Running the Gauntlet - Part 8

Clare reaches up to adjust her mask so that it's sitting better. A brief wrinkling of her nose when some of the group offends her olfactory senses and she's hesitantly accepting the clipboard back. And then a major flinch at the tantrum that takes ahold of the large woman among them. "Who /are/ you people?" Sprite gets some major attention again. Doesn't seem like animals of that sort are the norm at all. "I'm going back to my station. If you're intellgient and rational people...you're going to let me do that. I don't know what you want to...drop off, but it's not going to happen." She starts to back away the way she was brought. Calm, rational steps. "This is a closed system. If you're not from either Nation or Revolutionary Corp...If you're some sort of splinter group..." She shakes her head. Suit goes ~Squ-squ~ "This isn't a mail depot. There's a way down from my station to the floor. There's an access tunnel you can take out from there."

Liya considers, for a moment. "What does your station do?" she asks, as she muddles through what Clare has said. She walks along with Clare, not letting her go alone, though at the least, she isn't trying to stop Clare. Yet. "And what happens if we don't let you go back to your clipboard and numbers?"

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