Spook found herself unable to relax once the vehicle started moving. It wasn't despite the luxury of the satin seats, spacious leg room or the calming atmosphere complete with a nice smell to it. It was<i>because</i>of those things, the forced aura of calm and opulence. Every minute detail had been seen to, blotting out the world which existed just beyond the tinted windows, and it set her on edge. Maybe it was hypocritical of the woman who'd traded in her arms for a cybernetic pair, but there was a difference between the comfort offered by a plush seat compared to leaning back in the familiar corner of a burned out building. Mr. Suit came across exactly like the vehicle, a practiced facsimile of ease which was something else instead. 'Lower your guard,' his posture said, feeding directly into her Dreg inherited need to refute authority.<br/><br/>Still she might have helped herself to the bottle of whatever, if only she could trust her left arm not to drop it. Tenzou, hm? Maybe that was why WatchTower had been giving him those dirty looks, professional pride and all that. It gave her some ideas on what she might have been bailed for, corps didn't want to do their fighting out in the open... Anything she was sent to do against APTS interests could be easily denied as the act of a random criminal or terrorist. Then again he'd been clear that she was an employee, and handing over the credits for release probably left a paper trail. If the idea was plausible deniability there were better, or at least cheaper ways to go about it. What the hell did she really know about how the corps worked, anyway? You couldn't believe everything you heard, the fact that she was still breathing after being caught by a PMC was proof of that.<br/><br/>Some of the cybernetic chop shops she'd been to liked to pass themselves off as 'Limb Clinics' or other professional names of that kind. Spook expected going to the real deal was going to be a much different experience. It'd be white and pristine, disinfected like everything else up in the city. She wondered if her mods would get her laughed out of the place, what you got in the Dreg was literally the castoffs and garbage thrown out of Pangea.<br/><br/>"I have an idea of what power is," she answered with a little smirk, turning her attention to the man even though his view was on the passing cityscape. It had to be a rhetorical question, he wanted to tell her what power was. Of course he did. But the only thing better than telling someone a fact was to correct them about it, so she might as well do what was expected. "I know some people who'd say it's conviction, effort... mindfulness, concentration and wisdom. Which is fine, if you like high concept things. In my opinion power is having a loaded gun pointed at an unarmed man, or a hidden blade catching someone by surprise in a brawl. I figure WatchTower probably agree with that version, since those were the things they confiscated from me."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>