Far from home and far from his normal territory of operation, Richard made his way to Carnarfon Bar. The location where he can find the right contact. Not normally out in the civil, Richard had his long dark blue coat on, with his old government badge on. The old overcoat showed years of use and marks from more active days, on his belt his trusty datapad and under the coat, over his shoulder hanging on his side is a small bag. As he made his way to the bar he looked around. Not a familiar face. Richard walked up to the bar.
"Whiskey, double on the rocks"
The bartender promptly served the stranger, who was clearly a bit out of place, but not suspicious to raise alarms. Richard took his drink and turned around, leaning back on the bar table. Detaching his datapad he loaded up a file, he had an old transmission detail saved and a picture of a man. A man with something, that raised Richards interest. He had a good look around before spotting the man.
Richard made his way to the man and took a seat in front of him.
"Hope you don't mind if I join Mr. Hunter"
He placed his drink and his side bag on the table alongside with his datapad, turning it around so the man can see the saved transmission. His very own transmission.
Cliff Hunter sat at the table. It had been a busy day, with a busy schedule. As CEO of the Bretonian Division of Deep Space Engineers, he had a lot on his mind, and a lot on his plate. DSE)- Bretonia was very busy with the various contracts they held. Everything from building and repairing tradelanes, scrapping the wreck of the old Southampton Shipyard and having to deal with the knowledge the Bretonian Government had brought in ALG to help with Southampton's demolition.
It wasn't so much the competition that he dislike. It was the sense of being stabbed in the back by the BretGov for bringing in ALG, rogues and vagabonds all. Hell! He would have preferred a Junker organisation over AGL any day.
AGL and DSE... let us say they have bad history from Texas days.
Cliff glanced over the patrons at Caernafon's bar. Looking for a man who was not a regular.
A man, one who seemed out of place and down on his luck came over, and sat down without asking.
He turned his datapad to Cliff..
"We can talk."
Cliff read the communique - the advert for expressions of interest for a sizeable chunk of his portfolio of plant and equipment. The man looked rough, unkempt even, Like he had done time... not that he minded. DSE) had hired a lot of ex-cons from Liberty.
"Who are you and above all can you afford this?"
The man nodded. Cliff paused, thoughtfully. Things had gone well in Poole. Building Dorset Station was a very sound investment. Its position close to the JH to O-49, now Exeter, paid off. Not only had they pretty much fulfilled the contract to build the trade-lanes and the Poole/Exeter jump gate, but were well on the way to continue to build through to Planet Exeter. Well within budget.
"So you are interested in buying. What are you offering?"
Richard grinned a bit and pulled his sidebag on the table
"Of who I am is not going to be your concern. Lets just say I traveled a long distance through dangerous space to find you. My... interest in the assets you advertised in your comms is high."
Richard took a sip of his drink before leaning back in relaxation..
"My operations needs an asset like this to extend them.. I'm sure a man in your statue understands that business must grow and prosper on multiple legs... in case one gets.. blown off"
Richard laughed a bit on his own joke and tapped his right lower leg wich resulted in a metallic clank.
"Right here right now I'm ready to give you a sizable amount that would bright up your day, and ultimatly would bright up mine. My only request is, that no questions asked, no side monitoring, and no trickery... a plain and simple deal in these troublesome times.. so what you say mister"