You wonder why you were selected. Be sure it's not for any special skill or wisdom you posess. Rather, it's the will to do something beyond...but enough of that.
He puts down a datapad on the table.
That is a neural net address. The task required from you is quite simple. Keep your eyes open. I'm interested in pitched battles between house navies, large scale engagements...and anomalies. You see any of those, you can direct a communication at the address. That should be easy enough for you. Don't put your life in needless danger, there are enough who do it.
"Fair enough, then." Solanus said, as he stood up. "Do these reports go directly to you, or to whomever you work for? And I never quite got your name either. "
Jimmy still sat he was sipping on his drink still,the botle from which he poured it nearly dry the cloaked figure had caught his attention but he ignored his own urge to investigate he did however notice the uneasyness the man caused in the crowdbut he remained on the people he was talking to
/@ orange butterfly sorry if i cut you off mid rp i lost my pc til lrecently we can ignore it and move on or resume or whatever//
Ezio grimaced with every step, the click-click-click of his cane on the deck keeping time with the throbbing pain in his leg.
The doctors on Mindelo were convinced he should still be taking bed rest, and Ezio was half-convinced they were right; but he had been laid in that thrice-damned hospital unit for three months, and he was not a man accustomed to being out of commission.
As he click-click-clicked his way into McCool's, a slight cry of remembrance went up from some of the locals, and shouts of recogition, for him to join in on a game of cards or dice as he was wont, to drink (He was always very generous with his tab, a fashion that endears one to the baser sort); but he waved them off with a few words, shifting his way through the tables and stools to a small booth, and imparting to a waitress a request for a drink, if such a pretty lass would be so obliged.
He was here on business, as it always is with intelligence agents; even when here on pleasure, it was always business.
He sat sipping his drink, not forgetting to toss a wink and a smile and, more importantly, a generous tip at the girl who brought him it, simply sitting and waiting as he listened to the chatter and hum of the place.
His leg still hurt rather badly.
Conrad stumbled against the frame of the door, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand, making sure to spill a few drops down onto the sash and jacket of his hispanic garb. It was not nearly as loosely fitted as he was used to, and the irritation of wearing it was making his drunk act that much harder.
As he slowly wound his way through the tables towards the bar, using them for support, his eyes lit upon Ezio, almost as if by accident, and he angled towards the small booth as he cried out in traditional Cretian greeting, slurring his words.
"Ezio, mi amigo, mi hermano, how do you do upon such a fine and fantastic day as this!"
He dropped into the seat across, his face maintaining the same friendly drunkess of a moment before, but his voice dropping several octaves and decibels into the positively menancing.
"I do not like to meet like this, in public, my friend. What if someone is watching us? Watching me!"
Ezio smiled, taking a casual sip of his drink.
"My good friend, what is done in public is always seen, but never suspected. That, after all, is why you are dressed so, and as drunk as a mule."
He leaned in across the table, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he made meaningless hand gestures.
"And we are being watched. Seven O' clock, table, red shirt, Freeport Security."
He took another drink before cintinuing more loudly, "And that's when she screamed "SCREW YOU" at him, and he replied, "YOUR SISTER ALREADY DID!"
Ezio rolled back into his seat, laughing hysterically.
Conrad waited for a second with a blank face before chuckling softly, a small laugh that grew into hysterical paraxoyms as he fell off his seat to the floor.
As Ezio helped him up, he stared intently at a spot on the wall three metres to the left of the man Ezio had pointed out.
One never should look directly at an security guard. They, along with soldiers, bodyguards, intelligence agents, and all other sorts of people who constantly work in hostile situations have a sort of sixth sense for being watched. Let your eyes linger too long, and they'll pick you out as a wolf in a heartbeat.
He slid back into his seat, still chuckling intensely.
"Ah, Ezio, but to business yes? Do you have the artefacts?"
"Oh course my friend. But first..."
He stood, raising his glass as he tapped on it with a fork, bringing the attention of the entire bar.
"Bartender, if you would, a round of the finest Cretian tequila for the house, on my tab!"
As the bartender busied himself, ezio waited for every man to have a shot in his hand, including the guard.
"I would like to toast, my dear friends, to that which brings us all here! Business, freedom and the pursuit of immeasurable wealth!"
He drained the shot as the rest of the bar did the same, returning to his seat.
"That should take care of him. God, the poor fools, a double shot of Crete's finest on their unprepared constitutions! It will be a wonder if any of them walk straight in an hour. But here."
He took from beneath the table a silver flight case, opening it as he set it on the table, making sure the open top obscured the security guard's view of the interior.
"Fine specimens, yes?" He said loud enough to hear as he pulled out a particularly glimmering artefact and held it up to the light.
"You of course, see the real merchandise."
Conrad took the pro-offered artefact, pulling from within his jacket a small spectroscope and examining it closely as he paid no mind to the small silver and black spheres within the case.
"Any new features I should know about?"
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