Swiftfoot is lounging on the fold-out couch, a bottle of Ungstiri vodka near at hand. She appears to be watching an infomercial on the holo-viewer. A talkative man peddles lots of swords and knives at low low discount prices. Mostly, though, it seems to be on just to have some noise in here. Razorback is ... well ... sleeping. At least he has been. In several stages, consciousness begins to force itself upon him as he unwillingly returns to a waking state. He swivels into a sitting position and surveys the room, trying to stifle a yawn.