The local employment cooperative turned out to be roadside coffee and pastries stop. It was a small shop without a storefront. With its back the street the little shop was under a large overhead awning that covered and area with half a dozen tables that could seat three or four people. Each table had a small monitor posting jobs. There were several standing boards that did the same.

When Killian arrived three things immediately stood out to him. The first was the number psionically and/or magically active persons sitting or standing around scanning jobs. One was an obvious mystic. Several were Cyber Knights by their look. One was one of those tribal medicine men or shaman or whatever they were called. And, of course, there was a pair of Battle Magi scanning bounties in the region. He shrugged, it was place for everyone here he supposed.

The second thing that stood out to Killian was the smells. The place smelled of ground flour. Ground cinnamon and nutmeg too. I reminded him of working in the rural foothills of the eastern mountains. A place where people didn't have access the robotically synthesized flour, meal, sugar, spices, etc. He had always enjoyed the smells, they made him think of a real home. A place of peace and comfort. He smelled that here.

The last thing that stood out to Killian was the number of men and women, thirteen by his count, that all bore the facial tattoos of Penal Infantry from the Coalition. Most wore former Coalition gear. The nearness to Joe Bob Griggs smuggler's paradise for former Coalition equipment made Killian wonder if Joe Bob was invested in this place.

 It's true to say that Killians hackles go up when he wanders into the presence of that much active magical energy and that many practitioners, although he once again does his best to resist whatever bizarre, external force is trying to impose reactions upon him - gritting his teeth and concentrating on the assorted mantras that psi-hound training proscribed for focussing mental resistance.

 Initially, he was wondering if it was something to do with Nutball and the two supposed ghosts the man thinks are following him around but increasingly he's starting to suspect that they picked up a tagalong somewhere before their first world-hop. Then the imposition of someone else's sense-impressions lead to his turning slowly, staring with suspicion into the crowd as his ears perk up, teeth remaining stubbornly un-bared but his body radiating tension before he shakes it off and heads for the nearest board.

 It is after all, perfectly possible that he's losing his mind... That whatever keeps trying to force itself into his head is something entirely internal, a blood clot or a tumour, a rogue strand of ill-spun DNA predisposing him towards waking hallucinations and it's not like he can exactly go to a 'doc for free anymore.

 Focusing hard, he heads for the nearest board with a glance at the ex-CS lineup, carefully fishing his translator from his pocket and making a point to use that to read the adverts.

Security Work
1. Joe Bob Griggs, nighttime security position available, $450 FedMg weekly
2. Ray's Corner Music, event security, weekends only, $300 FedMag Fri,Sat,Sun shift
3. Hank Rheinhart's Hunting Experience, experienced swamp guide, salary negotiable
4. Cobb Redding, need experienced marksman, must have own gear, $1,200 weekly + bonus

Bounties
1. Miles Hanson, human mercenary, wanted alive or dead with property returned for theft of 30 e-clips by Joe Bob Griggs, $5,000 FedMag
2. Alavar, human Burster wanted dead or alive by A1 Security for arson and murder for hire, $15,000 FedMag, $5,000 FedMag bonus for returned alive (beaten is acceptable)
3. Jules Truman, human rogue scientist, wanted dead or alive by Leno Group (electronics) for breach of contract and theft of artifacts, $7,000 FedMag alive/ $5,000 FedMag dead, bonus of $2,500 FedMag for recovery of artifacts
4.Zaid, native american (swamp tribal), wanted dead for the murder and cannibalism of hunters in the western swamps, see Eric Roth at local hunter's market
5. Herman Vree, human RPA pilot, wanted alive by Newton Pace, $10,000 FedMag, see Newton Pace at the Hotel 9 in room 16
5. Corsca, human techno wizard, wanted for murder and theft of weapons by Golden Age Weaponsmiths, $8,500 FedMag dead/$10,000 FedMag alive
6. 6DR Sigma, full conversion cyborg, wanted dead by K1 Design (Cyber Doc organization) for murder and theft of company property, $12,500 FedMg

Rescues
1. Lost, Matt Carson, human rogue scientist, lost in central swamps investigating ruins ten days ago, $8,000 FedMag for his return, see Shirley Carson in Huntsville
2. Missing cyber horse, Elan Model 878 full conversion cyber horse, answers to 'Banjo', missing from farm south of Huntsville three days ago, $6,000 FedMag
3. Need vehicle recovered while convalescing in Huntsville, Mountaineer left after dino stampede in central swamps, see Jim Lovell in Huntsville, $6,500 FedMag

 Playing the translator over the board, Killian weighs the offered reward against the amount of time in which he'd like to try and get his armour back into action - since a couple of clips is enough ammunition to be able to kill someone with, if it comes to that.

 He can't drive a truck or ride a horse, which lets out two of the recovery options and it's one hell of a walk to the central swamp, which does the same for Mr Carson's recovery. Going after a Burster without sealed armour and a way to knock the son of a bitch out's a bad idea, as is chasing a cyborg... Or an RPA pilot if they know someone's looking for 'em.

 Filtering through the list, Killian settles on looking into the Hanson case and heads over to the address given for Joe Bob Griggs, figuring that if he can find something to quite literally give him the scent, he might be able to track the guy.