Smoke and Mirrors

[Zapp]

Previously...

Twas a slow day. The sluggish Hunters, ne'er-do-wells, and various detritus of society dragged themselves across the bar, seeming to not have energy even to lift their glasses to their lips. Beads of perspiration slowly dripped down glasses and humans alike. It wasn't a heat wave, but it sure as hell felt like it. For some reason, stations seemed to have seasons just like planets, only more random. A lethargic Esther Carson sat at the bar, hand cradling her first drink which she had yet to separate from the wooden surface. Fake wood, more than likely, but no one seemed to care.

She stifled a yawn behind her free hand and decided to go to bed, though she didn't move really. Just sat there.

It was a surprising break in the monotony when staccato notes sang from her pocket, high-pitched and urgent. A leaden hand lifted the comm-device to her face, and it extended to reach from her ear to her mouth.

"This. Had. Better. Be. Good."

A muttered voice from the other side served only to narrow her eyes in suspicion, and she placed the comm-device back into her pocket after a minute. Slowly, she slid off the stool and walked out the door. Her slow pace didn't change as she practically dragged herself to a distant office on Sheffield. It was spartanly furnished, with a small video-viewer on a table. No one was inside, but the viewer framed the face of a man.

"The renowned Esther Carson," he drawled out, making it sound like a flourish and grandiose announcement at the same time. "One of the best, they say."

"Bloody smoke and mirrors," she muttered to herself, not liking how this was playing out. "Yes, that is indeed what they say. Now, the point?"

"Concise and to the point. I like that, Miss Carson," he seemed to pause, considering his choice of wording. "I need two people found. Discreetly. They're hiding, of course. I'll have files sent to your room...?"

"Whatever. I expect the pay is good?" her flippant attitude masked her silent eagerness, if this was what she expected it was...

"Quite."

"Let me guess," she said, rather slowly. She was choosing what to say herself, now. This was obviously not the little league. "Taviz Fyren and Anne Paige?"

It was a flicker of facial muscles, not a flinch, but at the least a well-guarded one. He hadn't expected her to jump to the right conclusion so quickly, obviously. A triumphant smile played across her face. "I like to be informed. Jack." With that, she walked out of the room. The man mused a moment, mulling over whether he had made a wise choice or not. But if anyone could find them, it was her.

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