The smuggling ship landed at the arcadia spaceport under a matt black sky. Someone might have asked him how he knew it was a smuggler's ship, and Adam might simply have laughed. If you knew anything about ships, you would know this was a smuggler's ship. It was small, very small, for any sort of cargo ship. It looked more like a pleasure cruiser, but you could tell by the way she flew that the insides had been gutted. Instead of fancy couches and a fully stocked liquor bar, the ship would have the rear lounge area hollowed out for cargo. You could tell that by just how forward heavy she was. If this really was a pleasure cruiser, she would lean further back on her struts when she landed.

The forward heavy nature of a modified smuggler's ship meant that you hand to strengthen the forward supports. If you were obvious about it, you got your struts externally strengthened, but if you were smart, you simply added a little extra weight to the rear struts to balance things out.

But that wasn't the only subtly that marked it out as a smuggler's ship. It was painted a shade of mat steel gray, not dark enough to rouse suspicion, but the matt paint was clearly going to be some form of radio blocker, and would likely deflect radar.

The twin engines were too big for a ship that size,, and he was more that sure that part of the engine compartment had been adjusted to hold a D class warp core. Often, in these pleasure cruisers, they had a back backthroom that was just about big enough to hold a D class warp core if you plated up the interior with led and alloy for protection against the warp field.

All in all it was a pretty sweet ride.

Adam had flown plenty of smuggling ships in his short stint as a space pirate to know what he was talking about, and smiled rather grimmly as he watched the ship settle onto her struts.

The supercharged engines cut off with a dull roar, leaving the metal to pop and crackle as it slowly began to cool.

He recognized the man that trotted down the ramp. Donovan Red hadn't changed much since they had last seen each other. He was about a head shorter than Adam was, but built like a bulldog, with an impressively muscled upper body. He had short cropped dark hair, and tattooed sleeves that crawled up his arms and peaked out from under the collar of his shirt sending abbreviated tendrils up onto his neck.

His eyes locked with Adam, and the smile he gave was somewhere between cheshire cat and rather wolfish.

He walked over hand held out, Adam took it, and in the custom of smugglers they shook hands for a long time, sizing each other up. This was probably the first time Donovan had ever gotten to look down on anyone, short as he was, and his eyes flashed briefly over the wheelchair in which Adam sat.

The extended handshake didn't break, but Donovan clapped hard on his good shoulder, while their hands remained clasped in the middle, "Why cinderella what have you gone and done to yourself this time."

"A giant space bitch stole my nipple." Adam said, attempting to keep a straight face.

Donovan's expression remained flat, a perfect poker face, "Just a normal tuesday for you then."

Adam chuckled, "Something like that."

Donovan glanced down to where waffles was sitting obediently at Adam's side, her bright red service vest on display for all to see. Donovan gave Adam a knowing look, but Adam ignored it. The damn smuggler was to perceptive for his own good, but it didn't mean Adam had to explain himself.

Behind him, Sunny stood leaning against her spear.

Donovan dropped Adam's hand finally, in the custom of smugglers, and lifted his chin to Sunny, "Ah, the lovely Ms. Vir is it, or wait, you Drev don't have that custom."

Sunny gave Donovan a nod, "Red, You look just as feral as the last time we saw you."

He laughed, "A compliment coming from you,the Mighty Saint of Anin." His voice was almost mocking, but not quite, He turned back to look at Adam, "Heard you went and got yourself a son, congratulations on the rugrats. Never had time for any myself."

Adam raised an eyebrow, "That you know of."

Donovan barked another laugh, "But the man does speak the truth. Yes I've probably left a few bastards in my time, but what's bygone is bygone." he motioned with a thumb back towards the ship, "I know its custom among smugglers to break bread together before business, heck I helped to make that little custom, but this seems like something a little bit more important that price negotiation."

Adam nodded and pushed his wheelchair forward over the drk tarmac.

Donovan walked with him, eye glancing down at Adam's chair again, "You know they have automatic hover chairs these days. Hell they even have bionics if you're rich enough." He raised an eyebrow pointedly. Both of them knew that Adam had more than enough money to buy himself some bionics if he wanted, and he kind of had if you considered steel eye.

Adam waved a hand, "It isn't that serious. Doctors say I'll be back on my feet in a few weeks. Just have to rest for now."

"He shouldn't even be using that arm." Sunny grumbled from behind him, though she didn't move to control his wheelchair. They hit the ramp and Adam slowed a bit, struggling only momentarily to move from one plane to the other. Neither Sunny nor donovan offered to help, and Adam didn't want or expect them too.

They understood how he felt.

"I'm fine, and it gets in a bit of a workout now that I have been lying in bed for the past few weeks."

Donovan strolled languidly next to Adam, like he didn't have a care in the world. If Donovan had been the kind of man to wear T shirts with slogans on them, the saying that most befit him was probably, "Walk like you're the king or like you don't give a damn who the thing is."

They rolled up into the front of the smuggler's ship, the area just behind the cockpit reserved for an entry hall. It was a tight squeeze, but more than enough for him and his chair as he rolled back into the gutted interior. Usually he would have expected the ship to be full to the brim with contraband, boxes stacked high to the ceiling, some of them glowing with blinking green biomonitors for shipping organs or, the ever popular, vat grown human skin.

But this time there was only one crate.

It sat in the middle of the cargo hold, held down with magnetic strips.

Adam rolled forward over the floor and Donovan stepped out just ahead of him waving a hand towards the box which beeped lid opening with a sharp hiss. He stopped by the box and opened the lid as Adam approached, craning his neck to see over the edge.

"Need me to get you a box?" Donavan asked, the smirk on his face visible in the dim orange light that glowed up from inside the box.

Adam snorted, "Since I'm sure you have one on hand?"

Donovan made a face.

And though he didn't have to, but to prove a point, Adam slowly pushed himself up from the wheelchair.

"Adam...." Sunny said, warning voice resonating from just a few feet behind him, but he waved a hand in her direction.

She went silent, but he did note that she moved closer to him, well within range of his body if he were to fall.

His legs felt weak, standing was like trying to stand after that time he ran a marathon on A!-36. The blood rushed from his head and down into his legs for a short moment as his blood pressure tanked. He gripped the edge of the box and blinked as the vision returned to his human eye.

The other eye still saw nothing, covered as it was by his old eyepatch.

Exhaustion field his inability to connect properly with his mechanical eye, and so he hadn't been using it as often in the past few weeks or so.

"I may have a box, but I'm afraid I left my walker at home." Donovan said pointedly.

Someone might have thought the jobes at his condition were insults, and perhaps rude, but with smugglers, sarcasm was the language of friendship. Adam was honestly surprised Donovan was so concerned for his health.

"I'm fine." He said, leaning heavily against the edge of the crate, momentarily forgetting his legs as he looked inward, eyes falling on the racks and racks of strange little viles, glowing with a shade of orange Adam would have recognized anywhere.

"void light." he muttered.

Donovan reached into the crate, "Wait until you see this."

Adam took one hand off the crate, plucking the holopad from the man's hands watching with narrowed eyes as the screen burst to life to reveal nothing but darkness, and a set of glowing yellow eyes.

Adam could hear Sunny's hands clench tightly around the shaft of her spear as her thoughts found themselves drowning in a sudden haze of red. Ever since adam had received the anima surgery, he had been able to read minds in a rudimentary sort of way. Sunny was the easiest for him to read, but lately, when talk of kazna came up, her mind was a clouded red haze of rage.

He didn't blame her.

Kazna had almost killed Adam, and would have harvested his soul if given the opportunity.

"For the acolytes, you know what to do."

The holopad shut off leaving them in silence.

"Now who the fuck are the acolytes." Adam said, glowering at the holopad.

Donovan shrugged, "Thought you might know better than I, she is your mother in law."

Sunny growled, and the two men turned to look at her. Her golden eyes flashed, and Donovan leaned back slightly, distrubed by just how familiar those eyes seemed from the eyes on the holoscreen, "She is NOT my mother."

Donovan raised a hand, "Sorry, tough subject, but you get what I mean."

Adam frowned staring into the box and the small orange viles, "What even are these,"

Donovan shrugged again, "Not sure. The station chief and I have an agreement you see. The kind of agreement where I keep the criminal element in line and sometimes he lets contraband through to me, usually small stuff, but this time he sent thai to me. No idea where it comes from or who its going to except for the note on the back."

Adam flipped the holopad over.

K to N

"Thought the k probably meant kazna, but I don't know about N."

Adam shook his head face gone grim, "Oh my vertically challenged friend, as a smuggler you should be ashamed of yourself." He looked up to Donovan's almost perpetually raised eyebrow.

"WHo was smuggling in these parts before you or I were off of training wheels?"

There was another pause.

"Well shit. That rat bastard...."

Adam nodded, "Noctus. I'd bet my remaining organs on it."