Carth's magical adventure, ROUND TWO, MOTHERFUCKERS!

[Carthrat]

"Eight years," grunts Carthrat. "Eight years too many. I *knew* I should've pronounced a long 'ahhh'."

[Anastasia]

"More likely you should take a long refresher in the tounge. Your accent was...well, nevermind," he says, brushing it away. "What are you looking for?"

[Carthrat]

"A ship. Or passage. All is good," replies Carthrat.

[Anastasia]

"Perhaps we should discuss this privately?" he asks. "I have a rather quiet, secluded apartment for these matters that we can visit." He frowns, as if recalling something. "I've had a few...incidents with loose lips around here before, I'm afraid."

[Carthrat]

"Right," replies Carthrat. "Is it nearby?"

[Anastasia]

"It's within walking distance," he says. He shifts, standing up straight. He's rather tall, over six feet. He looks to be all bones, though. "Watch over the store, Kenjiro." he says, glancing at this son(?).

[Carthrat]

"Let's go, then. Rachel, stick around here and grab these things for me," says Carthrat, pulling out a notepad and scribbling down a few items-

SCUBA gear
Fluroscent lightsticks
Solid Oxygen
Plasticine
A bottle of vodka
Anything packaged in styrofoam
A carton of petrol.
Bottle of Mace.

"Just stick in the car, and, uh, buy whatever else, I suppose," he finishes, giving his credit card to her. "It's really important," he calls as he walks out.

[Anastasia]

Her cry of, "Hey, I wanted to go with yo-" is cut off as you exit the store.

A few blocks later, you come to a dingy three story rise. It looks to be used for a mix of business and apartments, with tenants living above their stores.  He leads you inisde the dirty gray building, and to the third floor. Inside it is nicer, with freshly painted whitewall and floors that look like they've been cleaned in the past month.  Going to the door closest to the street wall, it opens into a nicely decorated apartment.

If said apartment was in, oh say, the Rigelian Empire or the Debonairian Cluster.

The room is one big, sleek metal design. Highly reflective and polished gray metal arches out of the floor to form chairs, tables and counters in the surprisingly large apartment. It's been a long time since you've seen something like this.

Too long?

[Carthrat]

"Where'dya get all this junk imported from?" asks Carthrat, looking around the room nonchalantly.

At least as nonchalantly as one would be after meeting, say, their long-lost sister of 20 years ago.

[Anastasia]

"Oh, from here and there," he says, sitting down on what looks to be a metal couch. "I have money and time, so forming a nice pocket of civilisation on this backwater isn't that difficult."

[Carthrat]

"Bah, you just have no appreciation," replies Carthrat, good-naturedly. "The cradle of humanity gets that little respect? For shame, for shame.

But business. What, uh, travel plans are you offering?"

[Anastasia]

He laughs good naturdly. "Yes, a cradle is perfect for this infant race," he says. That raises a mental alert. That particular phrase is used by the Rigelians in describing almost any other race besides their own.  

And the Rigelians tend to be difficult people to deal with, in battle or otherwise.

"But yes, let's get down to business. You want off this rock, I assume?"

[Carthrat]

For fucks sake, the last thing I need is a bloody ancient no-hoper with no balls of his own to start getting on my case. Bah. I already wanna shoot him and take his ship.

"Yeah. If you can only give me passage, not an actual ship, I wanna go to a gambling hall," replies Carthrat.

[Anastasia]

"Well, you are in luck, my friend," he says warmly, in the way all salesmen do. "In their ever vigilant quest to provide lush facilities away from any prying eyes," which even to you easily is read as - any form of governmental authority, "A group has opened a new gambling hall relatively close to this planet. Are you familiar with Charon, the moon of the ninth planet of this system?"

You recall that many gambling halls prefer a distance from authority in many sectors, using out of the way locals to hide from anyone who may take a taxable or legal interest in their operations. Having one in this pissant system sounds like a good idea, from a non - Earth perspective.

[Carthrat]

"Yeah. Been there. It's fucking freezing," replies Carthrat. "Is that the one where some clown tried to start up a Kryhtalite mine?"