Wasp, comfortable with her role and place in this mission so far, listened intently but didn’t care much to contribute to the following conversations about their purpose, the advancement of cyborg technologies, and<span style="font-style: italic">boats</span>… She could input some knowledge using her knowledge from university, but at the end of the day, did she really care enough to invest her personal life into a company she only used in order to get paid? Just how long did she care about staying in this business before she moved on with her life and became a scientist or researcher? That was a whole other kettle of fish.<br/><br/>She did bubble a laugh at Shark’s trust fall comment, however. The whole notion was pretty ironic; it still felt so weird to think that it would be imperative to missions to trust a team, the same group of people, as though they were solo artists in a music company that had suddenly gotten bunched up together to create some boyband of messed up genres. Nonetheless, the plan that Ghost delivered felt pretty solid. Disguise yourself into a Tuesday guard, guard the ship, eliminate stray infiltrators and support the crew with meds, alerts and a helping hand if necessary. Not too bad of a task; Wasp secretly hoped she didn’t have to do too much so she could think about her study notes whilst supervising their little escapade.<br/><br/>“I guess rumours happen for a reason; Japan did popularise holographic concerts back in the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if those cute holograms were Ghost-style infiltrators in disguise to take over the world,” she said sarcastically. As a teenager, she was pretty fond about those idols synthetically created with LED and a voice synthesiser. After all, humans were far too untrustworthy, why bother with placing false hope and affections towards a specific human so intangible to yourself? Wasp’s own parents were even in such close radius to her, in such a position to be worthy of trust, and yet they still managed to leave marks of betrayal in the guise of fish and lotus down her sleeve. It wasn’t worth questioning the human condition, though - perhaps this was why being an assassin felt so natural to her, along with the fact that crime became somewhat inherent to the family name.<br/><br/>Wasp was no different, but for some reason, she felt rather turbulent towards the subject.<br/><br/>“So, kids - who’s the best stalker out of us? Who’s going to use their brilliant Google Maps skills to take out the dockworkers before the day of mission?” Wasp raised her eyebrows, deliberately making a quirked face at them. She secretly hoped it didn’t have to be her, at least for the main action of killing them, for missions amongst locations filled with the general public always made her a little anxious. What if she stumbled into someone she knew; a professor, a student, most fearfully, her little brother? She had tried so diligently the past years to keep documents about her part time job away from his curious, prying eyes. He would probably find it incredibly ‘cool’ if he had known, but that boy could chatter about the specifics of action movies for days on end. She did not want such tales of herself gossiped around to break down the positive profile she was trying to build around her name. This was just her ‘part time machinery work’, not performed by ‘Veloce’, but by ‘Wasp’.