The Fifth Neidermeyer
Neidermeyer grunts at the sound of voices speaking a relatively familiar language. Outversers! His eyes narrow and he shifts back a little deeper into the alcove, clutching the meaty leg in his fist like a cudgel.
"Aye, you did offer. I'm going to take you up on it, luv," Bri replies with an impish smile up at the Timonae. She shifts her attention to Kes then, "Have we ever done anything ha - " she cuts short right there as movement from the corner of her eye catches her attention and she peers closer at the person that moved.
Jaswinder pauses as Bri does, his attention also turning. "...Well. Company? Not *too* surprising, down here..."
Kestrel goes alert about the same time Bri does, eyes narrowing slightly as she too turns toward the movement. "Watcherself, kid," she comments quietly, taking a few steps forward. "'Ey, you. Yeah you. Why don'tcha come out wheres we kin seeya, 'ey?" Ostensibly, she's addressing Neidermeyer. At least, she's looking generally in the direction of where he's hiding as she speaks.
The man in the alcove sighs, shaking his head. He flings the leg aside. "Tastes like feet, anyway." He shuffles forward, drops a couple of feet to the floor, and limp-steps toward the trio. "Hot enough for you?" he inquires conversationally.
Bri nods almost imperceptively to Kes and lets her take the lead as the gunslinger addesses the man. When he comes forward though her eyes go wide, "Um...Kes....?" yes, the little Sivadian is actually speechless for a moment before she finds her voice again, "I'm recalling something from the museum...the one that talks about the space port on TK and how it got its name."
Jaswinder blinks at Bri. "...You know this one?" he asks carefully. "You aren't running for cover, so ...how much danger are we talking, exactly?"
"...Psh. No way," Kes says, first tilting her head at the man that emerges from the alcove, then eyeing Bri dubiously. She waves a hand dismissively. "'At ain't 'im. 'E's taller." She nods sagely, then shrugs at Neidermeyer and studies him a little more closely. "I dunno. Reckon y'ain't bad. An'... well, now 'at I look atcha a li'l bit closer... Say. You gotta name, chief?"
Neidermeyer shrugs. "Either you'll believe me or you won't. Honestly, I don't give three shits one way or another, but, now that I think of it, maybe you ought to believe me just the same. The name's Colin Neidermeyer. I came over here with four other clones courtesy of the Kamir Express." He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. "Anyone packing smokes? I need a smoke. The only cigs they pass around down here are some foofy Gankri hallucinogenic shit that smells like an armpit."