Travis drained the last of his tequila, and tried his best to conceal his eying of the stewardess. Hm mm...Canopian perhaps?, he thought. He had visited a few of their pleasure worlds in his youth, before the Clans had arrived. He did his best to not be obvious in his appraisal of the stewardess' figure: thin waist, chesty, athletic(probably a runner)... Her outfit was just as pleasing as her figure: a low cut tunic revealed enough to make most men salivate, and her short skirt made no attempt to hide her long legs. Her choker was a finely tooled leather, the surface gleaming, presumably having been polished. Something was odd about it however...
He felt a presence at his side, and nearly jumped when he noticed Reinhardt was directly alongside him.
"She is quite beautiful, isn't she sir?" Reinhardt had his usual knowing smile; that is to say, there was a millimeter difference in height between the left and right edges of his lips. He tilted his head towards Travis however, his voice barely audible above the low hum that was always present on the gravity decks. "Did you notice the collar, that slight shine to it?"
Travis calmed himself, and looked again at her collar.
"What about it? Its polished, so what? Its not really my thing, bu-"
"Its not polish. Its not leather- that shine is the reflection from micro-circuitry." He quieted, seemingly unwilling to say more when he was within earshot of the others. Travis frowned slightly, however he remained silent as the stewardess opened a hatch, and waved them into a well-appointed stateroom.
"These will be your quarters during your stay. Please be sure to secure yourself for the jump." The woman smiled, not warmly, but not unpleasant either. Reinhardt smiled and thanked her as Trisha and Nicholai followed Travis into the room. After entering however, Reinhardt looked around the room suspiciously. When Travis tried to say something, Nicholai held a finger to his mouth, indicating silence. Opening Travis' case, he produced a sonic disruptor: standard for any businessman traveling on a transport vessel not owned personally.
After Nicholai had setup the small device, and dialed it in to the room's size, everyone secured themselves in their chairs, and Reinhardt looked hard at Travis.
"Alright Mr. Olivetti. I've seen devices like that before. Did you notice how it was cinched tightly against her skin? Not actually choking her, but making contact around her neck, not allowing any gaps?" Travis nodded, not certin if Reinhardt was implying what he thought he was.
"I can't be sure its exact function, but without an attached transceiver, it can't be accessed from an external source. The only logical conclusion is that it's some type of behavioral controller. Like a dog collar: the wearer attempts to do something the Collar's designed to stop, and either the person gets a shock, or simply can't perform the action. I can't actually be sure which it is without having a tech guy study it, but that would be my professional opinion." Nicholai and Trisha both seemed deeply upset about the idea of such technology even existing. Travis himself was scowling at the spy.
"So Reinhardt, what does that mean? Does whoever is running this show have something for sale that's so bad, he can't trust his own people? The fact that she was dressed that way, added to that device... Makes me question exactly who we are dealing with. I feel like I've heard of that technology before... I just can't place it." Travis shook his head in frustration. He hoped that the device wasn't some foreboding sign of the seriousness of their situation.
Reinhardt shrugged. "I don't know. Theres always rumors that someone has perfected that stuff. Mind control collars, a mech's nuerohelmet designed to brainwash the pilot... Theres always some new techno horror story. I didn't think the stuff actually existed, but if it does... Could be interesting to get our hands on it. Hmmm..." The group lapsed into an uneasy silence.
Trisha and Nicholai talked quietly between themselves, positioned close to, but not directly infront of, the door; clear firing lanes, ever the vigilant soldiers. They discussed the possibilities of subduing someone who wore such a collar, if it became an objective(although they seemed highly disgusted with the idea of a collar being able to control, or influence one's actions).
Travis seemed to be attempting to remember where he had heard of, or seen, such technology before.
Reinhardt seemed unconcerned, and allowed himself to fall to sleep... However, Travis didn't actually believe the man was sleeping. Simply saving energy that might be required later.