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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DrZombie" data-source="post: 5704770" data-attributes="member: 15640">“Yeah, better to split up” agrees Kincaid. “they wouldn’t follow me through the arbites precinct.”She laughs. “Well, not for long at least. So, ratboy, where’s one of your hideyholes.”Looking a bit offended at the blue-haired arbitrator, Rat thinks for a bit, then answers “Riley’s. Not too far down dat id gets dangerous, not to far up either.” He gives you all a more detailed adress, describing a night-club/bar/hotel ‘bout thirty levels down, right next to the spaceport. “Riley owes me some. Tell him I sent you, he’ll set a room apart.”“I’ll keep an eye out for what our lab-boys find. You lot see what you can find out ‘bout the box. You can reach me at the fortress.” Kincaid passes the package under table to McClane, clearly not trusting Rat.You each leave the restaurant and make your way to Riley’s.The spaceport looks like a pock-mark in the surface of the hive. Rileys lays at the rim, thirty levels down from the surface, and about twenty above the spaceport floor. It’s a rundown former habblock, the basement levels being taken over by a nightclub, the level above that is a bar/restaurant, and above that are a fair number of rooms and appartements, rentable by the hour, day or week, wit or without company of negotiable virtue.The bouncers look you over as you walk in, but do not ask you to hand in your weapons. The pounding of the deep bass tones from the basement occasionally gets overwhelmed by the roar of a departing freighter that for a moment looks like it’s gonna crash through the roof of the building. By the looks of the debris in the street it wouldn’t be the first time.You make your way through the beginnings of another night out, shouldering and elbowing the wannabe gangers and joygirls aside on your way to the counter.A short discussion with the bartender later finds you in a rundown appartment.OOC : first to post is the first to arrive.</blockquote>

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