The interior of the farmhouse was cozy, but lacked warmth. The walls were clean, the counters were bare and the cupboards empty. Yet it seemed like someone made sure to clean off the cobwebs and keep things tidy but the façade of a lived in home was just that a façade.
At a table in the kitchen a woman sat looking at a holo-projector image. Across from her sat Captain Hurn, and in the holo-projector was a scrambled image of the third party, the voice digitally masked.