The cybernetic gleam behind the man's goggles fades away, and Tzahala thinks she can see the hint of a smile twisting the cloth of the man's face-mask.<br/><br/>"Standard issue. Maybe you do a good job here and we can get you a set of your own. Pays better than merc work, that's f'sure." The man hands Tzahala a slip of paper for her dashboard, and a lapel-clip nametag bearing the Job Id as a means of identifying herself.  "The C.O. for tonight will give you an assignment based on your Designation, so you don't have to worry about puttin' your name out with a bunch of overly-nosy mercs. Take the road straight back, third left to staff parking. Just follow the signs towards Maintenance Path MK-001."<br/><br/>With a brief salute of two fingers against the rim of his helmet, the man steps to the side and motions for Tzahala to pass. Just in time for another set of lights to appear in the distance behind her, too.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Not even two minutes down the road, the logic of Disney-Universal's designers and directors begins to make itself abundantly clear to Tzahala. Every road she passes, plus the one she's driving on, is as straight as a laser... and every intersection is spaced with the efficiency of a microchip. "The Happiest Place on Earth," alright... and all that "happiness" has been plotted out and orchestrated, down to the last blade of grass.<br/><br/>It's kind of spooky behind the curtain.<br/><br/>Spooky or not, though, the roads are set up in such a way that Tzahala has absolutely zero troubles finding her way through the parks' back roads, and it's only a matter of minutes before she finds herself parking in the staff lots for the Magic Kingdom attractions. Once again, all the paths are clearly marked for her, allowing her to work her way through the service hallways and behind-the-scenes sidewalks until she's standing in the shadow of the park's signature attraction: Cinderella's Castle.<br/><br/>And waiting for her is a woman who can only be the night's commanding officer. She doesn't wear any mark of rank or office, but the way she holds herself and the way her eyes immediately on the name-tag Tzahala bears make for a pretty good indicator of her status.<br/><br/>"Lookit this, we got some fresh blood." The woman smirks and pulls a crumpled looking pack of cigarettes from her back pocket as Hazan approaches, sticking it between her lips and lighting it with a flick of her fingers. "Tell you a funny story... Bronze an' Silver doesn't show up on any of White Sand's normal 'hired help' rosters. Or on K.E.'s down south, either. Which tells me you're either a greenie- unlikely, with your gear- or you found yourself with an invite to tonight's party that got lost in the mail."<br/><br/>The woman's lips curl up into a smile as she looks over Tzahala's shoulder to see if anyone else is coming before she continues.<br/><br/>"Or perhaps with a friendly mailman... not that I'm gonna complain, mind."<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">C.O.</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://safebooru.org//images/314/92d5923b0406a71013eab435dc45741ac8890f77.jpg?313943)</div></div>