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Station of Despair. Chapter 2 (Daily Life) (Looking for replacements, Read OP)

"Okay, it's gonna be fun seeing the fallout from this one from the safety of my cameras. Toodles."

And with that bombshell, the borg wheeled off.
"The robot seemed to be talking to someone during the trial though, I assume that would be the organizer. Wasn't Dan at the trial?"
"Ever heard of stable mutagen? Quick dose of that and *anyone* would be me, even a frightened stowaway given the choice of wealth or death."

Dan sits down at the bar, kicks up her heels on a neighboring stool, and grins.

"I figured someone would find out sooner or later, secrecy doesn't change this game... much, but for it to be revealed by the robot. Tisk. Poor form!"
Marcy pulls her jumpsuit collar over her face and squints through the chemical-scented wafts being puffed at her.

"But if you're the mastermind, Dan, why would you so freely admit to it? You realize how easy it'd be to... y'know. Off you. Right?"
Dan scoffs, blowing smoke in Marcy's face.

"Please. By now, death and I have run out of games to play. Barely even get in a good round of slapsies before I pop out of the cloner or call the Roboticist 'daddy'. Without fail, time and time again."

A grin and a nod.

"By all means, 'off' me. I die just like everyone else. And stay dead just as long as the rest of you."

"Which reminds me, I'm sure you'll be seeing some familiar faces pretty darn soon. Kinda why I've revealed myself so early on, can't seem to keep a secret from the dead. Ain't that right, Phoebe? Cap'n Wossname?"
"I have no idea what to make of you or your talking-to-ghosts, but whatever you say Mr. Mastermind. We can just come back and bri-"

Marcy pauses and looks at her map.

"Ah, yeah, Security's open now. We should probably check it out before someone tries to loot everything in there, huh?"
"issat so yeah?"
Large reaches under the counter and pulls out the trusty old russian.
The grip is caked with dried blood and flecks of brain matter. A true space Passtime for the ages.
" Iffenthat's so then whanot pley'a 'll round w'me dan. Ain't never loss' more'nth'n twice"
He slides the revolver to Dan.
Dan swipes the gun and sticks it in her belt, then makes off toward Sec, but not before swiping one of the remaining glasses of fluid.

"Race ya there, Marcy!"
The fat sack of shit behind the bar leaps over the countertop, sending beer and glass fucking everywhere. Pulling a 12 Gauge from his bag, he gives chase.
Security seemed pretty different from how it looked in the pictures.  Particularly, the lack of pretty much anything outside of a table, a couple of chairs, the lack of a general brig, and some security uniforms and handcuffs.  There is also a computer with the options "Profiles" and "Cameras".  Attempts to check cameras show a screen filling notice simply showing the cyborg's head and the word "Nope".

Speaking of unpleasant surprises, the cyborg seems to be here as well.

"Oh, hello.  Didn't see ya there.  Renovated the place a little.  You know just how much I care about all of your safety, so I decided to remove any of those pesky tasers and batons.  Wouldn't want anyone to hurt themselves, would we?   Right?"

"Besides, that would make things a little too easy for my liking.  He he he..."

"Anywho, you can think of this as the information center I guess.  Considering we don't actually have one of those yet."
"If this is an information center, I'd love some information"
"GO FUCKASS YOURSELF!" yells Dan, doing a tactical flip as she sprints down the hall away from the Barman.
"All right, let's see..."  The robot produces a book titled "Book o Info" and reads through it.

"Did you know the original station idiot had a thing for red heads?  Pretty big weirdo if you ask me."

"That'll be a hundred credits."
Large fires the shotgun in Dan Kelly's general direction, without really looking. Why is he holding that with one hand?
"SHAAAAFFFGHHGODFOFODpppsdfasfSDF" he sputters.
Marcy follows suit and sprints down the hall at Dan's command. She doesn't actually care whether Dan wins or loses the race, but either way she arrives just in time to hear the cyborg mention that most of Security has been gutted. And of course, in time to hear him charging for information.

"Hey, wait! I-it was my idea to check Security so I should get a cut of the profits here, too!"

Marcy seems to be more concerned with the sudden implication that her coworkers have credits than the babyproofing of Security or the cyborg's presence.

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