response she returned to her glass half full of the fermented juice of desert agave fruit. Liquor was something she discovered on Earth since the castless weren't allowed to have liquor of any kind, instead given the simplest of ales made with very low quality fruits.

T'Lora honestly couldn't care less about the power cells but she recognized the look he gave her when he walked up to them. Either he knew that she was casteless or he was one of those humans that dislikes foreigners on 'his' planet. Either way she knew that they wouldn't get along from the start. He was clearly good at his craft though, the power cells looked like they were thoroughly taken care of, or she was too drunk already to tell a good cell from a bad one.

With a sigh Harry loaded the power cells back into his pack and began to fasten it up. "Sorry, the price is two hundred, take it or leave it." He said shaking his head sadly, "This is high-grade equipment and if it's too expensive for you then I guess I'll have to take 'em elsewhere."

He wasn't sure why he was even bothering to talk to the Blueberry, she was obviously too drunk to even understand him properly and for a moment he wondered why the trader would even bother to hang around with her. Then his gaze slipped down several inches and he realised exactly why.

Looking back up at T'Lora's face with a knowing grin he turned to go, "Well, I guess I'll leave you two to your romantic evening. Hope you both enjoy yourselves."

He knew the guy's "I'm going to leave now" thing was just a show to get him to not ask further questions or haggle any more, but he didn't care. He could use those cells. "I don't have two hundred." said Has'la, telling the truth. After buying that trailer he had a grand total of 187.63 Valn left, and they still had to fill the jeep up before leaving. "But I'm leaving tomorrow to pull some salvage. When I get back I'll have plenty. Or, you could come with us. I'll need some extra muscle to protect us when we haul it back and in case there's any automated defenses left intact when we get there. I could also use the help moving the heavier stuff. You can come with us, help us out in that regard, and I'll pay you one hundred for your troubles. I'll even buy the cells off of you when we get back and I sale my salvage. What do you think?" He hoped the man would take the offer, as he didn't have much else to add to it.

Already half turned away from the table Harry paused. "Automated defenses?" He asked, intrigued. There were only a few places he knew of where those things were still operating after all these years and all of them were well worth the trip, if you could crack them.

Lowering his pack to the floor Harry leant over the table as he looked into the stranger's eyes. He'd heard some people say you could tell whether someone was lying to you or not by looking into their eyes when they spoke, but he'd found looming over them with a glaring cybernetic eye loosened more tongues that blind faith. With his eyepiece whirring and clicking he quickly scanned the man, his readout picking out the wristcomp, shield generator and interesting bauble hanging round his neck.

"I'll tell you what," He began, trying to sound offhand and disinterested, "I'll join your party and I'll even let you have the power cells for now. In exchange I want first claim on any off the automated defenses that we encounter, and you'll hand me that necklace of yours for insurance. If it turns out we don't find anything worthwhile then I keep the necklace and you pay me my 200, if we hit paydirt then you get the bauble back and we call it quits.

"Of course, if you happen to not survive the trip, then I'll keep the keepsake, obviously." He finished with a friendly grin.

"The necklace has too much value, sentimental and monetary, for me to even consider using it as collateral on something like this. I'll put up the hundred Valn and my shield generator, provided you let me wear it until we verify that there aren't any automated defenses before turning it over to you. If you get at least their value worth of salvage from the automated defenses, then you give them back. If not, you're up one hundred Valn and a working shield generator for, at most, two days worth of work. I doubt you'll get a better deal than that for protecting anyone else." True, he didn't have much to put up for collateral, but for most guard types that would be more than enough to hire them.