[b]Mosaic and Ember![/b]

There's so much to say. Beneath the light of a single, unglamourous moon, beneath a sky of inaesthetic clouds and satellite stars, on a sad little hill with a boombox playing music you forget as soon as you've heard it, all of the mundanity and disappointment comes together to make something awkwardly memorable. A date night. Not a thing of romance and passion, but an unglamourous freedom to be mundane with each other. Here Empire only exists in dream and aspiration.

[b]Dyssia![/b]

"Of course, we are grateful for the removal of the Ceronians," said NBX-462. When had he - !? If he wasn't so obviously soft, small and harmless his sudden appearance would have been startling, but the tension of his appearance disappears as quickly as it came. Even a Biomancer wouldn't have been able to fit an assassin into the helplessness of that ball of wool.

You've just stepped out of your Plover and are on your way back to your room. It's kind of the perfect moment to catch you - plenty of people around but quiet enough that you can talk, you're already moving so it's not taking any of your time, you just had a rest on the way back up here. Perfect timing. "And of course, we will maintain our existing commitment to resupply your ship in full. But an opportunity has arisen in the form of that Esoteric there," he nods at the lethal little nightmare gun that you are carrying. "The Service would like to issue a formal request for that item - and I have been advised that it has been appraised at about the same value as the entire planet you were just on. If you would like to sell it to us, I have the authority to redesignate Portugal according to your designs for an interval of two hundred and fifty years."

[b]Dolce![/b]

At some point during the conversation, Iskarot picks you up. Light as a bag of wool, he lifts you over the counter and puts you on the stool next to him. Then he clambers, three-legged, over the bar and stands behind it so that he can serve you drinks as you tell your tale.

"I can tell you that there's no way your friends will evade Liquid Bronze militarily," said Iskarot. "Killing him wouldn't do it. I mean, he had a divination shrine set up just in case a three hundred year dead colleague should mysteriously return to life, and a commando squad who could find me on a trackless wild. He's a bloodhound and I don't mean that metaphorically. There has to be a way to use that against him but I can't for the life of me figure out what. Vesper would see it, though. She always knew how to get people to consume themselves on her behalf."

He tapped his fingers, brass and gold, on the counter. "Well, that's my request. You figure out how to give me... a week would be excellent, but I'd need at least a day. A day with Vesper and I can find out how to break this chase. But you'll need to get around your little nemesis for that - 20022? I don't doubt he'll be looking to make sure everything goes smoothly for Mr. Bronze, and while Bronze might not notice a day's delay I am sure he will."