The girl set her sack down roughly on the counter, a small pile of empty nutri-bev cans collapsing and tumbling to the floor in a tinny clatter as she did so. His expression seemed very casual, but his eyes were alive with alertness and curiosity; as her hand dipped into the bag, a shot of tension rose from his lower back. She could be going for a weapon. He knew his... well, station, for lack of a better word... in some of lesser-known dimensions of society made him less likely to fall to planned assassinations or the like, but Xen had not come this far by being delusional. A laser to the throat or a volt to the chest would kill him as quick as any wretch, regardless of his standing with not-so-legal company. Still, Gil would hardly let that happen. The android's mostly-hidden presence was comforting, but the young man had never been one to rest comfortably with unfamiliar company- or familiar, for that matter.<br/><br/>Regardless, it was no weapon that the girl exposed; rather, a core implant. In a second, Xen could identify it as the C34-9v, a model recently developed by one of the leaders of the robotic industry and even<span style="font-style: italic">more</span>recently been made available for the public. His sharp eyes flickered over it expertly, taking in the lack of scuff or scratching or any wear at all. He caught the lobbed core easily without moving any part of his body besides his hand, bringing it closer to his face and studying it through the glasses. Unused, indeed. None of the ports had any sign of being activated. Casually, he brought his other hand to his face and pressed a small button on the upper corner of his frames, eyes staring past the images of bar codes and numbers that appeared on the plasma glass of the right lens. After a beat, a familiar name blinked into his right eye: Sorelli's Implants. It didn't surprise him that the items were stolen, but still; the lass had remarkable luck, to wander to him rather than another tech shop.<br/><br/>A loud snapping sound and a resulting clamor of a few items hitting the floor brought him out of his musing and his eyes jerked up from the device, in time to see the thief replace some of his own merchandise; thankfully he hardly cared about the display products. He could not hold back a snort of derisive laughter as the girl awkwardly recovered, but just as his eyes had turned back to the implant, her excited chatter brought him away once more. Upon hearing an adult male's voice shape her words, Xen laughed again, with the derision replaced by actual amusement. In the back of his mind, he though it was strange that she had not only recognized the device but known how to work it... of course, if her archaic clothes were anything to go by, then she would probably be familiar with outdated tech.<br/><br/>The pink-haired figure turned back, still wearing the vocal-scrambler, as though suddenly remembering she came here for a reason beyond knocking all of his junk to the floor. Still, no reason to piss her off before he'd seen what else that knapsack had to offer.<span style="color: #FFBF40"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Absolutely,"</span></span>he replied in an equally business-like tone,<span style="color: #FFBF40"><span style="font-weight: bold">"I'll give you 4000 credits for it."</span></span>He set the core down on the counter, loosely crossing his arms. Four grand wasn't a bad start, considering that the girl would need to unload the hot merchandise quickly, as well as the loss he would presumably take as the second-hand retailer of a stolen product. He wouldn't, obviously, but she could hardly know that. She didn't even appear to know to whom she spoke; given her style of dress, that wasn't surprising.<br/><br/><br/><br/>-------<br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="color: #BF40FF"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Mar."</span></span><br/><br/>The word was short, curt. One finger touched the outer flesh of the ear, no mechanical bits visible but clearly present.<br/><br/>"There has been a report of criminal activity in Sector 9C of the Market District," chirruped the pleasant female voice on the other end of the wavelength, "It indicates stolen product worth over 50,000 credits, but no clear implications of suspects or observations of suspicious persons in the area."<br/><br/>A quick sigh heaved the other speaker.<span style="color: #BF40FF"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Confirmed."</span></span><br/><br/>"There has also been a report of local shopfronts being vandalized."<br/><br/>The original speaker huffed. That was far below the pay-grade mark, a pittance that didn't deserve attention.<span style="color: #BF40FF"><span style="font-weight: bold">"... and? What am I supposed to do about it, exactly?"</span></span><br/><br/>The cheerful voice paused, and the original speaker knew that the android was consulting her internal records for instructions; the fact that it was taking so long probably meant that there<span style="font-style: italic">were</span>no orders beyond informing and that - "My records indicate that you are tasked with the apprehension of individuals responsible for deviant behavior of this nature."<br/><br/>Now it was the other one's turn to pause in surprise. It didn't last as long.<span style="color: #BF40FF"><span style="font-weight: bold">"And <span style="font-style: italic">who</span> tasked me with this?"</span></span><br/><br/>"My records indicate that you accepted the profile upon your visit to the Enforcement Headquarters four hours, twenty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds ago."<br/><br/>Another sigh. It was not the answer that had been expected, but it did clarify the situation.<span style="color: #BF40FF"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Confirmed,"</span></span>came the resigned response, before the line of communication went silent.<br/><br/>Celi Mar leaned back in her chair, long arms reaching up to lace her fingers behind her head. They cupped around her loosely-plaited hair, the free strands of dark blonde fluttering around her ears and eyes... She would have to talk to that little punk about getting her attention like this. She didn't want to alienate him (annoying as he was, the kid had his uses), but for as much as he knew how much trouble their contact could get her in, he was certainly very loose with his methods. Records were outrageously difficult to delete from the HQ at the best of times, and though leaving them on one of the older android models helped, it was still reckless. Still, he didn't do it often. As long as she kept her appointments to get her implants checked and medications refilled, he didn't bother her unless it was something that she needed to know. Even a little more to his credit, he never left the actual information in the androids, and to anyone casually briefing the records, Celi seemed to merely have a strange sleep schedule.<br/><br/>Between locating the stolen goods and visiting her black market dealer, the bounty hunter had a pretty full day ahead of her.<br/><br/>She stood smoothly, flashes of a tight black suit visible beneath the short, cinched overcoat of dark blue. The tall woman shoved her hands almost sullenly into her pockets, ignoring the only half-consumed can of nutrients that still sat on the table as she strode toward the Market District. Her black boots clicked on the metallic ground, mismatched eyes fixed pointedly toward her destination. At least she wasn't far.