Rochester Inn

[Knuthetal]

Noam was in trouble - whiskey? Damnation, he should have seen it coming. Breathe in, breathe out. Can't exactly afford to offend the Hacker. There there, what do we do? "We? Talking to yourself again, eh?", a thought blazed past, "Just thinking, that doesn't count.", its wingman followed. Breathe in, breathe out. Blast it all, and he can't exactly share the details on what he knows - he wouldn't like to see the girl dead, and nice as the Junkers was, there could always be a Bounty Hunter ear around...

And then - a saving grace - a broken ship! Okay, he might just be able to pull this off. Come on, Noam, you've spent the better part of your life not leting people in on what you were thinking, don't break the habit just now. One, two...

"I've always been more of a tea man, myself, so hold on to that glass there, and let me hold on to the bill. Now, what do I need is simple - a place to keep safe, and a bunch of folks not willing to shoot me in the back, for a change. They seem to share my taste for technical contraptions, too. About that - you, or your tech, anyway, seem to be having some teething problems with your hardware... anything I could help you with? I'm quite good with it, and when I say quite good, I mean one of the best."

A spark flickered in his eye - all of a sudden, he seemed to radiate a chilly aura of technical perfection. Machines, faults, fixes - after gasping to find words, like a gasping for air on the surface, he was back in his element, and it showed.

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