"It's just business, and quite frankly, working with your employer is hurting our bottom line. Be sure to tell her that." Gabby said to Larl. To Wilhelm she added, "Though if you're willing to leave business at the door, I hear Khibby's Mess makes a mean Phosphor Bomb." She gave a flirtatious smile before turning back to the House Fantz tanks.
As the acolytes had no knowledge of the whereabouts of any place suitable to set up for the moment, they turned to asking Imperial Citizens. It took two hours of asking passersby to learn that the western habblocks had plenty of empty rooms for rent, and were renting out habs short-term to travelers. They went there posthaste, arriving half an hour later as evening was setting in.
The Acolytes met with the supervisor of one of the habblocks, who offered them a room for 400 scrip a month. The Acolytes were unsure at first, but the supervisor explained the price was well worth it; as some of the rooms in the habblock were empty, they had to hire some stubjacks, professional thugs, to keep the place clear of vagrants, as well as protect the rooms from break-ins. He assured them that the stubjacks could be trusted, explaining that to steal from their client would destroy their career. The Acolytes agreed to the price and spent the night in their new accommodations.
The next morning they piled their belongings into their Morbanth half track and headed towards the town of Rocha. Their Scaevolan Oath practically sped them through the Gendarme checkpoints along the city border. They drove along several miles of paved road and empty, green fields of grass before turning onto a dirt path, winding through an expansive temperate forest. The deeper they traveled, the foggier the weather became. A few hours of driving later, and they arrived at
Rocha, a damp, clustered town, and even though it was almost midday, the fog was growing to be almost claustrophobic.
The Acolytes went to the local Gendarme outpost to inquire about the disappearance of Larrah Vilaro. They asked the man at the front desk to see whoever was in charge. Moments later, a man in olive fatigues stepped out, wearing a Sergeant's chevrons. "What can I do you folks for?"