A mysterious dun-garbed figure, wearing a knee-length grey-brown coat over a shirt and pants the same colour, steps out of the shade as Sawyer walks past. The figure is female, but you wouldn't know it just from looking at her. A broad brimmed hat sits on her head and covers short, straight, dull-brown hair. The face is tanned but not dark, just of someone used to spending time outside in the sun rather than someone born with darker skin. She has no<i>visible </i>weapons, but none the less walks with the confidence of one who knows that she is the most dangerous person in the locality.<br/><br/>Those around her barely notice her, which is as she wants it. She steps up beside Sawyer and matches his pace. "Hello, sheriff. Don't stop, just keep walking." Her voice is soft, barely audible over the sounds of the station, and husky in a way that is grating rather than sexy, making it difficult to teher gender from her voice either. "I have a message for you from The Boss. Your last shipment was short by several head and your current shipment is overdue. Did you think we would not notice? You have a week to make up the shortfall and your next shipment had better be up to quota and on time, or you will find yourself as part of the one after."<br/><br/>The figure spares a glance for Quinn. "A personal pet? Interesting. Perhaps she would appreciate a change of ownership? She would fetch a good price on the open market. Perhaps, Mister Sawyer, if you were to, say, offer me a gift, I might be able to adjust things so you would look like you are ahead ... No? She means that much to you? A pity. Maybe I could borrow her some time..."<br/><br/>And with that, the figure turns and vanishes into the crowd of similarly clad people.<br/><br/>Colonel Shaneil Fios stopped beside a market stall selling fresh waterfruit. She turned and looked at the man this township looked to for protection. He was scum, but he was useful scum. The Dictator's orders to her were clear: Get him back on the top of his game. He'd been slipping of late, getting lax. As one of the Dictator's prime trouble shooters her role here was to light a fire under Sawyer's arse and make sure he started earning his keep properly again.<br/><br/>She had discovered a weakness. The girl he called Quinn was special in some way. Probably not a romantic attachment, Sawyer had no such capability, and she doubted it was financial either. Quinn... Quinn... The name did ring a bell.<br/><br/>Didn't that bounty hunter Gabriel have a daughter named Quinn? There was no love lost between Sawyer and Gabriel according to both their files. Bait in a trap, perhaps? Or just petty revenge? The former was dangerous but could be useful if the trap worked. The latter was just plane dangerous, especially with Gabriel's whereabouts currently unknown.<br/><br/>"Hmm."<br/><br/>She helped herself to a piece of fruit and flipped a coin to the stall-keeper when he protested. The succulent bitter-sweet juice ran down her throat as she bit into the soft flesh, and followed Sawyer at a discreet distance, blending expertly with her surroundings, unnoticed by anyone.