Arrbi Betna
Marauder
Arrbi Betna walked through the powered doors of Mandal Hypernautics' office in Sundari, ignoring the ground floor receptionist. He wore his armor and carried his revolver, but otherwise only carried a worn notebook with him. He stepped into the lift and punched the number for the top floor. After waiting a minute or two, he stepped out of the lift and approached the secretary for the main office.
"Is the owner in?" was all Betna asked as he drew even with the desk.
"Uh, yes, but he's prepping for a meeting. You'll have to wait," the woman said, a bit confused.
"No need, I'll let myself in," he stated, his tone brooking no argument.
Before the woman could get up to stop him, much less move her chair away from the desk, he was already opening the door to the office. He stepped in and spotted who he was wanting to see sitting at the head of a long table. The other man was reading through a sheaf of reports, invoices, and notices, obviously prepping for the meeting at hand. Arrbi tossed the notebook on the table and watched the thing slide forward, stopping a few inches from the considerable stack of paper. Inside the notebook contained all of Betna's notes, formulas, and prototype designs for a working prototype of active camouflage.
"I want to work out a deal," Betna stated without preamble or introduction as he placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. He knew @[member="Captain Larraq"] would bite, the question was how hard.
"Is the owner in?" was all Betna asked as he drew even with the desk.
"Uh, yes, but he's prepping for a meeting. You'll have to wait," the woman said, a bit confused.
"No need, I'll let myself in," he stated, his tone brooking no argument.
Before the woman could get up to stop him, much less move her chair away from the desk, he was already opening the door to the office. He stepped in and spotted who he was wanting to see sitting at the head of a long table. The other man was reading through a sheaf of reports, invoices, and notices, obviously prepping for the meeting at hand. Arrbi tossed the notebook on the table and watched the thing slide forward, stopping a few inches from the considerable stack of paper. Inside the notebook contained all of Betna's notes, formulas, and prototype designs for a working prototype of active camouflage.
"I want to work out a deal," Betna stated without preamble or introduction as he placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. He knew @[member="Captain Larraq"] would bite, the question was how hard.