The second the young man with the metal arms stepped into Albert’s diner, he knew there was something odd about him. Certainly, his obtrusive cybernetics were unusual; they were an eccentricity in a day and age where, even here, on Aegis VI, at the edge of the Known, it was a simple matter to replace lost limbs and damaged organs with bio-printed substitutes. Still, there was something more to this stranger than the physical abnormalities, and it was strong enough to to trigger a gut feeling that the elderly chef couldn’t shake. If he’d had much in the way of hair left, it would’ve stood on end a little as he approached the counter. With a touch of wariness, the Albert looked his guest up and down.
“Afternoon.” Albert nodded respectfully to his customer, doing his best to avoid staring. If the young man noticed Albert’s efforts not to notice his prosthesis, he gave no