[font=Century Gothic]Caught by surprise by the drunk man, Ruben remained a little shocked to see Lennox like that. He knew him as a man that doesn't drink too much. A little amused by the situation, the bartender addressed to Rorry:
It seems Mr. Lennox needs a little break. I appologize for this little incident.
Ruben took Lennox by his arm and gently dragged him away from the bar.
Come on. You don't want trouble with him, not when you're this drunk. Come here and sit down. I'll get you a coffee. I'll call someone to take you to your room.
The bartender poured some coffee in a cup and took it to Lennox. Then, he called someone from security to take Mr. Lennox to his room.
Lennox sighed and rubbed his forehead after he sat down. He shook his head, still cursing about himself and his inability to protect his own people. He took the coffee, nodding apologetic. "I am sorry for this...too much for me at the moment."
He took a bigger sip of his coffee, noticing the security coming in. He emptied the cup and stood up. Hardly trying to go with the security without falling on the ground, he headed to them, nodding. There was only one time before he has felt like this before. After some minutes of trying to get out of the Bar to the room Ruben offered, the security finally helped him to leave.
As Ferguson was entering the Arcadia two Freeport XV Guards passed by - between them a drunk man he thought to be recognizing: 'Lennox, yes!' This man was a frequent guest at Ral's lately. He stopped one of the guards and said in a low voice:
See after him. I believe he is on the verge of settling here.
Then he entered the bar and looked around to spot the special guest he was here for tonight. John Roary Santiago was already sitting at the table Ferguson was using for the Omicroner business, a kind of a regulars' table. The table was placed between two steel beams forming a comfortable niche in one corner of the octagonal layout of the bar. Beneath each beam Kiss was always placing a few clean glasses and some bottles of rare liquors from all around Sirius for the Omicroners and their guests. The entrance to the niche was rather narrow, but the back side was braced by two huge windows providing a view on the jumphole to Theta, and on Tirane. The table itself was one single plate made from some strange wood a Zoner brought from his travels to Kusari - the color of the table was ever changing - but Corinth actually never really cared for plants, not that he knew, and even less for the interior of this bar.
As he approached the niche the color of the table changed from royal blue to blood red. Ferguson had never been superstitious, so he barely noticed the change of color. He was rather concerned to remember the specific codes for each of the poisoned steel pins built into the table, ready to burst out of the plate when activated, in order to eliminate any potential threat. He was told that this poison was effective in less than a second, but he was doubting this defense would last forever. This poison was some organic compound extracted from amphibians originating from Gaia, and organic matter has to perish sooner or later. He denied further thoughts about it because he realized once more that he did not remember these activation codes. 'Useless' he thought 'no man can remember the code for each of the 160 pin positions around the table'.
He reached the table and smiled.
Rorry, what a pleasant surprise to meet you again so soon. I hope I'm not too late ...
Rorry was about to leave for his room when he saw the man he was looking for walk up.
John:
Not at all, I just arrived... I trust this meeting finds you in health? I am glad to make these visits, gives me a feeling of peace long found absent in the dark corners of space...
he pauses
I miss the old life... at times. Racing in my Eagle with the other young adults aboard Corfu, slinging our fighters off the edge of the 41 jump hole, and the occasional mischief... When did it get so complicated eh?
he shakes his head
Forgive me, I am babbling.... Not what I came here for.
I don't think it's just bibble babble jibber talk. It's rather the Zoners' home waters where we find the simple, yet useless truths beneath it all, unfocused and blurring reflections of ourselves tied to seemingly endless sequences of memorized pictures spawning the holographic scenery from our past we call life. Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today, so where do we go from here, actually where from? Live is a strange thing, just when you think you know how to use it it's gone, and all the while we get wasted on the way. When are we ready to proclaim loudly "I AM I" or just "I AM", before we start to pursue our goals, or after achieving them?
Ferguson poured himself a glass of mineral water, although Kiss was turning away in disgust making a grimace. He did not feel like having a drink now. The matter ahead required his full attention. The table turned white, and Ferguson did not realize that Kiss was not turning away because of the mineral water.
He listened intently to what Ferguson had to say. The mans words hit deep, but Rorry's soul had no bottom to it's pit... A life of peace was like a fading memory of happy thought, soon to be consumed by complete darkness. These visits were all that held some light left in him...
John:
Ah yes, Furys.... It's funny, I come here for business, but get lost in the desire to stay... Though I know this is no place for me.
Furys... The boy's would like to use them, I was thinking we could wrap it up similar to our last deal. Freeport 5 is out of the way and a good location for pick up.
Of course, there is my part of the offer. The OSI have been dealing in the unknown lands of Gallia. I have proof from my division coordinator, Gator, over in the Taus. Is this of interest to you?
Also, there has been rumor or Corsair threats against your men and stations. If you would like, we are able to pull our ships back, away from your stations. We wish no harm to become you...
Ferguson nodded slowly as Santiago was explaining the reasons for his visit. Then his pad chirped, and he looked down on it reading the incoming message.
Seems our office for public relations on Sparta is quite concerned about your skirmishes with the Corsairs. We cannot do much about it I guess. Things are as they are - we do not interfere directly due to our own policies- but I trust your men are distinguished enough to survive the fights with the Corsairs. However, I appreciate your offer to implement some distraction from Theta, so I can make an offer in return: Any time you might need it, drop your identification transmitters and run for shelter in 74. At some point every man has to decide whether he wants to die a hero, or rather stay alive to fight another day, or to renounce from violence to make the own living, but unless this day isn't near yet, I'd like to suggest that your men are leaving Theta, for a while at least. You might want to think about using Freeport 5 as a temporary base.
Ferguson emptied his glass, looked over to Kiss and nodded. Raluca Kiss stood up an left the table. Then he continued ...
To be honest the Corsairs are not our primary concern at the moment, they are the nearest for sure, and they are sometimes more than annoying the way they are, but somehow we managed to remove the heat from our relations. Gallia is a different matter though. This monarchy, and her bloody Princess, can be estimated as the greatest danger at the moment. You should know that some of the Omicroners remember her quite well, so no matter how far Gallia is or how well she has masked herself, the very essence always remains the same, and we know this essence.
The Zoners living in and around the Taus should actually already feel the impact of Gallic interests, but we are still in a rather comfortable situation, if not some idiotic researcher is going to find a jumphole in 74 leading directly to Gallia. Still, we're not close enough to monitor the situation ourselves, so -YES - we could settle a deal including Zoner Equipment put to an advantgegeous purpose to Zoners, and - YES - tell me more about the OSI business in the Taus and beyond. It's not that we would cry out loud in agony if some Zoner far away would have to suffer, even just being pushed around without a cause, but we know quite well that any such precedence can cause a Sirius wide avalanche. Once Gallia, or the Corsairs, or any other powerful group has made this example, the Zoner enclaves of true freedom will vanish, one by one. First only rumours are being spread, then reports of witnesses are being relyed and thus added to a still halp-unconscious level of perception, and in the end, we all know that, people will give a damn for freedom and its main hosts.
Ferguson gave a broad smile
No, my friend, I'm not trying to waste your time. I just want to make sure you can grasp the importance of the little addtitional favour I'm going to ask you for, and rest assured that we know to return favours, one way or the other.