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Description
     Echoes.
     Every sound repeated evenly to a predetermined pattern. Reflections.
     Combinations.
     Remembrance.

     The charred, blackened embers of what used to be the Redfield station smoldered and smoked under the desert stars. A few embers still glowed, and scraps of fluttering debris and ash blew in the breeze. The melted and twisted fragments of metal supports and infrastructure thrown across the site marked the would-be graves of the one hundred and ninety-nine people that died there.
     In the center of the wreckage, a small speck, nearly invisible to the human eye, was blowing about in the wind. It was no different than any of the other motes of ash that were drifting on the gusts, and an average person wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary. A physicist may have, however, observed that it wasn't quite moving with the speed that it was supposed to be. The wind was relatively strong, yet... this mote moved slowly and heavily, resisting the wind and traveling in a perfectly straight line, as if it had a mind of its own and knew exactly where it was going.
     The small, black spot suddenly halted in its path, stopping in midair and defying the wind.
     The small fires that were still glowing despite the cool desert temperatures cast a red, flickering light on the mote, and it began to grow in size. It seemed to draw sustenance from the flames, aggregating form and purpose from them, resulting in a roughly person-sized glob of amorphous black substance whose origins were a mystery.
     Sounds began to breach the silence of the night, and they came from this new darkness. Voices whispered in anticipation, shrieks of pain and roars of defiance, none of them human in timbre or cadence.
     Suddenly, the black form halted its aimless movements, and the voices silenced. Cracks of a pearly white color webbed across it, as though it had been struck by an invisible hammer. The cracks pooled together and formed a single white orb, which moved toward the top of the form. The shape itself was straightening and becoming a distinct towering thing, with flares and filigrees of darkness spiraling away from it.
     This large, black form was taller than most men by several heads, and seemed to take on the shape of a black cloaked figure, shoulders rounded as if hiding from something or someone. It was headless, with the white orb centered near the neck would have began.
     It spoke into the darkness of its own accord, as if it was conversing with something that wasn't there. Its voice was echoing and ethereal, deep and powerful enough to rattle glass panes, yet with a strange quality of distance, as if it were being heard through a vast mountain range.
     “No... No, it cannot be done now. It is not possible...”
     “Other things have come... it is different now...”
     “Yes... yes... we must find it. The... ghost, it is here...”
     “These things... take time. We must bide our time...”
     “Subdue the ghost... reunite... reclaim... cleanse. For the world...”
     It began to move distractedly among the wreckage at a slow pace, passing through the debris itself as it it wasn't there. It moved with a purpose and without fault, picking its path carefully, as if it was looking for something.

     Vinrey loomed over his prisoner with the air of a man that wants answers, and wants them sooner rather than later.
     His captured was lying on the ground before him, bleeding profusely from his shattered legs and letting out the occasional cry of agony. His black camouflage rags were staining to a deep red, and he knew that if he did not cooperate with these men, he would die, either by gunshot, a hammer blow, or blood loss.
     He also knew that if he divulged too much or the wrong kind of information, death would be dealt to him by a higher hand. He would have to go about this carefully, if he wanted to escape all this with his life.
     Bactus privately hoped that the stupid wannabe assassin would resist so he could smash his legs some more. Bactus liked smashing the legs of people that shot rockets at him.
     Marcus held his rifle at the inefficient killer's head. He didn't want to kill him, and wouldn't even try unless Vinrey commanded him to. And even then, he wasn't sure he could. It was more for effect than anything else.
     The man asked in a voice that was very obviously in the worst kind of pain, “What do you want to know?”
     Vinrey said calmly, “Telling us who you work for would be a good place to start.”
     The man grit his teeth and said, “That... is a particularly difficult question. All of us are hired by a kind of dispatcher... we're not told who the main employer is. As you can see by the situation I'm currently in,” he laughed derisively, “they distance themselves for a reason.”
     “I see. In that case, describe for us the contract you were on. The rocket launcher and all that.”
     “It was... simple. I was told by my dispatcher to hide on that rooftop and wait until four men passed by. 'A tall one, a short one, a cloaked one, and a skinny one,' he told me, and handed me a personnel profile for each of you. He then said to kill you all with my RPG as soon as you were sighted.”
     “Did he say why?”
     “No... They never do.”
     Bactus chimed in. “How do we know that what this guy says is true?
     Lodór spoke for Vinrey. “He has no reason to lie. Mercenaries are not meant to fail... this man had no idea who he was dealing with. He will probably defect from the contract and find other work... if his legs heal properly.”
     The assassin just laughed. He had had better days.
     Vinrey said, “We're not going to get any more useful information out of this one. Let's just be thankful that he missed, huh?” He grinned his disarming grin. “Bactus, fire a flare. The ambulances can deal with him.”
     Vinrey turned and walked away. Lodór followed him. Bactus pulled a paper-wrapped rod from a pocket and aimed it at the sky, pulling a string and sending a green flare into the air with a bang. It sailed high and burned brightly, ensuring that someone would see it and investigate. Bactus then collected the RPG and his hammer and walked off.
     Marcus had been wondering what all the smiling and laughing was about when they had very nearly been blown up by a rocket propelled grenade. He decided that he didn't quite understand these people, and that it was something to do with being people that fought other people all the time. Warrior's code and all that. He also decided that he'd work on understanding it some more.
     He turned and left the man in the alley.
     The assassin waited for the four of them to be out of earshot before he contacted his superiors. He was actually amazed that they hadn't searched him, or even made any attempt to tie his arms. The transmitter in his pocket enabled him to contact the dispatcher in the event that anything went wrong. The four people he had been ordered to eliminate (for a very large sum of money) obviously hadn't been that smart. Just lucky.
     He rustled through his camouflage raiment and underneath, going into the pocket where he had placed his communicator.
     It wasn't there.
     He probed the next several pockets where he could have placed it, calmly. He sometimes absentmindedly placed it in a different pocket, it wasn't that unusual.
     He searched every single pocket on every single item of his clothing. His transmitter was missing.
     So was his wallet.
     Maybe those four had been smarter than he had previously estimated.

     Bactus said quietly to Vinrey as they walked, “Conductor, I just thought of something. What if that guy had some kind of talk-box on him? He could just radio in for support. Should we go back and search him? It might already be too late.”
     Looks of worry passed over Bactus and Marcus's faces, but Vinrey and Lódor looked strangely calm.
     Vinrey said, “I already did.” He fished out a small ovular device with an ear-clip and speaker mesh, and a brown leather object.
     Bactus looked confused. “Wait. I was watching him the whole time... did he drop it, or...”
     Lodór said suddenly, “He did it as he was falling.”
     Marcus looked at him with his trademark look of confusion, and Bactus said, “What?”
     Lodór smiled gently for the first time. He didn't show any teeth. “Vinrey searched the assassin while he was falling from the rooftop that you threw him from. Both you and Mr. Black were paying attention to other things, and Vinrey took the short amount of time to search the man and relieve him of any objects that would have made things... inconvenient for us. Such as his communicator. I see that you also liberated him of his wallet, Conductor.”
     Vinrey's grin widened by a few molars. “Cash is cash, I'm afraid. That, and there might be some kind of useful documentation in it. You never know.”
     Lodór nodded sagely. “That is true. You never know.”
     Bactus just took it in stride. He had come to expect things like this from his Conductor. Apparent miracles became commonplace when you traveled with Vinrey.
     Marcus was having a hard time shutting his jaw, as Vinrey kept finding ways to make it drop. Marcus was again left to wonder about his Conductor, this man that he knew so little about and could travel faster than the human eye.
     Vinrey replaced the items in his cloak. He considered using the transmitter in some kind of tricky way, but he decided against it. The dispatcher would instantly realize that this was not the rightful owner of the device and would activate the homing beacon that was sure to be inside it. Plus, if he left everything the way it was, their operation would go undisturbed. Whatever other agents they had in the field would continue searching for them until the assassin they had “encountered” was found and told what happened. Until then, there was no stir-up, and they were (almost) guaranteed safe passage to the Sanguine.
     He tossed the transmitter to the ground and stomped on it carefully,  crushing it to bits.
     Before he fully realized their rate of travel, the four of them had reached the dock where the Sanguine was kept. The engine of the machine gleamed in the street lamps' light, and various crew members' silhouettes could be seen passing in front of the windows.
     Vinrey noticed that another train had pulled into the gate next to theirs. He saw the engine of the craft and nearly shouted in surprise.
     Natalia.
     He said, “Alright, you three, go ahead in and bug Lenny to fix you something to eat. Have a nice time and relax for a few minutes while I take care of some business. Clear?”
     Bactus looked a little concerned, but said, “Crystal, Conductor. C'mon, guys. Let's get some chow.”
     Bactus, Marcus, and Lodór entered the craft, not looking back.
     Vinrey had chosen the wisest path of action, as Natalia was making her way toward him from across the loading crane's bay. He stood there and tried to look nonchalant.
     But he wasn't nonchalant at all. He hadn't seen Natalia in months, and meeting up with her always made him nervous. He didn't even know why. Vinrey was ordinarily a solid, controlled person, but Natalia had a knack for setting him off-balance. Something about her was just jarring, and he could never quite put his finger on what it was.
     She climbed the ladder up from Vinrey's side of the crane bay and walked up to him. From several feet away, it became apparent that Natalia was a woman that didn't have time for dealing with people below her station, and she was readily aware that her station was pretty high up.
     Natalia, or “Nat” to people that knew her well, was a tall, slender woman with broad shoulders and long, flowing brown hair. The lamplight gave her eyeglasses a steely glint that only enhanced the glare that she was currently sending Vinrey's way. Her raiment was similar to most railers', being largely cotton and leather, with lots of pockets and ties. Her black boots rose knee-high, and the ribbon tying her hair back from the breeze was of the same color. Almost everything about her, from the way she dressed to the way she carried herself, gave an impression of toughness.
     She stood with her hands on her hips, keeping up the glare that was making Vinrey very uneasy. She said in a melodic, even voice, “Vinrey Valerion. I'd like to say that I wasn't expecting to see you here, but you show up here almost as often as I do. Got anything to say concerning the last time we met?”
     Vinrey composed. He reprimanded himself for being so irrational, and said, “Hi, Nat. How've you been?”
     She walked over a few steps and slapped him across the face. He saw it coming, but didn't have the heart to stop her, so he just let it happen. He rolled his head with the blow so she didn't hurt herself.
     It still hurt a little.
     “I can't believe you, Vinrey. Of all people, I expected you to have a little more sense. What in the world were you thinking?”
     “Not much at the time, to be honest. I was too busy fighting for our lives.”
     She sighed.
     “Alright. I'll give you that one. All the same, I'd appreciate it if you'd take a little less risk and actually think about what you're doing before you do it. Huh? Next time. Sorry for hitting you.”
     “Yeah. I'll do my best. And, no problem.”
     Natalia smiled. “So. What've you been doing to keep yourself busy? There's been a bit of a recession in contract activity. I haven't had a job since that last one we had together.”
     Vinrey said, “I actually managed to find a bit of work recently, we finished a job a few days ago.”
     Nat replied interestedly, “Really? That's good news. What was the contract?”
     “It was just a bit of minor demolition work. Standard procedure.”
     “Huh. What company put that out? I don't have the equipment for demolition work, I'll have to request a different contract.”
     “It was actually sent to us by a continental demolitions firm. They signed on a job and found out they couldn't get a crew out there in time, so they hired us to get it done for them.”
     “What was the pay?”
     “Just a few thousand. It really wasn't that big of a job, I was kinda disappointed with the payout. But, it's all that's available, I guess. I didn't know there was that bad of a shortage.”
     She looked askance at the Sanguine. “There is. My girls have been gossiping about some corporate warring in the northern provinces. This normally wouldn't be news, but they say something's got them stirred up more than usual. People have been coming down out of Weiland and Orline. No real information's been given yet, but it's starting to get real clear that not a lot of people are happy with the way things are going in the north. This leads me to believe that the corporations are locking up in whatever the hell they're working on up there, and they're not looking for civilian or mercenary assistance.”
     Vinrey was vaguely surprised. If the companies were up to something in the north, some of his friends might be in trouble. He decided once the incident with Marcus and Lodór was over, he would investigate whatever was going on in Weiland.
     He said, “So that explains the job drought. Hope they get everything settled soon, I haven't got a lot of funding saved up.”
     “Tell me about it. I'm gonna have to start selling equipment soon, and the crew are never very happy when that happens.”
     They just looked at each other for a moment.
     She said, “Well Vinrey, I've gotta get back. Just wanted to say hi and ask what's up.”
     Vinrey didn't say anything, electing instead to nod noncommittally .
     A small frown crossed Sera's face as she said, “Is there something wrong, Vinrey? You're being even quieter than usual.”
     Vinrey looked surprised. He replied, “What? No, no, there's nothing wrong. Just... have a few things on my mind. I'm fine.”
     Natalia looked skeptical. Few people in the world were capable of seeing through Vinrey's facades, but Nat was one of them. “Alright then. I'm taking off for now, but if there's anything I can do, let me know, ok?”
     A small smile flickered slightly on Vinrey's face. “Yeah, sure. Later on, then. Rails smooth.”
     “And stars bright. Bye.”
     She walked away, heading for the maintenance ladder to go through the harbor instead of around it. Before she climbed down, however, she turned around and called, “Vinrey! Tomorrow, I want to talk to you about some stuff. We can catch up! Meet me at Harlington's at three, okay?”
     Vinrey thought for a moment. What was going on tomorrow? Nothing that he could remember. Okay. “Um... yeah! Yeah, okay! I'll be there!”
     She flashed her charming smile and ducked down the ladder, headed for her crew and her train.
     He didn't hang around. He walked to the embarking platform and hopped up the steps into the engine, preparing for what was almost certainly going to be a strange, revealing talk with some very strange, disparate people.

Description
     Echoes.
     Every sound repeated evenly to a predetermined pattern. Reflections.
     Combinations.
     Remembrance.

     The charred, blackened embers of what used to be the Redfield station smoldered and smoked under the desert stars. A few embers still glowed, and scraps of fluttering debris and ash blew in the breeze. The melted and twisted fragments of metal supports and infrastructure thrown across the site marked the would-be graves of the one hundred and ninety-nine people that died there.
     In the center of the wreckage, a small speck, nearly invisible to the human eye, was blowing about in the wind. It was no different than any of the other motes of ash that were drifting on the gusts, and an average person wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary. A physicist may have, however, observed that it wasn't quite moving with the speed that it was supposed to be. The wind was relatively strong, yet... this mote moved slowly and heavily, resisting the wind and traveling in a perfectly straight line, as if it had a mind of its own and knew exactly where it was going.
     The small, black spot suddenly halted in its path, stopping in midair and defying the wind.
     The small fires that were still glowing despite the cool desert temperatures cast a red, flickering light on the mote, and it began to grow in size. It seemed to draw sustenance from the flames, aggregating form and purpose from them, resulting in a roughly person-sized glob of amorphous black substance whose origins were a mystery.
     Sounds began to breach the silence of the night, and they came from this new darkness. Voices whispered in anticipation, shrieks of pain and roars of defiance, none of them human in timbre or cadence.
     Suddenly, the black form halted its aimless movements, and the voices silenced. Cracks of a pearly white color webbed across it, as though it had been struck by an invisible hammer. The cracks pooled together and formed a single white orb, which moved toward the top of the form. The shape itself was straightening and becoming a distinct towering thing, with flares and filigrees of darkness spiraling away from it.
     This large, black form was taller than most men by several heads, and seemed to take on the shape of a black cloaked figure, shoulders rounded as if hiding from something or someone. It was headless, with the white orb centered near the neck would have began.
     It spoke into the darkness of its own accord, as if it was conversing with something that wasn't there. Its voice was echoing and ethereal, deep and powerful enough to rattle glass panes, yet with a strange quality of distance, as if it were being heard through a vast mountain range.
     “No... No, it cannot be done now. It is not possible...”
     “Other things have come... it is different now...”
     “Yes... yes... we must find it. The... ghost, it is here...”
     “These things... take time. We must bide our time...”
     “Subdue the ghost... reunite... reclaim... cleanse. For the world...”
     It began to move distractedly among the wreckage at a slow pace, passing through the debris itself as it it wasn't there. It moved with a purpose and without fault, picking its path carefully, as if it was looking for something.

     Vinrey loomed over his prisoner with the air of a man that wants answers, and wants them sooner rather than later.
     His captured was lying on the ground before him, bleeding profusely from his shattered legs and letting out the occasional cry of agony. His black camouflage rags were staining to a deep red, and he knew that if he did not cooperate with these men, he would die, either by gunshot, a hammer blow, or blood loss.
     He also knew that if he divulged too much or the wrong kind of information, death would be dealt to him by a higher hand. He would have to go about this carefully, if he wanted to escape all this with his life.
     Bactus privately hoped that the stupid wannabe assassin would resist so he could smash his legs some more. Bactus liked smashing the legs of people that shot rockets at him.
     Marcus held his rifle at the inefficient killer's head. He didn't want to kill him, and wouldn't even try unless Vinrey commanded him to. And even then, he wasn't sure he could. It was more for effect than anything else.
     The man asked in a voice that was very obviously in the worst kind of pain, “What do you want to know?”
     Vinrey said calmly, “Telling us who you work for would be a good place to start.”
     The man grit his teeth and said, “That... is a particularly difficult question. All of us are hired by a kind of dispatcher... we're not told who the main employer is. As you can see by the situation I'm currently in,” he laughed derisively, “they distance themselves for a reason.”
     “I see. In that case, describe for us the contract you were on. The rocket launcher and all that.”
     “It was... simple. I was told by my dispatcher to hide on that rooftop and wait until four men passed by. 'A tall one, a short one, a cloaked one, and a skinny one,' he told me, and handed me a personnel profile for each of you. He then said to kill you all with my RPG as soon as you were sighted.”
     “Did he say why?”
     “No... They never do.”
     Bactus chimed in. “How do we know that what this guy says is true?
     Lodór spoke for Vinrey. “He has no reason to lie. Mercenaries are not meant to fail... this man had no idea who he was dealing with. He will probably defect from the contract and find other work... if his legs heal properly.”
     The assassin just laughed. He had had better days.
     Vinrey said, “We're not going to get any more useful information out of this one. Let's just be thankful that he missed, huh?” He grinned his disarming grin. “Bactus, fire a flare. The ambulances can deal with him.”
     Vinrey turned and walked away. Lodór followed him. Bactus pulled a paper-wrapped rod from a pocket and aimed it at the sky, pulling a string and sending a green flare into the air with a bang. It sailed high and burned brightly, ensuring that someone would see it and investigate. Bactus then collected the RPG and his hammer and walked off.
     Marcus had been wondering what all the smiling and laughing was about when they had very nearly been blown up by a rocket propelled grenade. He decided that he didn't quite understand these people, and that it was something to do with being people that fought other people all the time. Warrior's code and all that. He also decided that he'd work on understanding it some more.
     He turned and left the man in the alley.
     The assassin waited for the four of them to be out of earshot before he contacted his superiors. He was actually amazed that they hadn't searched him, or even made any attempt to tie his arms. The transmitter in his pocket enabled him to contact the dispatcher in the event that anything went wrong. The four people he had been ordered to eliminate (for a very large sum of money) obviously hadn't been that smart. Just lucky.
     He rustled through his camouflage raiment and underneath, going into the pocket where he had placed his communicator.
     It wasn't there.
     He probed the next several pockets where he could have placed it, calmly. He sometimes absentmindedly placed it in a different pocket, it wasn't that unusual.
     He searched every single pocket on every single item of his clothing. His transmitter was missing.
     So was his wallet.
     Maybe those four had been smarter than he had previously estimated.

     Bactus said quietly to Vinrey as they walked, “Conductor, I just thought of something. What if that guy had some kind of talk-box on him? He could just radio in for support. Should we go back and search him? It might already be too late.”
     Looks of worry passed over Bactus and Marcus's faces, but Vinrey and Lódor looked strangely calm.
     Vinrey said, “I already did.” He fished out a small ovular device with an ear-clip and speaker mesh, and a brown leather object.
     Bactus looked confused. “Wait. I was watching him the whole time... did he drop it, or...”
     Lodór said suddenly, “He did it as he was falling.”
     Marcus looked at him with his trademark look of confusion, and Bactus said, “What?”
     Lodór smiled gently for the first time. He didn't show any teeth. “Vinrey searched the assassin while he was falling from the rooftop that you threw him from. Both you and Mr. Black were paying attention to other things, and Vinrey took the short amount of time to search the man and relieve him of any objects that would have made things... inconvenient for us. Such as his communicator. I see that you also liberated him of his wallet, Conductor.”
     Vinrey's grin widened by a few molars. “Cash is cash, I'm afraid. That, and there might be some kind of useful documentation in it. You never know.”
     Lodór nodded sagely. “That is true. You never know.”
     Bactus just took it in stride. He had come to expect things like this from his Conductor. Apparent miracles became commonplace when you traveled with Vinrey.
     Marcus was having a hard time shutting his jaw, as Vinrey kept finding ways to make it drop. Marcus was again left to wonder about his Conductor, this man that he knew so little about and could travel faster than the human eye.
     Vinrey replaced the items in his cloak. He considered using the transmitter in some kind of tricky way, but he decided against it. The dispatcher would instantly realize that this was not the rightful owner of the device and would activate the homing beacon that was sure to be inside it. Plus, if he left everything the way it was, their operation would go undisturbed. Whatever other agents they had in the field would continue searching for them until the assassin they had “encountered” was found and told what happened. Until then, there was no stir-up, and they were (almost) guaranteed safe passage to the Sanguine.
     He tossed the transmitter to the ground and stomped on it carefully,  crushing it to bits.
     Before he fully realized their rate of travel, the four of them had reached the dock where the Sanguine was kept. The engine of the machine gleamed in the street lamps' light, and various crew members' silhouettes could be seen passing in front of the windows.
     Vinrey noticed that another train had pulled into the gate next to theirs. He saw the engine of the craft and nearly shouted in surprise.
     Natalia.
     He said, “Alright, you three, go ahead in and bug Lenny to fix you something to eat. Have a nice time and relax for a few minutes while I take care of some business. Clear?”
     Bactus looked a little concerned, but said, “Crystal, Conductor. C'mon, guys. Let's get some chow.”
     Bactus, Marcus, and Lodór entered the craft, not looking back.
     Vinrey had chosen the wisest path of action, as Natalia was making her way toward him from across the loading crane's bay. He stood there and tried to look nonchalant.
     But he wasn't nonchalant at all. He hadn't seen Natalia in months, and meeting up with her always made him nervous. He didn't even know why. Vinrey was ordinarily a solid, controlled person, but Natalia had a knack for setting him off-balance. Something about her was just jarring, and he could never quite put his finger on what it was.
     She climbed the ladder up from Vinrey's side of the crane bay and walked up to him. From several feet away, it became apparent that Natalia was a woman that didn't have time for dealing with people below her station, and she was readily aware that her station was pretty high up.
     Natalia, or “Nat” to people that knew her well, was a tall, slender woman with broad shoulders and long, flowing brown hair. The lamplight gave her eyeglasses a steely glint that only enhanced the glare that she was currently sending Vinrey's way. Her raiment was similar to most railers', being largely cotton and leather, with lots of pockets and ties. Her black boots rose knee-high, and the ribbon tying her hair back from the breeze was of the same color. Almost everything about her, from the way she dressed to the way she carried herself, gave an impression of toughness.
     She stood with her hands on her hips, keeping up the glare that was making Vinrey very uneasy. She said in a melodic, even voice, “Vinrey Valerion. I'd like to say that I wasn't expecting to see you here, but you show up here almost as often as I do. Got anything to say concerning the last time we met?”
     Vinrey composed. He reprimanded himself for being so irrational, and said, “Hi, Nat. How've you been?”
     She walked over a few steps and slapped him across the face. He saw it coming, but didn't have the heart to stop her, so he just let it happen. He rolled his head with the blow so she didn't hurt herself.
     It still hurt a little.
     “I can't believe you, Vinrey. Of all people, I expected you to have a little more sense. What in the world were you thinking?”
     “Not much at the time, to be honest. I was too busy fighting for our lives.”
     She sighed.
     “Alright. I'll give you that one. All the same, I'd appreciate it if you'd take a little less risk and actually think about what you're doing before you do it. Huh? Next time. Sorry for hitting you.”
     “Yeah. I'll do my best. And, no problem.”
     Natalia smiled. “So. What've you been doing to keep yourself busy? There's been a bit of a recession in contract activity. I haven't had a job since that last one we had together.”
     Vinrey said, “I actually managed to find a bit of work recently, we finished a job a few days ago.”
     Nat replied interestedly, “Really? That's good news. What was the contract?”
     “It was just a bit of minor demolition work. Standard procedure.”
     “Huh. What company put that out? I don't have the equipment for demolition work, I'll have to request a different contract.”
     “It was actually sent to us by a continental demolitions firm. They signed on a job and found out they couldn't get a crew out there in time, so they hired us to get it done for them.”
     “What was the pay?”
     “Just a few thousand. It really wasn't that big of a job, I was kinda disappointed with the payout. But, it's all that's available, I guess. I didn't know there was that bad of a shortage.”
     She looked askance at the Sanguine. “There is. My girls have been gossiping about some corporate warring in the northern provinces. This normally wouldn't be news, but they say something's got them stirred up more than usual. People have been coming down out of Weiland and Orline. No real information's been given yet, but it's starting to get real clear that not a lot of people are happy with the way things are going in the north. This leads me to believe that the corporations are locking up in whatever the hell they're working on up there, and they're not looking for civilian or mercenary assistance.”
     Vinrey was vaguely surprised. If the companies were up to something in the north, some of his friends might be in trouble. He decided once the incident with Marcus and Lodór was over, he would investigate whatever was going on in Weiland.
     He said, “So that explains the job drought. Hope they get everything settled soon, I haven't got a lot of funding saved up.”
     “Tell me about it. I'm gonna have to start selling equipment soon, and the crew are never very happy when that happens.”
     They just looked at each other for a moment.
     She said, “Well Vinrey, I've gotta get back. Just wanted to say hi and ask what's up.”
     Vinrey didn't say anything, electing instead to nod noncommittally .
     A small frown crossed Sera's face as she said, “Is there something wrong, Vinrey? You're being even quieter than usual.”
     Vinrey looked surprised. He replied, “What? No, no, there's nothing wrong. Just... have a few things on my mind. I'm fine.”
     Natalia looked skeptical. Few people in the world were capable of seeing through Vinrey's facades, but Nat was one of them. “Alright then. I'm taking off for now, but if there's anything I can do, let me know, ok?”
     A small smile flickered slightly on Vinrey's face. “Yeah, sure. Later on, then. Rails smooth.”
     “And stars bright. Bye.”
     She walked away, heading for the maintenance ladder to go through the harbor instead of around it. Before she climbed down, however, she turned around and called, “Vinrey! Tomorrow, I want to talk to you about some stuff. We can catch up! Meet me at Harlington's at three, okay?”
     Vinrey thought for a moment. What was going on tomorrow? Nothing that he could remember. Okay. “Um... yeah! Yeah, okay! I'll be there!”
     She flashed her charming smile and ducked down the ladder, headed for her crew and her train.
     He didn't hang around. He walked to the embarking platform and hopped up the steps into the engine, preparing for what was almost certainly going to be a strange, revealing talk with some very strange, disparate people.