The Last Memento --- Garret Warrens July 22nd, 2166 20:30 Standard Time --- Warrens was, arguably, one of the most recognizable figures in Brown's Folly. Most knew him as a burned out veteran or the local mechanic, depending on who you asked, when, and why. He didn't believe why such a credit had been given to him as the natural know-how with machines, but it kept the SC coming in, so he found himself out of position to complain too much. His shop, known unofficially as the Quarry, took up for its namesake in all facets. It was, in essence, a dugout with a roof and a ramp crammed with tools of the trade. It'd been a long day, too long. Hours spent hunched over, around, and beneath an old-Earth automobile that he only serviced because of the man who owned it. He hated working with old-Earth tech, more than he hated the tedious labor that had been general maintenance on MagLevs. Not that it mattered. The job was done, and now he waited for Geth, patiently sipping at a glass of 'sludge' - a drink of recycled water infused with a few flavorings and spices to avoid the generally unfavorable taste. Alcohol was too expensive for most to afford more than a shot a week of without going artificial, and that was a slick road to roll down. Dim in the background a man played at the piano, a copy of what it might have looked like nearly three hundred years previous made to look more worn then it actually had a right to be. The barkeep stood towards the back of the bar, polishing a glass. It was quiet, unusually so for a Saturday evening. Uneasy, Garrett turned his head to glance over the near-empty bar, attempting to point a cause to it. Listening to the creaking of the ceiling fan and the din of an actual electrically-powered air unit, Garrett found himself lost in the moment. His thoughts did not dwell on any subject; it merely worked in a state he could not alter. The lights and signs, all written in an old-Earth Chinese and English mix, flashed off and on towards the balcony seats of the saloon. Faint chattering could be heard upstairs as well over this, but he could not make out the words. Lost in his trance, he had failed to hear the dual doors swing open and shut. "Shipments came in." The sudden voice caused him to jump and turn to the source, a young girl. Zona Harris, an underling to one of the growing arms dealers that had taken advantage of the Folly's central location. Most knew her by extension of Blackheart, though few enough spoke to his gutter rat. Taking another swig of the sludge, Garrett turned to girl and grunted. "Oh? And what do we have this time?" He questioned, beckoning for another round, coming to the conclusion that shipments usually meant focus on the train yard. "Nothing too conspicuous, I hope." "Bitter of you to word it like that." Was the girl's only response, agitating as usual. "Care to elaborate on my question? Or did you come to be an annoying shit?" Garrett retorted in his thick drawl of a voice, taking a swig of the refilled glass. "The usual works. Your typical underground job. Nils said I'd be able to head off with him on the next sale." Zona allowed herself a brief smirk. "A few rumors and bounties as well. Got a big hit marked for some ex-mercenary, and a few for some mass breakout with a payout of eight-hundred SC each." Garrett nodded in reply and downed the rest of the sludge in two long gulps, grimacing at the aftertaste. It wasn't an ideal replacement to anything, but it was better then the water. No doubt the local hunters would be out and about at the news of fresh work, but that was beyond his time. Though what she'd said had confirmed the scatterings that had reached Folly. "Care for a drink?" He asked, breaking the silence. Zona shrugged, flipping out a single credit bill and handing it to him. Without too much reluctance, he took it and called over the bartender; he'd need to stop wasting his credit after this one. With a clatter, the tin - glass was generally too expensive - cups slammed down to the table and he slid one over to the girl. Without a word, Garrett offered his cup to her in a toast of sorts. Nodding in return, she knocked the two together with a resounding clink of metal on metal. This brief moment of mutual respect over, the two settled to drinking in silence.