>>5885524As the Vanilla Skyline leaves the slipway, you notice distinctly fewer barrels pointed your direction. Is this supposed to be a sign of trust? In what, anyway? Yamir must not be so foolish to think the hairless have no conception of object permanence. Deviate even slightly from the excessively marked pathway, and in a few blinks any observer will wonder whether there were any ships in the first place. More accurately, this is a demonstration of strength. Like a thumb hanging just outside of an ant's field of vision, ready to bear down with its full weight at any whim. Best not to bite, then.
The manoeuvring thrusters meekly comply to every little jerk from the couple of tugs dragging your ship into, from the looks of it, a more frequently-used dock. After your ship was secured in place by several massive clamps protruding like stalactites and stalagmites from the ceiling and floor, the massive bay gates were closed and proper atmo-seal established. You carry an oxytank with you anyway in case the Mir forgot to make the air breathable for humans. Near the loading doors Goldsmith is already busy examining the components you have ordered. Deep in thoughts, he only recognises your approach when one of the men helpfully taps his back.
“Ah, sorry capt'. Didn't hear you there, it always being so loud in engi and all.” He gives you a stiff salute. “Anyway, these components were...” He shakes his head a little. “They are something, at least. I can work with them.” A deep breath before the rant. “Damage on the engines is external, so no problem there. Would be hell getting these hydraulics to interface with the propriety ammo manager software, though. Penetrator caps on the missiles are substandard, but then again so are most Qyngur armor.” Suddenly, the lights go dark. You pull out your sidearm in reflex, but they turn back on immediately. There is something different, however. Have they gotten brighter? “Don't worry about that, cap. The digital vacuum's up, that's all. From now on not one bit will enter or leave this dock without crossing my tablet first.” Seeing the panic on your face, he continues, “It's nothing. I've already cleared everything stationside before hand. Else, there won't be any repairin' on my watch.” You slowly put the pistol back in holster. Goldsmith talks to no one in particular, “Don't want to see any bugs runnin' around with copycat guns, that's all.”
As you vacillate between returning to the ship and looking around outside a bit more, Johnson calls out, “Captain, I was looking for you.” This must be about the family talk. You hope Barb did not go too hard on her brother. “The Hivekeeper wants to meet you, to hand over the requested information in person.” Really? Is this even necessary? Johnson turns to your engineer chief, “Bay's sealed, already?” Goldsmith nods. “Guess we'll have to ride the shuttle, then. Follow me, captain.”
