ataraxion | Voice;

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Voice;

[There's a long pause before anything is said, but then: a quiet, male voice, hoarse from disuse.]

Angie. Delia. If you're here...

Just. Hold on. I'll find you.

[Tillman is well aware that his voice will probably be recognized and that his location can probably be discovered by hacking his device, but the message is important to him, so he posts it anyway.]

Ooc: Action tags welcome! Tillman is currently prowling around the cargo bay.

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[Meta's pretty much prowling around everywhere, looking for anything that might help him get an AI, get his enhancements working, or at the very least weapons.]

[This other man in the cargo bay ... has Meta's interest if only because he's an unknown.]

[Unknowns were always possibilities.]

[He rumbles lowly as he steps out from behind a crate.]

[He doesn't sound good. Her first concern is that this man is sick and hasn't been to the med bay yet.]

I'm sorry. I don't think there's anyone on the ship by those names. Do you have any last names to go with them so I can check?

[Tillman is leaning against a wall, staring at his device idly as he waits for replies. When Meta steps into his line of vision, he looks up, but doesn't move otherwise. His posture is loose and relaxed. There's a knife at his hip, a big one, but he doesn't seem interested in starting trouble.]

[There's another long pause.] If they're here, they would hear this, right?

Unless they're not using their communicators, yes.

[Meta, on the other hand, is all about starting trouble. It distracts him from the silence in his head.]

[He approaches Tillman, slow, assessing the other man from head to toe, notcing that knife but in no ways deterred by it.]

[He himself towers well over 6', covered in a black base suit and white and brown armored plating. His face is obscured by a reflective gold helmet, somewhat like the kind you'd find on atsronauts. The armor looks like it's taken quite a bit of damage, but it doesn't seem to have deterred him much.]

[He's also growling.]

And is there a reason not to use them? [His tone implies that he suspects something sinister.]

I can't think of any reason, personally.

[She frowns.]

You're a new arrival. Are you all right? Are you hurt in some way?

[Tillman knows that look, even obscured as it is by the helmet. He had stopped receiving it in prison after he's dashed enough skulls against the pavement, but this place is new. He doesn't have a reputation here. He really hopes he won't have to earn it anew.

He still doesn't move away from the wall, but his eyes are sharp and intent on analyzing the armored man in front of him.]

Evening.

[In reality, he has no idea what time it is, but perhaps the pleasantry could stave off some violence.]

[He releases a huff of breath that might have been a dry laugh.]

I'm fine. Thank you for the information.

[With that, he closes the connection. He's still paranoid.]

Individuals by the names of Angie and Delia are not presently located aboard the Tranquility.

[Tillman considers for a moment. The man certainly seems confident about that.]

How do you know that?

I personally recorded information of all new arrivals emerging from the stasis chamber and cross referenced it the individuals previously acquired.

If you desire, I am able to forward my findings to your communicator.

[Another pause. Whoever he was, he hadn't recorded Tillman's information. Which meant that Angie or Delia might have slipped by as well...]

I would appreciate that.

[He isn't going to blindly trust the information given, but recon is recon.]

As I understand it- [ there is a faint ticking of keys as he prepares the file for transfer. ] You are the passenger that exited without providing your name.

Your identification number is 002>>030, is it not?

[Tillman's reaction is knee-jerk. He disconnects the call and then stands there staring at his communicator as if that will give him the answers. How had he known if he hadn't spoken to or seen Tillman.

After agonizing for a just under a minute, he reconnects.]

Yes.

[In his experience, people don't give information without first receiving some.]

[ if he should be ruffled on the opposite end- perturbed perhaps, he isn't. instead, spock merely waits in silence until the feed is reopened, and replies with neither irritation or surprise. instead, continuing on as patiently as he'd begun. ]

Affirmative. The file is being sent to you now.

[ his screen will flicker to confirm this a beat later. however- ]

May I make a request?

[Kable is wary his device, wary of the file, wary of Spock himself, but information and requests are preferable to demands or seizure.]

Go on, then.

[Meta continues his advance, posturing his great size to his advantage. There doesn't look to be anything this guy has that Meta would want, no significant armor or weapons. No hint of AI.]

[Dean can be silent on approach when he needs to be, years of practice around the hypersensitive hearing of some of the monsters he's ganked in the past serving him well. In the end, finding the man he's been sent after wasn't difficult at all. He'd been expecting something more complicated, but with certain people around to act as a trace on communicators, this guy is like a flare in the goddamn night sky right now.

He hangs back for a minute or two, sizes the guy up and figures out where all the possible exits are, and only when he's satisfied he's got the easiest ones covered does he step out of the shadows, the hunting knife he usually carries in his possession tucked away and out of sight for now in his jumpsuit.]

Never trust technology to do what you probably should've done yourself, man. Didn't do you any favors.

[Tillman doesn't react to the posturing at all. His expression is neutral, bordering on friendly. He doesn't want to fight. He will if he has to, but in his experience, if he looked uninteresting enough people tended to not stress the issue.

He is a bit curious as to what this armored guy is all about. He had assumed at first that this was the retribution for holding a knife to someone, but all the growling made it rather... hard to tell. Still. No need to tip his hand.]

[Tillman looks up from his device without any display of surprise. He isn't surprised, really. He knew the risks before he flicked the communicator on and he was prepared to deal with them. He had his exits mapped, potential cover scouted, but he is hoping it won't come to that.

Dean isn't exactly what he expected in a-- what would be the word? Bounty hunter? Guard? Tillman had been expecting someone more along the lines of the Meta, but the man had seemed content to just growl at him and mosey on along. Dean is a little easier to take: no visible armor, no posturing, and it seems like there's a possibility of communication.]

Priorities. [He shrugs a bit as he stops leaning against the wall. His new stance is balanced but not aggressive. He's still assessing.]

I'm guessing from your familiar tone that you were sent to look for me. [He displays both palms briefly to show their emptiness.]

[Nope, not retribution, just one exceedingly incoherent and mentally unsound elite rogue agent looking to make his mark and keep on top.]

[He's going to see how close he can get. This guy doesn't phase him in the least, so he's not going to be shy about just getting in his face, with that ever-present soft growling.]

[Tillman doesn't react until the Meta is just a few feet away, and even then he only straightens to his full height and cocks an eyebrow questioningly.]

If this is your strip of wall, I can find another place to lean. [He announces with a hint of a smile.]

Hey. Are you okay? Do you need help?

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