The Den, Oyster Creek [XA- or Allies only]

[|nfrared]

The contact loomed out of the darkness, an intimidating silhouette against the static discharges lighting up the debris every few seconds. Then the console began to beep in front of Jimmy and Deidre.

"Proximity alert. All Weapons are powered down."

"It's a Gunboat, we'll have to extend the docking arm. Watch for snags, we don't want this getting twisted up."

With the arm connected to the Navy gunship, Deidre got up from her console.

"I'm going down to the hangar. Stay here and comm me if anything else develops. I'll try and make this quick". She grabbed some documents, the carefully prepared ones for this visit.

Jimmy watched her leave. He was lucky to have her, he mused. He turned his attention back to the console.

----

Deidre entered the hangar just as the Navy group was departing their ship. She was dressed simply, practically, with no effort to emphasise her good looks. She held herself with the air of someone in a position of authority, as being impromtu base administrator tends to do to a person.

"Captain Lambert, I am Deidre, and I admistrate this station. We spoke via the communications last week. Welcome to Oyster Creek, our scrapping facility and small area of isolation. Don't worry too much about the crew, they are isolationists and will keep to themselves. We are loosely affiliated with Zoners who sometimes run us supplies, but most of our business occurs through Freelance operations."

Deidre was interupted by a bright flash and the sounds of the station groaning under some strain. The lights flickered for a breif second, then resumed full power.

"You will notice we are on the edge of the Negra, enough to be a deterent for random visitors. Those types of surges and false alarms are pretty normal under the circumstances. Any further into the Pequena and our operation wouldn't be feasable."

Deidre stopped there, trying not to rush things and giving the Captain a chance to speak.