June doesn't have anything else to say at the moment. They pass the dreadnaught at speed, and soon New Winchester is visible on the horizon.

"I don't know what the least panic-inducing approach is. There are gun turrets facing the common shipping lanes, so maybe not those."

She starts curving around. "Is there some part that's relatively unobserved?"

"Uh... I don't really know, sorry. Maybe sort of - below from the local perspective? Down there. Whole place is surprisingly flat for being in the sky..."

"Okay." 

She tries to land somewhere without any buildings or people that could see the landing spot. 

It's a busy city, it may be difficult to avoid all eyes. And yet, it's bad form to look at the stars too much, and large portions of it are abandoned and overgrown by the highly aggressive flora of the Reach.

She can't avoid notice entirely, it's all but certain people will have seen her flying near the city, but nobody saw them land and anyone searching should need to search a fairly wide area. And would be looking for a giant crystalline crab.

"Could go round up some barflies to move all this Bronzewood to the market. Plenty of people looking for work. We can... Imply it may or may not be entirely legitimately acquired, which tends to stop folk from asking questions."

"Sounds good. Should just one of us go or is it safe to leave it here?"

She looks at the large pile of gleaming wood doubtfully. "It's suspicious, this much good wood just sitting here. But also very tempting. Ah... Better if one of us stays here. You or me?"

"You know better how not to spook the locals and I can defend the stuff better." 

"Okay. Sorry to make you wait."

She reaches inside her coat and repositions a gun that wasn't obvious before to an outer pocket where it's an obviously weapon-shaped bulge if you're looking. And confidently walks out.

A few minutes later, a scruffy man in a dark coat and with an obvious facial scar walks around a corner of the nearest crumbling brick rowhouse, whistling and twirling a knife. He trails off when he sees half a tree's worth of Bronzewood and a strange woman. "Eh? What're you doing here, then? Only troublemakers," he smirks, "'Ave much reason to be in these sorry lanes."

"Oh, I'm loads of trouble." 

"Trobulemakers gots to watch out for each other, in both senses. Watch each other for treachery, and watch each others' backs against the pipe-hats. All nice and tidy, nobody wants blood in the streets, that sort of thing. You can think of me as a, ah, guy 'wif a moving company. Lots of burly help what carry shivs and irons just in case, you get the picture? I'd 'preciate some elucidation on what kind of trouble you are, 'zactly." He glances at the wood, greedy-eyed.

"I'm the kind of trouble that's very friendly when people are nice! When people are less nice, I have...less room to be friendly. The last guy who tried to shoot me isn't star-crazy anymore, but I'd've done it sooner and gentler if he'd just asked nicely." 

"Anyone can say they're friendly. Now, me, I cannot help but wonder whether you are perhaps here for reasons related to things I may or may not keep where few prying eyes would care to look. Havin' business of your own to attend to is reassuring on that front but," knife-twirl, "One wonders, ya know? A gesture of goodwill would be reassurin'."

"Want me to fix your scars? Or any less obvious aches and pains you may have." 

"I was thinkin' I could use a two-by-four to fix me favorite chair but, now, that is something that is assuredly not-to-be-messed-with-ish if it's not plain quackery."

She spreads her hands benevolently and glows at him. 

He puts away the knife. He feels his face. He stretches his left leg. He's grateful and annoyed and spooked.

"-Right. Well. I'll have to find a good place to bleed, to get that back. 'S kind of a badge of office. You here to make trouble for anyone in particular, starshine?"

"Nope! Just want to sell this stuff and get the lay of the land a little better. A few hours ago there was some kind of explosion involving stuff with Correspondence on it and what I think in retrospect may have been Hours and before that I was just outside London in the Neath. Getting myself situated is a task and a half, I tell you." 

"Well, I somewhat hesitate to initiate dealings with someone who gets in trouble like that, but glow a bit more for some of my lads and Harley's Crew will more-or-less guarantee you and yours safety from the left of the law in the twelve blocks of New Winchester we call home, within reason and as much as we can given that people are people but I'm sure you know how these things work, and try to look out for you if ya need it."

"Thanks! I'm not going to leave here until my friend gets back, but if your lads want to come here I'll be happy to." 

"That's not really logistic-uh-ly possible, 'fraid. Here." He flicks a business card through the air - it sails quite far, but not all the way to Lucy. It's for a 'logistics and teamsters company'. "If you're going to hang around the north half of downtown, please stop by."

"Will do!" 

The criminal turns back the way he came, scowling once Lucy can no longer see his face. He'll have to be cautious for a while.

Some time later, June returns, trailed by the same guy. "Hello again, miss starshine! Your friend's a good negotiator. My teamsters are happy to take on a rush order, no problemo."

June comes up to her and quietly says, "You spooked that guy pretty bad. I was scared for a bit, but he knew a Tackety signcode. Anyway, I think you can trust him to play nice, at least once."

"I think people might've been harder to spook, in the Neath. But then, if I'm the only source of mountain-light here, I suppose this place must be intrinsically more dangerous." 

"Seems likely, yeah," June comments. She frowns. "By the way, 'starshine' is not actually a compliment. If someone offers you some, say no. It may or may not be addictive."