Empress and the Wolf

[Empress]

Hayes had set down her Bastet an hour or so prior. Although the Order fighter was far from a common sight at the Freeport, the locals were used to the large variety of ships that stopped by, some more exotic than others. Still, it was unavoidable that a few heads were turned when the ship was temporarily brought lower to the ground for her to disembark.

Cassandra herself, however, did her best to look a lot less remarkable than her means of transport. She was wearing a light brown sweatshirt and loose-fitting, grayish-green cargo pants. Her compact, standard-issue neutron pistol was concealed in a holster inside her waistband. Her reddish brown hair was the only thing that'd stand out - a little - in a crowd.

She made her way to a quiet corner of the hangar, leaning against a wall. Watching ships come and go, she couldn't help but second-guess her decision to come to the station. The risks of this meeting far outweighed any potential benefits. Before she could reconsider, however, a beat-up Werewolf caught her eye. Not long after the rugged - if not outright dangerous - looking man left his ship, she decided to approach him.

She held up one hand, attempting to get his attention.

"Take it you're Hemlocke?"