2072, July 18th 7:50PM<br/><br/>Sanjuro tried his best to sing along to the J-Pop he was listening to on his bike, muffled by the rumble of his bike’s engine and the ruffle of his shirt. Rolling the bike into the parking lot, he killed the music feed from his commlink and hopped off. He took stock.<br/><br/><i>Pistol, check. Clips, check. Camo armour underneath to make sure that when I run, I can run. Very check. Thirst … I’m getting there!</i><br/><br/>Setting his commlink from private mode to public, the Brazilian made his way past the doors, trying to pass the crowd as he scanned the teeming crowd for Martha. Trying to get a fixer on such short notice had been an utter pain for him and he longed to make it up to her with a good track record. Maybe some dead bodies. Flowers. Be romantic. Worming his way to the bar counter, Sanjuro looked over to the trid screen as he waited for a tender to serve him. His lingua-soft continued to stall and stutter on the overworked commlink as he stumbled his order to the serving girl.<br/><br/>“If you’re not on the menu, can I at least have a beer?”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>