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[Is it possibly for a mental voice to sound giddy? Because there's a distinct giddy tinge to By's thoughts, for all that his words come out with his normal, lazy, lightly Russian-accented drawl.]

Byerly Vorrutyer here. We're on Earth, pre-spaceflight, although someone who isn't me will need to get a better read on the actual date and location. Linguistically, it's a hodgepodge. I can hear archaic Russian, a whole host of Asiatic and Romance languages, and something else I can't quite place.

If you can "hear" this, check in. We need to know who we've got to work with.

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I'll keep an eye on things. And if it gets too hard, I'll skip out somehow or another.

[There's a pause for a few minutes, which might seem to be the end of the conversation, until Riddick comes back with the revelation:]

Well, shit. Pretty sure Vilari's the woman.

Strange, that they're both Travelers. And Travelers who would not have been present if we were here before, at that, unless time passes even more strangely in Liminal Space than we might have thought.

But out of all of us, she does make the most sense.

Well, and the captain of that damn ship is a Traveler, too, and not one of us long-timers, either. Startin' to wonder if they stick us in important positions on purpose more often than not.

[And he has no comment on Vilari "making sense" to be his in-Jaunt wife. Or girlfriend. Or sex bunny. Whatever she happens to be.]

Of course it is on purpose. It gives us some idea of where to look for our assignment.

It's only some of us, though. Don't think Phillip's a in position we oughta worry a whole lot about.

[Not to everyone at large, anyway, just him. Though that begs the question as to whether they're supposed to pay attention to that whole "previously infiltrated" thing, in addition to whatever their mission is supposed to be.]

What is his position? Leaving aside the obvious.

Pickpocket, unless I miss my guess. Also, son of a cafe owner.

[There's a brief pause.]

Who might be an assassin or alchemist somethin'. She just slipped a powder onto somebody's food.

Ah. It's going to be one of those Jaunts, then.

And apparently I get to be all wrapped up in it. Great.

[Can you feel the sarcasm, Liara? You should totally be able to feel that sarcasm.]

Guess it's better than musical doors in the desert, though.

It wasn't that bad, after they stopped shooting at us.

Are you kidding? It was boring as hell.

[He knows he solved a couple of those puzzles just because he had nothing more interesting to do.]

I suppose we will have to agree to disagree. It's something I would have happily spent a year or more on, when I was younger.

[Before Shepard. Before there was a galaxy to help save, and her soul to sell to give that the best chance of succeeding.]

You're the scientist. I'm just the thug.

[Whenever he says that, it's with a little bit of irony, since obviously he's more than that-- but it's a running joke.]

[Her theatrical sigh is audible - a subtle sign that wherever she is, she's out of the way of any observation.]

The company I keep.

--I think I will be ecstatic if we do not find any railguns at the last minute this time. [Which they had in the shaft of the megaron; that much, she would certainly have shared.]

No, but we might find somethin' else.

All right, I gotta go. Vilari's comin' downstairs. Shit, I gotta figure out what her name is, now.

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