*sigh* Another day, another hundred million in the bank. Looks like my trader corps are having more action than me watching over Liberty...
Commander Greg peruses the day's financial report on the balcony of his estate in Manhattan. The butler walks in with a tray, on it a glass of cold iced tea... "Your tea, sir"
Thank you, Winston. You may take the rest of the night off if you wish. Just please make sure the hounds are feed before you go. *sigh* Its taking HQ quite awhile to sift through the paper work and approve my cruiser again. Hell, I can buy a Carrier if i had wanted to. Winston, what do you think I should do?
"Patience is a virtue, master Greg. Something that will help you along your path of life, sir. I shall be going now, sir. Enjoy your evening" The butler turns the other way and walks into the villa, as if he were engulfed by the shadows. Greg, now alone, thinks out loud and gets things off his chest.
"Their out there, somewhere. Those pirates, terrorist and smugglers. And I can't touch them. At least they can't do that to me either. I think I might need insurance. Maybe a "hand" to reach out and "touch" my foes. No! What am I saying? I am of good repute all over the Sirius sector. What would people say if they found out? I look desperate. I better just get some sleep. This will all blow over soon.
And as the butler had done, Greg walked into the house. His shadow grown long with the sunset behind him, melding with the darkness of the house. Hes shuts the door...
Then he remembers he left his iced tea outside. Quickly, he unbolts the lock and grabs the glass. the rushess back inside...