You'll Take the Deal (Not That You Have Much Choice)

"Gee, how could I pass on such a fine opportunity. For the good of Mos Espa and all."

Naraya claps happily, and to your dissappointment her foot draws back under the table. "That is wonderful news! Now, it's getting late, so I'll let you get back to your party. I'll contact you tomorrow with more details." She gets up and moves towards the exit, hips swaying suggestively as if to promise what's to come. Before she can leave, she turns her head one final time.

"I think it goes without saying, but I will be your point of contact on this task. If you attempt to go around me, or take credit for this yourself I will be... displeased." With that, she's through the door, guards in tow.

When they're gone, Tekka smiles so widely you almost forget there's a lesson she needs to learn here. "See, I told you I would be useful! Didn't I do good?"

You sigh wearily. The sounds of the party dying down are suddenly incredibly annoying, so you get up to leave. You eye her as you do.

"Every gift ever given has come with strings attached. This one led to a job, sure. But it's a job with plenty more strings on it. Strings being pulled by people we probably don't want to be a part of."

She looks concerned. "What's done is done. And it was my idea to throw a big party anyway. I don't know. I'm going to bed. You probably should to, if you're coming with tomorrow."

She nods sullenly, but perks up as what you said sinks in. This job feels wrong, but honestly farmers with rusty varmint blasters is probably the safest live-fire test you could ask for.

For now, you head back to the ship. You have gear to prepare, and orders for some hopefully sober crewman to start searching every nook and cranny of the Convor.