"I hope so, too, Ossanlin," Myitt sighs, watching the work on the bridge with a weary expression. "We had a few really good people, it pains me to think we've lost them, too." She forces a bright, albeit slightly sour, smile. "So, perhaps we haven't. Yeah, that's what I'm going to stick with, for now."
Niko watches Enorryma stalk off, and he leans in to Illim, eyes wide. "What the hell was that all about?" he hisses, tapping at the holoscreen and trying to appear nonchalant in spite of his fear. "We can't afford to be making enemies of these people...but she needs to respect our ****ing paranoia. Right?" He sighs shortly. "We can give these coordinates to Ossanlin, Myitt trusts him well enough, but I'm not sure I trust anyone else with the information."
Lanath regards Keshin and Joanne impassively, though Aya's lip curls briefly in revulsion. Then he is all smiles.
"I know you," he says, trying to be polite. "You're named Keshin and Joanne, also known as 'Static Shock' for whatever bizarre reason. A turelek of rather high esteem, occasional thorn in the rebellion's side, occasional boon when the money is good on our side. If...your reputation precedes you without error. I am Lanath One-Four-Eight of the Sulp Niar pool." He tilts his head, looking the woman up and down. "An interesting outfit. I hope you do not think it rude of me to ask: Do you fancy yourself a super-villain from a human comic book story?"
Internally, Lanath snickers dryly to himself--and to Aya.