Braxton's brain was gunning at high speeds. The repairs to his ship he was told would take a week. The journey for space vigilante justice couldn't wait that long! Stress was building in the young hacker. His name was plastered on local bill boards in his quadron of the galaxy. He had to lay low for awhile. Having ties to a space group known as "ASAT (All Species Against Tyranny) they were falsely labeled in propaganda, and news stories as terrorists when they were nothing more than a group of kids looking to set things right in the cosmos. Rustic boots clap against ground as the tall boy looks from underneath his hood at the atmosphere of the club. It was as luxurious as his friends promised. 'Just lay low for awhile, we'll fight the good without you!' they promised, but he doubted the slackers would do anything without his leadership. A neon blue ear piece illuminates his left ear. Tan olive skin being lit up as he speaks into the mircophone. "Rix, you better not screw this shit up. It's bad enough my ship's totaled! I don't need you undoing all the work I've done.."<br/><br/>There's a squawk from the other end sparking static as he winces, and closes shut hazel hues. "Nothing to worry about boss man, all set here.. you know? Just do you, and kick it for a bit. Ain't nothin' go awry between us, and the federation for awhile - we are just gonna scope out next targets, and plans of actions. It's gonna be relatively chill." a sigh of relief is issued from Braxton, and he presses his middle, and index finger to the ear piece about to turn it off. "Call my line if you need any help out of a jam.. Something tells me you're not going to just going to keep it chill.." Sure enough on the other end of the call he hears the cock of a futuristic gun, and the sound of it's batteries being charged as if it were about to fire. "They might be tracing this - I gotta go." The distant echo of 'Everything's going to be fine Bossman!' right before gun fire is echoed into the mic is cut off by the device powering down.<br/><br/>"Shit's like a video game.." he narrates as wide eyes stare around the lounge of the club. The popping colors flooded by the array of lights, and music is almost to much for your senses. It overwhelms, and catches the suitor off guard. How was he ever supposed to relax in an area that seemed hyper-active like this? He adjusts the satchel on his lap, and takes a seat at one of the few tables. The place was loud which was a good reason why it was the perfect place to lay low at. No one ever expects you to hide in a public setting like this one. He unzips, and sets out his sticker adorned black laptop. It's from another century, but seems to run just fine as he opens the screen, and is met with instant green, and blue illumination.<br/><br/>"Now.. to just kill some time.." he begins to poke, and prod at keyboard starting to work his way into a nearby network in the quest for juicy secrets about the neighboring shop owners. Maybe he could find some blackmail to hold over their heads for a few spare credits. He wasn't broke, but only a fool would say no to easy money.