The bag was open and as it dropped it tilted to one side. It hit the deck plate at an angle, its base pushing upwards and ejecting some of the contents with appreciable force through the opening. Some items became airborne while others dropped and rolled, slid, or skittered over the traction ridges of the metal surface. Datacards and pad, a few low denomination credit chips, some sheets of flimsiplast and paper, and small fabric roll were scattered about in a few moments.

The noises generated - the thud of the leather bag and its remaining contents upon the deck, the chitterings of metal on metal and plastic, too, the distinctive tink of hard currency dropping - drew the attention of those nearby as did the rather alarmed, "Oh dear!" emitted by the bag's owner.

After a beat of surprise, a handful of beings hurried forward to gather up the escaped items, scooping them back into the bag or pressing them directly into the hands of a stutteringly grateful Brask. In short order all his possessions had been restored to him apart from a few credits pocketed by one of the helpers and the fabric roll.

This last had come to a halt when it struck the Cizerack officer's foot with the light clink of the metal contents - various tools of their owner's trade - as it did so. There they lay at an impasse of sorts since nobody expected Meorrrei to pick it up but nor did anyone dare approach close enough to her to do so.