Weatherall's not much of a tourist spot. As space stations go, it's bare-bones: a small population, a lot of machinery, and very limited entertainment possibilities
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"--Of course," says Mr Stanevich, a little startled and a little hopeful.
(Eight hundred years teach you to be a much better actor. Even if Will will always be better at projecting foolish and amiable harmlessness than any truly complicated emotions.)
Another faintly wary glance, and the guard steps back under a hush hood and lifts a comm bracelet to his mouth. There's a rapid-fire conversation that isn't audible, but hardly needs to be.
He closes the connection, steps forward, and offers a reassuring smile. "We may be able to help you after all, sir."
It's only a few minutes before a few more people in Station Security uniforms show up, including a woman with short-cropped blond hair and a dark-skinned man with rank pips on his collar.
"Mr. Stanevich?" the latter says, offering a nod. "I'm told you're seeking a young boy by the name of Yasha."
The uniformed guard is leaning easily against a railing as he goes down the checklist, talking to the ship's captain-owner.
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"...Would you mind waiting here a moment, Mr. ... Stanevich?"
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(Eight hundred years teach you to be a much better actor. Even if Will will always be better at projecting foolish and amiable harmlessness than any truly complicated emotions.)
"Yes, of course I can wait."
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He closes the connection, steps forward, and offers a reassuring smile. "We may be able to help you after all, sir."
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Willis Stanevich's plain, rather solemn face brightens.
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The guard's still smiling.
Out of sight below the counter, he's got one hand resting on his station-issue stunner pistol.
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Willis Stanevich is not a suspicious man. In negotiations, maybe, but not in something like this; stunners don't occur to him.
(Will Stanton may be a slightly different case.)
"If you have any word of him -- we've been frantic, my sister has. Sure I'll wait."
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"Mr. Stanevich?" the latter says, offering a nod. "I'm told you're seeking a young boy by the name of Yasha."
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Willis Stanevich is a little confused by all the fuss, but glad to offer explanations.
Will Stanton, now... well.
Inside, perhaps, he has some other reasons.
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"I can see we have a great deal to discuss. If you'll come with us, please, sir."
He gestures, courteously, and the other two guards fall in behind Stanevich as they start down the corridor.
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