A-32

Joeyray's Bar
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Glaring at the image, Mel twirled a wrench in her hand. "Then how in earthen hell am I supposed to do my job if I don't know what job it's for? You want me to fix stuff properly, then I need to know why it broke in the first place."
"That's fine I'm not much for drinking anyway." I chuckle dryly and shift my weight a bit. "You done?"
@Thundercrash

"Those instructions will be provided to you. You will receive a PDA along with other items and instructions in the accommodation area."

@TLM

"Step through the right door and head for Accommodations.
"Thank you." I say curtly as I walk through the door and head to Accommodations.
Rolling her eyes, Mel sighed. "Whatever. Hurry up then, I've got work to do."
Both Melody and Kisha Moto are in the Accommodations area.
Walking out of the Processing room, Mel once again pulled her little project from her belt. Sourly wrenching a bolt into place, she barely glanced at where she was going. Going back underground. Theratin all over again. Striding forward, she accidentally bumped the shoulder of a woman in a camo jacket, catching sight of a handgun holstered at her hip.

[You're move, morph]
bah ... darn you thunder ...

IC:
I look at the woman that had just bumped into me. "Hey mind watching where your going?" I then grumble something about techies.
Done for the night.
Turning, Mel gazed cooly at the woman. "Pick up the pace then. I ain't got time to be dawdlin around."
"So far as I know you don't even have anything to go fix so cool your jets. If regulations here are anything like standard Dominion regs messing with the security ain't exactly your best idea." I give the tech a cold glare before heading off to sit down as far away from her as I could.
Rolling her eyes, Mel took a few steps forward, then sighed. Fekkin perfect, Mel. You're already pissin people off, and you ain't even got a place to live yet. Turning, she strode up to the woman.

"Sorry 'bout that. Been a couple years since I was planetside last, and bein outta a shop makes me irritable. Besides, this place is run by the Dominion, there's always something broken when it's run by them." She jerked her chin at her. "Name's Mel. You get tossed on this hunka dirt, or you come here yourself."
I look up with a sigh and faint glare that disappears quickly. "Kisha. Assigned and it beats some of the other dirt clods I've been on. Course I've never really wanted the 'good' assignments." I say opening up a bit. I look over at my bag having hoped for a bit of time to myself despite being in a public place. My hand was resting protectively on the bag the few most precious things to me reside in that bag.
Dropping down into a seat beside her, Mel turned her attention back to the pile of spare parts in her hand. "Same here. Used to be in 13th fleet. Got tossed here, and wasn't even told why. Makes me suspicious enough." Screwing another bolt into place, she slipped the construct back into her backpack. "Still, probably safer than most places around Koprulu. Not even Korhal's safe anymore, though I say it's about time. Bad, but it's true."

Sighing, she stretched out and closed her eyes. "Mind wakin me if I get called? Two weeks in transport, doesn't help with planet side adjustment." She briefly cracked an eye open. "Oh, and you touch my bag, I bury a wrench in your skull. It's all I have."
I nod giving a weak chuckle. "Sure." I pull my bag onto my lap and unzip it. Slipping my hand in, I rummage for a moment before pulling out a small picture frame. There were two adults, a young teenaged girl and a young boy, who was sitting in the arms of the adult male. With a sigh I run my thumb over the glass wishing to be able to actually touch three of the faces in the picture. Get a hold of yourself. You've been mourning for the past 5 fekking years it's time to move on. There's nothing you could have done or can do anyway. The only alternative would have been to die with them. I put the picture away in my bag and wipe away a few tears before waiting for my or mel's name to be called.
IC:
Dressed well but not fancy, Nathan leans up against the wall his hands resting in the pockets of his jeans by his thumbs. A suitcase/backpack hybrid rests by his feet as wary hazel eyes check the corners and the other people in the room out of pure habit.
Hmmmm...would there happen to be a shooting range somewhere?
Mikael looks up from his computer at the two women.

"Quarreling," he mutters. "Typical."

He resumes typing.
KO ... I'm pretty sure your char isn't in the accommodations roo.m with Mel and Keisha.
He is. Smylez hasn't had him called to a desk yet. In case you forgot, KO was called in before you, Morph.

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