During an idle moment in the ride she responded, on her wrist-comp, to the fixer offering the research base job: if he could put her in contact with a likely group of fellow professionals, she'd assist in investigation of the research base. For all her training as a killer-for-hire she was happy to take someone else's credits for what looked to be a salvage operation without much probability of gunplay. Though, she noted wryly to herself, actually getting<i>paid</i>without any gunplay was always a gamble, in this line of work.<br/><br/>She smiled uneasily at Cat's explanation. She didn't have much knowledge of the Bulor beyond common galactic knowledge -- yet Cat hadn't given her any reason not to trust him, and he seemed confident enough in this Sirus' relative harmlessness. And by the time they pulled up at the diner the gnawing in her stomach provided still another reason to just go along. She hopped out of the Runner, crossed over to the driver's side, and slid her arm into Cat's as she fell into step beside him; but for the guns slung low on her hips, the picture of a giddy young woman on a first date.<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"Can't wait. I'm <i>starving</i>."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>