IC: Séreméla was getting angry. Of course she'd planted the bomb, she was an explosives expert. And yes, obviously, she had been responsible for the deaths of many Vathinorians. But what did this stupid human expect? She was a mercenary, and if it meant credits, Séreméla did it. Leaving the controls she went to the cramped corner in the small ship which contained the drink synthesiser and got a strong drink. She could hear the human continuing to rant and rave but she ignored him, not wanting to give in to the temptation to yell at him. Once he'd calmed down enough to sustain a reasonable conversation she coldly told him that it was useless to struggle, that there was no way he was going to gain her sympathy or his freedom, and that he would most likely be dead within the hour. She didn't let on that some of his blows were hitting home. She was a mercenary. She was cold, ruthless, heartless. She couldn't let memories and feelings interfere with her work. With a sigh that if anyone had heard would have betrayed her coldness, she grabbed some meagre rations and walked down the short corridor to give them to the prisoner. ***** A beep from the controls woke Séreméla from her light doze and informed her that they had left hyperspace and were approaching the large reddish planet that was Vathinor. With a grin that at last she was home and could be rid of this useless human, she grabbed the controls and flew down into the atmosphere...