Beth wasn't drunk. That alone was probably an accomplishment considering her predicament. She was angry, that was normal, and in a way reassuring for the woman. A cousin, probably a second or third, was beating her at cards. He had assured her that he could get her off station before she was scanned. He, of course, was clean. At least he had never been caught at committing whatever crimes it was he was guilty of.

Her cousin had finished emptying her wallet when from across the bar Sonny, the guy her cousin had introduced her to in the hopes of Beth getting of the station, called out that the meeting had been set up. The employer was another person that Beth had to deal with. She just wanted off the damn station. She hated sitting still, or rather hated not moving through space. Stations had their place, and that’s where they stayed (usually). Ships though, that was another matter, her heart pounded. Beth poured the rest of her beer, bought with her cousin’s money, down her throat not even tasting the foul liquor. “Thanks,” She mumbled in her cousin’s general direction, stood and made her way across the crowded room to the old man.

With a nod and feigned smile she entered the room Sonny was standing in. The only person in the room, a man, seemed disinterested. The room was stifling and like the rest of the station full of recycled air, which made Beth want to smoke.

“Afternoon,” Beth said. She sat down without any prompt from the man, her future captain if all went well. She didn’t look as the others joined them.

Jinxy had been sitting at the bar by herself, minding her own business. It was honestly sometimes the best way to not get caught. Not that she had done anything wrong recently. However, this did not mean she wanted to be caught when they started scanning. She was pretty sure she still technically had some time left, but... She waved the thought away with her hand. She had a job possibly lined up, and one that would involve engines, and not just the promise of them. Or so Sonny had told her. A real honest to god ship again. Her fingers started twitching at the prospect of being able to work on an engine again. It had been a while. Or so she told herself. She had done some minor repairs here and there on Godwin Station, to pass the time and earn a bit of 'honest' money.

When she heard Sonny call out for the 'girls', she stood up. "Girls? More than one? I thought this was honest work... I'll hear him out, but if I hear anything about taking off my clothing, I'm slugging them both," she thought to herself as she paid up her small tab. She walked over to the private room and gave Sonny a nod. She sat down and gave a quick look around. The captain wasn't too bad looking, but there was something about him. However, she seemed to light up a bit as she noticed his arm. She did know not to immediately ask to look at it, as that usually put people off when they were trying to interview you.

"Hello everyone," she said, and looked at Beth. She quickly looked back at the captain and smiled. "So, I hear you might have a way off this place, and a job to offer?" She asked curiously.

"Damn it, Sonny..." Victoria thought as she heard the old man summon her. But she couldn't really be that mad; the former ring-leader had promised a way off this station, and perhaps some money as well. The money alone was enough to get her to go, as she was running low on Psyche and that stuff isn't cheap. Especially on the black market. Of course, that money wouldn't mean much stuck on a station crawling with GA men, but even if this plan fell through she was confident she could get away. Arrogant? Nah.

She looked at the loaded needle on the table longingly for a moment, then made her way towards where she'd heard his voice. She barely stumbled at all, as she had only just been getting started; the night is still young. As she walked in, Victoria noticed two other girls were already present, as well as Sonny and the man who she assumed was their "employer." She still wasn't convinced that this was anything more than a lonely man paying for one last good time before the GA came for him, but she knew very well that Sonny had put an end to that business quite a while ago.

"Sonny, couldn't you have waited a bit longer? There's a perfectly good needle out there calling my name," Victoria complained without giving a proper greeting at all. She sat down, crossing her legs immediately, so as to make it clear that nobody in this room would be bedding her tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever, really. "Though to be fair, I could do worse," she thought, looking at the man that was to be her "employer" as she waited for whatever would happen next.

Trish sat at the bar, really hoping this opportunity panned out. Since they began the ID checks, she'd been living in hiding and paranoia for far too long. A breath of fresh air was needed, and soon, or she was going to end up doing something drastic. Her final play was ready, it had taken the last of her cash to set up, and her supplier said that while the station was being swept, he'd be dry.

Her pack sat on her lap, keeping it close, for in addition to her normal supplies, it held her nitrogen triiodide claymore. It was one of her preferred fuel sources for it maintained a solid, crystal form, and was easier to smuggle through security checks. She'd replaced the outer casing of the fuel with steel ball bearings that she'd stolen from a mechanical supplies hold. Normally they'd be used for doors and other moving parts, but now they were her way out.

If this job didn't work out, she already had a home for this little guy. There was a trash chute that led to the recyclers. And this chute passed right by the life support systems with nothing but a non-reinforced aluminum wall between them. All it took was three stories of rope and she was golden. The trigger was wired into her gloves, so that if she touched the thumb and little finger of her right hand together, the circuit would be complete, and boom. After it was in place, she'd place herself near one of the station's many escape pods, so that during the chaos, she could conveniently get out, no questions asked.

Trish almost cringed when Sonny called out to "Girls." She assumed that it was directed at her, and whomever else he'd rounded up. Her supplier had put them in contact with one another, saying that the old man had a way for her to earn her escape off the station. Dregor probably just wanted her gone so that the authorities could chase her elsewhere and his business could resume as normal.

Downing the last of her drink, she stood up, moved her pack to hang by her hip now, and made her way into the curtained room. Within she saw the rest of the girls, Sonny, and another man, whom she assumed to be the client. Still not saying anything to the group, her eyes quickly scanned the space, noting that the entrance was also the only exit. As such, she leaned her body against the wall just by the door and meekly greeted with a "Hello." Continuing to look over the group, she took in the details of each person, though her gaze noticeable lingered for a significantly lesser amount of time on the client.

After Amir set down the decanter within Beth’s reach she poured herself a glass. She gave no reaction to if she enjoyed the drink or not, but seemed to be swishing the thoughts and options. Honestly the only thing Beth cared about was getting back into the Black. A station was no place for someone with the stars in their veins.

The job was vague. Shit there was no job actually described, but Amir had a point she’d get off the damn station. Getting caught wouldn’t be a good idea, especially considering... Well there was only one other option than staying put and that was leaving.

“I’m in, but I’m flyin’.” Now that more than two words had been strung together it was clear that Beth’s English wasn’t top tier. Sonny had known that was her stipulation, but she wanted it out as a reminder. A glance at the other three women gave Beth an idea that she probably had the most experience. Beth had been flying since she could sit at on her mom’s lap behind the controls. Unless the captain himself flew, which if that were the case why would Sonny have even offered her the spot, Beth was certain she was the only pilot in the small group.

"I know I'm in. I wanna get off this rock as much as anyone," Jinxy said. "And I have no problem with working for you, as long as I'm only on my back under an engine, if you get my drift," she said. She did have a slight giggle at what Amir said about them all stabbing him in the back if he was untoward.

"However, I do request that if I come work for you, that the engine room is off limits to others... I am a little picky in how I like things organized. If this is going to be a problem, well, sucks to be me in this case," she said and sighed. She was aware her 'peculiarities' about organization drove some captains wild, but if she didn't have an organized engine room, she would go insane quickly. And that wouldn't be pretty for anyone.

"By the way, I'm Jinxy. That is the only name you'll get out of me till I know y'all better," she said. She didn't know if any of them had connections that would make giving her real name out a problem yet, but right now that didn't matter. The more time they spent shooting the shit, the less time they had to get off the rock before checks went through. She brushed a lock of hair back and waited for a response to her request.

It was clear to Victoria that this man – Amir, did he say? – didn't think much of her. Could she blame him? Not really, but she didn't particularly appreciate it regardless. Taking a glance at the decanter sitting on the table, she decided to give him some food for thought.

Wearing her best poker face, Victoria observed Amir closely, as if a predator sizing up its prey. She concentrated on the decanter as she has become so used to doing, urging it to levitate above the table. Tipping over, the decanter carefully poured its contents into a glass, before gently returning to the table. Now the glass began to move, flying gracefully into Victoria's waiting hand.

Noting Amir's reaction to her demonstration, she took a sip of the drink. Swallowing, she stared at the glass, failing to mask the surprise in her expression. "This is... much better than what Sonny would usually serve at the bar, even to those who asked for the best brew he had. He must really like this Amir," she mused.

Finally, she spoke. "In my opinion, getting paid off by the authorities is foolish. Sure, you get paid handsomely – assuming they don't arrest you anyways. But then you're back to the drawing board, with no job all the while. And rebuilding a reputation, finding more work... that takes more effort than it's worth. So in that respect, you don't need to worry about my loyalty."

After a brief pause, she continued, "As for your offer... I note that you haven't actually told us anything. However, it certainly seems to me that Sonny trusts you, and I see no reason to question his judgement. So... I'm in. You may call me Angel," she finished, with the slightest hint of an amused smirk at the door, in the general direction of where Sonny surely was now, working the bar. Leaning back, Victoria took another sip from her glass, waiting for the final girl to speak.

Trish was half listening as the captain spoke. She honestly didn't care what job he had in mind, or what offer he proposed, so long as it meant that she could get off this station safely. Making a mental note to remember his name, she found herself remembering her previous captain. He'd always been so protective of her and his crew, and had made their ship feel like home. At least he didn't haunt her sleep every night anymore.

The moment Amir mentioned 'untoward intentions' though, Trish's head snapped up and for the briefest of moments, she had the fiercest of glares. But she quickly regained control and looked away from him once more, muttering in reply, "Stabbing doesn't always do the job."

Now that the other women were speaking, she found her eyes watching them in turn as they spoke. She found herself wondering if the captain would approve the mechanic's, she assumed, request about restricting the engine. Trish usually found some of the best tools and bits to make her armaments in the engine room. Not to mention that the access to the fuel was in there. Mentally shrugging, she'd make it work one way or another.

That was when Trish noticed the addict was making the decanter move. She'd heard of Psyche users, who hadn't? But she'd never seen one at work before. It was strange to her, a bit scary, just... unnatural. Physics made sense to Trish. Perhaps these users were within the realm of physics as well, but she didn't know how it worked. Although... being able to move a bomb into place with one's mind could be useful in some circumstances, she supposed.

And suddenly it was silent, for an awkwardly long moment before Trish realized that it was apparently her turn to speak. "If you can get me off this station, soon, I'll do whatever you want with my skill set. My loyalty lies with whomever's ship takes me furthest from the authorities."

Having said her piece, she resumed looking around, listening at the door, always on alert. Absentmindedly, Trish had returned to an old habit of touching her thumb to her other fingers sequentially, but skipping over the trigger finger. It was a comfort tic from a while back, and appeared to be returning now.

Beth watched the decanter pour itself. A small smile crossed her face. By the sound of it none of the others were at all interested in flying, and of course Amir gave her the spot. She sat back in the chair and listened to his plan. It was not fool proof. Shit it wasn't even a good plan. She had heard worse, but only once before and it was a plan out of an eight year old's mouth. They didn't have a lot of options though.

“I suggest,” Beth started, “that I head toward the docks and find a viable ship while the diversion is being set off. That way when you all meet me there I'm ready for you and we can just go.” That probably sounded like she was going to desert them. She frowned unsure of how to make it sound better. There were too many dangers in space for her to survive on her own, that alone must be clear to the rest of the group.

The moment the captain mentioned the need for a distraction, Trish knew this was her time to speak up. After all, she already had the plan ready, and the distraction hung loosely at her hip. But there was no way she was going alone, not if she was part of a crew now. The pilot already gleaned her role, Trish had no desire to work with the captain one on one, and couldn't be sure if the mechanic would keep problems off her back. That left the addict, Angel. Trish didn't know how many of the stories she'd heard were true, but if only a few were, then Angel would be very valuable at her side.

Just before she spoke, there was a pang of guilt. She was this terrorist everyone was looking for, well, one of them. She didn't hold the fanatical beliefs of her last client, but they paid her to blow things, and people, up. She'd never used an alias before, and really didn't want to start now. So, she simply didn't say her name. Looking toward Angel, "I have a distraction all ready to go. It was my backup plan in case..." gesturing to the group, "This didn't pan out." Glancing over at the pilot, "How long will you need to pick out a suitable ship?"

She wondered if the mechanic might join the pilot, in order to ensure that it would in fact fly. Looking back to Angel, "I might need your help, in case... Trouble shows up. I cannot be interrupted during this." Her eyes moving over to the captain, Amir, though more on his torso, never meeting his eyes, she found her nervous finger touching return. That was when she realized her plan needed a bit of altering, since the original just required her to get to the emergency escape pods. If she needed to get to the ship hangar, that meant lift access. "If, um, you could, um, keep the lift ready on B6, that would, ah.., really help."

As soon as she was done, her gaze quickly moved away from him, her nervous tick stopping, and her hand now resting on her satchel with her baby inside. Hopefully they were okay with her plan, then she could relax a bit, knowing she had a clear way out.

Victoria nodded. "Normally I'm the one causing the trouble, but I can do that. I'll make sure you get as much time as you need," she promised arrogantly. Of course, who could blame her? A few GA officers vs a Psyche; it doesn't take much to know who would win that fight. "Just to have a better idea of what it is I'll be helping you do," she added, "what does your distraction entail?"

Now she turned to the captain. "Somebody should go with her," she suggested, gesturing towards the pilot. "I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but, well... it'd be a damn shame if we went through all this trouble just to be left stranded on the station, wouldn't it?" Victoria took another drink from her glass. She didn't expect the pilot to leave them, in truth, as that'd be quite a stupid thing to do. Still, you could never be too careful, especially with the way things are now.

"Thank you Amir," Jinxy said in reply to Amir's answer to her question. "And I will comply with that. If someone really needs access, I will give it."

"I'll go with the pilot, if no one objects. There is no point in picking out a ship if we can't make sure it flies, and I would give the engine the once over to make sure it's at least worth enough to get us out of the station," she said, in response to what Angel said about someone going with the unnamed pilot. She then turned to the other unnamed member of their group. "I gotta ask, this plan, do you need anything looked over before you implement it? Wouldn't want anything to go wrong and the whole station goes up sky high," she said, shrugging a bit. She didn't know what the unnamed woman had planned, but if it was a distraction, it meant possibly getting something blown up. Jinxy did have a small mental map made of the station, since she had also been looking for a way off.

"Beyond that... I just make a request that I get my tools before we get going. I had to stash them somewhere to keep 'em safe," she said, brushing back her hair again. It was a bit of a nervous habit. However, she was a bit worried about her tools. She had put them away for safekeeping, but had not been able to check on them since then. She knew that they were worth a bit of coin, so if someone had found them... she sighed and shook her head. "But I can do that on my own, if that's okay with everyone."

Well, it seemed that a little mystery in her plan was unwanted. Stepping forward to the table, she gently placed her satchel upon it. "The reason there have been no more explosions isn't because the terrorists have been caught. But because this is my last baby." Trish pulled down the sides of the satchel, to reveal the rugby ball sized device. Anyone with a bit of technical expertise could see that the two ends were powerful electromagnets, to suspend the explosive crystal within. Between the two ends, was a series of lumps, the ball bearings she'd fitted to it. Fitted right in the middle was a single, tiny winch, like one might find on a space suit's belt, with a thin metallic wire.

Pulling the satchel sides back up and returning it over her shoulder, "I've located a trash chute that runs right past the life support systems. From B6, I can lower this down roughly ten meters. The wall between the systems and the chute is non-reinforced aluminum alloy. My baby here will tear right through it, and cripple the station for a good, long while. It is remote detonated, and can be set off from just about anywhere on the ship. I've not yet been scanned, but if I am, it won't be pretty, which is why I asked Angel along."

She was getting antsy now. She wanted this plan in motion, and off this bloody station. Trish just wanted a room to play around with a few ideas she had for new devices. That always relaxed her. Maybe a nice sandwich as well. That would be good.

"You can call me Trish."

Victoria glared at Trish in shock. The Life Support. She knew everyone in this room had committed crimes, and she certainly couldn't pretend to be the angel that her alias suggests. But this... frankly, it's evil. Sure, the GA officers she couldn't care less about, and Sonny would certainly make it out, even if Amir didn't warn him (honestly, Victoria doesn't know why she cares about Sonny's well-being, but she does). But even an optimistic estimate would mean hundreds of innocent people killed; men, women, and... children.


Just as suddenly as it had began, the flashback ended. Victoria realized she was holding her head in her hands, practically in the fetal position. Relax, girl, it was just a flashback, she thought to herself as she tried to regain her composure. Would the others believe it was just from the drugs? Oh how she wished that was the case, but even if they didn't there was no way she would ever explain it to them. Never.

Sitting up again, although still noticeably shaken up, she turned to Trish. "Absolutely not happening. Sure, there are plenty of people on this station I wouldn't mind to see die. But there are even more innocent lives. Men, women, children," she reminded. "Place it somewhere else – anywhere else – but I will have no hand in killing innocent bystanders." And with that, Victoria downed the rest of her glass; at this point, she needed it. Who would've thought that the druggie would be the voice of reason?

Trish realized a few things from Amir and Angel's responses to her plan. The first, those two were clearly not as desperate as she was to get off the station. The second was that they didn't seem to realize that a crippling of a life support system wasn't an immediate death. It mostly recycled air, water, provided the artificial gravity and a few other things. But, either way, it was clearly too distasteful for them. She wondered what they would've said if she suggested putting it near the nuclear core.

Shrugging, "I can just toss her into the chute. No one even works in recycling all the way at the bottom. Would probably cause a small breach, but the station would just seal that section off. Just not sure if it would be enough of a distraction. I'm open to other ideas, this was just my backup plan anyways."

Trish now found herself if the mechanic would've known about life support, or perhaps another weak point in the station. If she didn't need to use them herself, she'd just blow up an empty lift. But she wasn't in charge anymore, so she glanced over to her new captain, still never meeting his eyes.

While everyone was talking, Jinxy was thinking. She was mentally mapping out the station in her mind. "In section C42, there is an essential part that, while being blown up would be bad, it wouldn't result in the death of many people, however, it would draw attention there. Its the armory. Where they store the extra ammo. And right now its not being patrolled. They keep it triple locked with three guards each having one key so it is impossible to break into. How would that work for being a distraction?" She said after a moment. "The only possible people who'd be hurt in that scenario are guards, who have no regard for anyone's life but their own really, so maybe no moral objections?"

Jinxy was also against hurting innocent bystanders. Well... 'innocent' in a sense. She knew most of the people here had some sort of bad past under their belt, just like the five of them trying to get off this godforsaken station now. However, while she may have done some less than squeaky clean stuff in her past, she had never resorted to killing people. And that was something she was hoping to not change. She was aware that damaging the life support wasn't instant death, but it would result in some unwanted effects, some which would effect them immediately. "By the way Trish, you do realize that if you did damage the life support, there is the chance the artificial gravity would be the first to go, resulting in us losing time while we get our bearings again? That is also a risk I'd rather not take right now, beyond possibly injuring and killing innocent people."

She looked around the table, taking everyone in. She was still a bit stunned by the revelation that Trish was the terrorist everyone was looking for. Sure, she wouldn't turn her in, but... was that really someone she wanted to trust on a ship with her? Again, that wasn't her call, and the captain wasn't opening objecting to it, so she stayed silent. She then saw that Angel was freaking out a bit, and spoke up. "Are you alright Angel? You seem to be having a bit of a moment there," she said, looking a bit concerned for the younger woman.