Intermission 1: The Darkness steps back

After entering the office among the earliest arrivals, Wolf scouts the room, picks the first unoccupied seating he sees and then perches there, lazily watching others through half-lidded eyes. For once in the last few weeks he is completely unbothered by the situation, the increased security and general paranoia feeling more familiar than the previous status quo. He had plenty of time to patch up as well, and even some chances for social interaction - mostly consisting of coffee dates with Connor, as socializing with his electrician colleagues is now a little awkward with the whole Sabe Ruth situation. Then again, he's never been very close with them to begin with, and Wolf isn't too torn up about it.

He greets the people he knows and listens to polite small talk, humming when appropriate but mostly staying silent. To anyone unfamiliar, he probably would make a slightly threatening impression of a dozing off big cat, relaxed for now but ready to fight if disturbed. His dark coat with synthetic fur at the collar and a pair of custom gauntlets with long claws probably only add to the image, and Wolf's newly upgraded glasses occasionally blink red instead of green, thermal scanner checking the room at equal intervals.

Matsuki had time to patch up and, most importantly, relax. She spent a lot of time in her room, reading. Even though she still has nightmares at least she has time to sleep into the day and compensate for waking up several times each night.
Yesterday she stocked up on some gear and only then she realized how much the security level has been heightened. She recognizes the necessity for this but it made her uneasy and reminded her of prison.
Samantha's call was a welcome distraction and so she arrived 15 minutes early. She greeted everyone, sat up straight in a chair beside Wolf and is ready to listen to what the officer has to say

Grant has spent the week trying to go on with his usual duties. He found a long time ago that it’s best if your bosses come to you with recognition on their own, vs him bragging about himself.

He’s been pain free for about a day so far. And with that relief had come renewed ambition.

"Bodyguards?" Wolf gives Samantha a slightly unimpressed look, but then promptly shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, sure. As long as this VIP isn't concerned with the fact that we all are very much persona non grata with the current most dangerous organization on the station. Defeats the point of bodyguarding a little, but I'm not going to argue with extra pay." He flexes his fingers, producing another long, annoying screeching sound from the blades. "Just don't ask me to be a chaperone, or plus one, or anything public along these lines; that will suck for everyone involved. And not in a fun way."

Bodyguards? Isn't station security more suited for this? I take the opportunity and will do the job to the best of my knowledge but I doubt we are the best for the job Matsuki responds
She takes a breath and stares at the cupboards for a moment, thinking about the mission.
Well I think you'll have thought about who to task with this so we need additional details. Who is it? Where do they plan to go? How long will they stay? We need to know things like that in order to be effective

Corvin slipped around the hard corner of the door. Rounding the threshold he panned from "corner" to "corner." "Hold that, hold it." Strafing he took the left corner, holding a perfect tight beam on the computer desk. "Perfect!" Pulling back the zoom, opening the aperture, standing perfectly still. "I am Corvin Dalles, independent journalist. Welcome to my Journal, I am calling this one, 'Deserved Ascension.' It came to me in a dream." He waved from behind his tablet, perhaps a bit shy and socially awkward for his immense size, though his exact size was difficult to determine. He chuckled it was oddly warm and full of confidence. There was little doubt with his herculean physique that he was a heavy gravity worlder. "Cornfed" so his tatoo said, a pair of full lips, a navy blue flightsuit and a single blue-green eye were the only features visible the rest of him concealed behind his oversized tablet. "How are we feeling today?" The Quantico Infosystems "Shogun" tablet was just about as bleeding edge tech as recording tech came, it was brand new, unlike everything else he owned.

He managed to keep the tablet steady and immediately began to work on editing the shot creating a fully holographic layer. Something that could not just be seen, but true posterity in a shot. The audience would be able to not just see, but touch, and even smell the recording. He pulled a battery from the harness on the hip of his flight suit. Prepared to hot swap the battery in his tablet. "Had any special dreams lately? I'd love to hear about them."

A middle aged man in a gray flight suit with orange piping walks into the room. He tries not to make eye contact with Corvin's camera.

This man has a youthful face with an easy smile. He could easily pass for 30 if it wasn't for the grey streaks in his flowing mane.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he purses his full lips and whistles. "Nice office, I'm Declan.", says Declan.

Too much attention already. Before this scheme had been cooked up Abi had thought seriously about using prosthetics to cover up his appearance. How could he be expected to get his hands dirty if people like Jurgen were always going to be there to fawn over him? Jurgen seemed well-meaning, but he also seemed like the type who would try to replace rocks with plaster if he found that Abi was being sent to mine or some such thing.

Of course Abi's manager had quickly made it clear that the film studio wasn't paying to have him sent all the way here just to be an unknown nobody. They wanted good PR and a return in their investment. Too late to worry about it now, anyway, he thought to himself as he refocused his attention to where they had stopped, in front of the door to a large office. As it opened, he relaxed his face and put on a smile.

Howdy folks! I guess by now you've heard who I am. Thanks for welcoming me!

A tall black-haired man who is occupying one of the seats in the office meets the newcomers with a sharp, distrusting look. He is dressed in a dark blue coat with a collar of synthetic fur, a slightly glowing green visor glasses and - most notably - a pair of gauntlets with long metal claws painted yellow and black. His pale face is covered in a number of small scars, betraying a likely tumultuous background, and he looks decidedly all too-violent for the background of this room.

Wolf narrows his eyes at the new arrivals, warily following Corvin's movements for a moment before sweeping over to watch Abdullah and Declan. Perhaps surprisingly, he only spares a second of attention to the actor - either unfamiliar with his work, failing to recognize him or simply not caring for celebrity worship - and instead lingers on Declan. An expression of vague recognition quickly passes over his face and he seems to be considering whether to voice it when the journalist's question distracts him.

"If you're having dreams about ascension, then you better check how *you* are feeling." Wolf snorts with dry amusement, then adds: "And I'm not even joking, on this station strange dreams usually mean that you'll start spitting black mold sooner or later. Willingly or unwillingly." He sighs, then raises his hand and wiggles his claws at the trio. "I'm Wolf. Or Volk. Or Nikolai. Call me whatever. Apparently one of your designated bodyguards for this vacation - and just a warning, I'm not going to apologize about swearing on camera."

Matsuki nods politely at the group of newcomers and reaches out to shake the hand of each of them.
Matsuki Magumi. I'll be your rearguard.

"Hi.", Declan says and shakes Matsuki's hand. Then, He reaches out his hand for Wolf to shake and says, "You look so familiar. Have we met?"