"Any reminder that you're still alive,<em>choombata</em>. You get it." the Fireman's face curved into a grin as he pointed to Roan and nodded vigorously. This insight seemed important to him, but then those that came back from the LatAm wars were broken in ways that manifested themselves differently, and the Fireman managed to hide the trauma better than most. His gaze next fell on Sin, eyes holding her for a moment appraisingly before shifting. He had nothing to say, and there was nothing else that needed to be said. He knew what she did, and Arr-Que had vouched for him. His gaze then came to rest on Rick, the humour having evaporated, no, having frozen on his face as he spoke. He had the mien of a drill-sergeant addressing a new recruit:<br/><br/>"The Client gets what the client paid for, and in this case, the client is trading on fumes. The client, in this case, needs someone<em>extracted</em>, and trying to put this<em>hiburan</em>together on fumes doesn't get me<em>apogee</em>,<em>keng</em>? And I know shit-all about you<em>ototo</em>'cept what the street says, and what the street says about you is down to your last job, and I know<em>shit</em>about your last job. But I do know you shoulda brought better<em>harness</em>instead of paper. You're here because you're ... what's the Suit euphemism?"<br/><br/>He paused for a moment, head at a slight tilt, as if looking back over distant magnetic-tape archives stored somewhere deep down. And then in the parody of the deep-voiced All-American voice-talent common to infomercials the world over. "Minimal practical outlay for maximal potential gain." The idea seemed to cause him to laugh; a hollow sound and a smile that didn't even make it to his lips let alone to his eyes. As if returning to the moment for a reverie, he turned his attention back to RQ.<br/><br/>With the snap of the fingers on his cybernetic hand, one of the devices on the table sprang to life, bathing the on-lookers with the verdigris glow of holo-projector, the lines of which seemed sharper in the cold air. It showed what appeared to be a low security housing exclave. Not the Executive Zone, but rather than fringes of it as it grew out of New Westbrook like some kind of glass-and-steel cancer. It wasn't within the main corporate security cordon, but what was obvious from the display was that it had light security that patrolled the perimeter. This close to the Executive Zone, though, would mean that it didn't need much on-site security; corporate barracks were a very short hop away by AV.<br/><br/>"The target is a<em>cylon</em>, and is enjoying a ... 'safe and restful festive period with his family.' Word is that the only family he has comes out of an air-hypo, braindance, or a bottle. You talk your way passed the guard, disable the security system, and then take our friend for a little walk."<br/><br/>As he finished speaking, the final image to hang in the air was a 2D corporate-style identity precis, rotating lazily. The picture was of someone (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4a/bd/51/4abd516f23e054f0a85e320b9131cc61.jpg) who wore a suit like it gave him a contact rash. He's was clearly a line-animal; a grunt who was more used to the sharp end of business than the C-suite.<br/><br/>"Questions?" again, the barked interrogative.<br/><br/>--<br/><strong>Streetslang</strong><br/>Choombata: Friend / family member (NeoAfrican slang)<br/>Extraction: Corporate euphemism for kidnapping<br/>Hiburan: Literally, entertainment (Malay). Figuratively, half-arsed, low-budget, improvised job<br/>Ototo: Literally, Little Brother (Japanese). Figuratively, apprentice / junior<br/>Harness: Uniform / outfit / gear<br/>Apogee: Literally, highest point. Figuratively, top-tier talent.<br/>Keng: From German kennen, meaning to know / understand<br/>Cylon: Slang for corporate security officer