It always was a thrill sneaking through security, though basically perfect forgeries and identities were a dime a dozen for someone with the resources of a capsuleer, sneaking past a Federal ID checkpoint always served to pour in the adrenaline. One person ahead of me, a short, loud and rather foul smelling Intaki businessman chatted with the security as they read through his paperwork. Though corruption had fairly gutted most of the credibility of anyone on this planet but the federal guards, they were still serious. I moved up, my turn.
The fedralist stared at my ID and then back up to me, quiet as he regarded yet another minmatar worker staring down at him. He took his time checking my name against various warrants, known criminals, CONCORD pirates. I showed up in none, well, I guess I should say that my current ID showed up in none of the databases and I was shuttled through as just another traveller, a migrant worker even, my pod jacks hidden by the tall collars of my currently in fashion jacket. It was a small grace against the hot wind blowing in from outside, but a welcome distraction from any further questions.
I had taken more detours and shuttles than I could count. If it weren't for the small computer keeping track of my movements, I would have been lost by now. Instead after just short of 24 hours of travel, and 20 hours of sleep. I was inside the, well let's just call it, personal hell. At least it wouldn't be for much longer, if everything went to plan.
It had been a while since I last stepped foot planet side. Dust tickled my nose as I stepped outside, the planets 1.13g, more than what I was used to, but not uncomfortably so. To fit in a bit more I had removed the spikes from my forehead, dropping them off along the way, along with my other piercings. It was tough to fit in more than that, even on a Gallente world.
The first stop was to a small apartment I rented months prior, a change of clothes immersing me into the local culture. Tight leather greyish pants hugged my body closely, a red and white slashed t-shirt covered my chest, I slipped of my more simple sneakers in favor of heavier boots. I stopped by the mirror, chuckling at the image, briefly wondering what Usagi would think. Turning slightly, I think I knew. I waited for the flush of that thought to clear my cheeks before heading back out.
My usual mohawk somewhat subdued after hours of travel, drooping more from the heat in the air. Moving through the streets unnoticed was easy, even if people had been paying attention. Eyes down, minding my own business I easily escaped notice of the three Police just outside the hotel, not that anyone would have reason to expect any trouble. I certainly didn't. The lobby was nice enough, squalor by podder standards of course, a simple polished rock entry way, with a small bar to the left.
The bar was less than impressive, the heat in the bar some ten times that of the outside. Probably to let the men and women inside wear as little clothing as possible. The heat formed pinpricks of sweat on my forehead, joined quickly by the rest of my body. I brushed the sweat off my forehead irritably with the back of my hand, scanning the bar, heading to one of the tables in the back.
I had to weave through several throngs of dancing teens, the table I was headed to had five occupants already, a bit older than the rest of the crowd, but still unconsciously swaying to the beat of the music thrumming through the air.
They turned as I approached, one of their team holding a gun on me. I hoped they remembered me, or I would be off to a bad start.
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