"You owe me, girl," Sarah Beth said.  "And when I call it in, I don't hear one word from you.  Got it?"  She didn't wait for an answer and strode off, long legs easily outdistancing the others so she arrived at the stall first.<br/><br/>There were a variety of items besides the strapping available.  An old wooden clock, cover cracked from dry storage and the brass face gone dull with age.  A Chinese parasol with slightly limp spines.  A bowl turned out of an expended artillery round case.  Two Alliance issue metal foil blankets still in the packaging, one only slightly stained with something brown on the paper cover.  Sarah Beth leaned the shotgun against her elbow, muzzle pointing away from her head, and picked up the clock.<br/><br/>"Huh," she said.  "Where'd you get this?  Looks old."