Brad entered the room and eyed the trees swaying in an artificial breeze before taking his seat at a table in the far corner. An attendant quickly appeared to take his drink order before quickly disappearing. Brad then sipped the whiskey that was placed before him appreciatively while waiting for this "Keller".
A Stinger fighter came out of the Jump Hole from the Sigmas into Theta. It hung in space for a moment, scanning it's surroundings briefly before vanishing from sight in a flash of light. Approximately 10 minutes later, it reappeared near Freeport 9, nearly giving the control tower a heartattack.
"This is Stinger 773. Requesting permission to land." came a muffled voice from the communication array.
"Uh, copy that Stinger 773. You scared the bejesus out of us with that cloak. Try not to do that, please. You're cleared for dock 3."
"Copy that. Proceeding to dock 3."
He cancelled the request for the automated landing system and expertly flew the small fighter into the landing bay where he docked to the mooring point onboard the station. As the cockpit opened, a man in powered armor exited the ship and stepped onto the floor. He spoke briefly with the dockworkers on what needed replenished and restocked before departing for the bar.
An attendant approached the man in the armor but he waved her away. He didn't drink or intake anything that dulled his senses. It was far too risky to do anywhere in space. He looked around but didn't see anyone that stood out. He approached the bartender, nodding as he looked up.
"I'm looking for a Doctor Brandon Wright. Do you know where I can find him?" he asked. His voice coming through modulated slightly so as to disguise his voice.
The bartender nodded slowly and pointed to a booth nearby without taking his eyes off the strange man in the powered armor.
"Thank you."
He turned and walked towards the booth. As he approached, he stopped short of sitting down, placing his arms behind his back, the servo's in the suit audibly straining due to overuse.
"Doctor Brandon Wright I assume. My name is Keller. I believe we have business to discuss."
You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark. Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.
Brandon grinned slightly and gestured to the table in front of him. "Indeed, the waiter will bring over whatever you desire. But, perhaps we should get down to business. Its not often someone wants to restore an antique with modern equipment". He chuckled at his own joke before pulling out a scanner and laying it on the table. "We'll want a full rendering of the suit to start. So, start stripping, and no you won't be getting any credits out of me so don't bother with a show."
"No." the armored man simply said, ignoring the joke uttered by the doctor. "I don't get out of this suit except in the privacy of my own company." He turned the back of his wrist to face him and tapped a few controls on the screen there bringing up measurements. "I don't mean to be difficult, but this armor is as much physical protection as it is protection for my identity. Here you will find my present measurements. I can ensure you that they are accurate."
With a few quick taps of his screen, he sent the measurements to the Doctor's small scanner before moving to sit across from the gentlemen. As he did so, the booth groaned in complaint under the weight of the armor as if threatening to break into kindling.
"Additionally, I have a small team nearby your station in Tau-23 with materials that might aid you in the development of the armor. APM Hardware in particular, smuggled out from Omicron Rho and under the nose of the Core. It was not easy to obtain, but I felt it would aid you in the development. Say the word and I can have them meet one of your people to move it to your station."
You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark. Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.
Brandon tried somewhat to hide his small eye roll. "antique equipment and APM hardware.". He tapped hurriedly as new data crossed his pad. "So, any specific wants, or just the usual, energy dispersal shielding, kinetic armor, rebreather." Brad produced another tablet, somewhat smaller this time, he slid it across the table. "Pass the codes on here along to your team, it will grand them authorization to land, we've set aside Section 52, Deck 3 for this project. A nice quiet part of Ikarus."
"Indeed. The usual plus a few additions." he said sliding over a small tablet of his own. He once again turned his wrist towards himself and keyed in a transfer to the newly produced tablet. There was a pregnant pause before he continued. "I noticed that you rolled your eyes at the statement of APM Hardware. I have been away for some time, but I was lead to believe that APM Hardware was one of the more advanced set of materials amongst Sirius since I've returned. Is this not the case?"
"Additionally, I have transferred further information on the current armor's technology, which at the time of it's construction 12 years ago it was top of the line, and many of my theories involving other possibilities to add to the armor. Things that are highly theoretical at this time. Things such as personal cloaking and other advanced possibilities. I have some schooling in the realm of scientific theorem and would like you to review them to see if they are...feasible."
He continued. "Lastly, there is the concern of your initial response in our transmission to you. Before we begin on the project itself, I would like assurances from you that any technology developed under this contract is not to be ever repeated again for another client, all information is deleted from your servers, and all information related to the armor itself is given to me as soon as it is finished. Again, I'm sorry to be difficult but trust is a commodity in short supply these days. As it is, I'm not too keen on another party developing the technology but I presently lack the capabilities (such as a lab) to do so myself."
Once he finished his piece, he looked down to the tablet he was given. He downloaded the materials to the armor and passed the tablet back across the table. "I will instruct my team to rendezvous with yours at this, Ikarus Station, to deliver the APM materials they have on hand. Hopefully it will help your team in the development of the armor."
You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark. Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.
![[Image: chelidonia_promontory__1_by_siamon89-d68qqqz.jpg]](http://pre12.deviantart.net/dbf6/th/pre/i/2016/018/8/2/chelidonia_promontory__1_by_siamon89-d68qqqz.jpg)
