Ianthe felt a touch of pride creeping into her cheeks, but quickly governed her expression back towards impassivity. She sketched a tiny, gracious bow as she pocketed the pad.<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"My thanks,"</span>she said.<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"I regret not being able to 'solve' your Charla problem on a permanent basis, but I thought it was more important to keep you informed, and prevent further damage to your organization."</span>Her inner monologue was more rueful:<i>Seventy-five hundred credits, and I made more of it on my back than with my skills.</i><br/><br/>Gamely, though, she continued.<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"If you like, I could take the information about Charla to Captain Klank personally. While I'm sure your people are persuasive, it might look, to him, like ass-covering. He might be more receptive if it came from a third party."</span>But part of her she was already contemplating how to spend those credits: she'd had her eye on a few gene-mods and some gear that her account balance had stubbornly refused to let her afford, and she wondered briefly if, on a pesthole like Salzan, she'd be able to acquire a supply of decent coffee beans.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>