Shannon Trevor
One Thousand Club
The Krogan didn't seem like the talking type. Not uncommon among the species John supposed. Whenever the giant alien opened his mouth, it was usually to the point. Nyis, Van Stiver and Xavier were already saying their goodbyes. The Colonel nodded to each in turn as Herc looked to him. "Just how close are you to our employers?"
"I'm not," John replied, fixing the Krogan with an even stare. "I've only ever met one representative, a man called Runcorn. I know they're serious though. They have the money and influence to find out about the station, acquire their own ship and assemble a team of considerable talent." John had faith that their backers were serious but he understood that belief might not be shared by people who had just met him less than thirty minutes ago. "They're not bluffers," the Colonel continued, rising to his feet, clapping Ellen on the shoulder as he did so. "As for what else they might be...well, I intend to find out in due course."
John standing up seemed to signal to the rest of the group that it was time to move out. He allowed each of them to file out ahead of him before taking himself over to the bar. "Beer. Anything human, please."
He waited for a man in a smart business suit to squeeze himself into the small gap beside him. "You still don't trust us," Runcorn said, looking up at John.
The Colonel shrugged his broad shoulders. "Spent what feels like a life time in spec ops and intelligence," he said as he reached into his pocket. He set the minuscule listening device on the bar before Runcorn hurriedly scooped it up. Even Van Stiver's checks couldn't detect it. Again it spoke to just how connected his employers were. "The cloak and dagger routine lost its allure for me years ago."
Runcorn nodded. "It's necessary, Colonel." He waited as John took a hefty swig of his beer. "Glad to see you took our advice of departing as soon as possible. The young man, Xavier, he might be an ass but he's perceptive. We need to get a start on any other group who may be after the Glory."
John looked down at Runcorn, his brow furrowing. "So it's confirmed they are other interests after it? Would have been good to know. That's your job, isn't it? I don't like it when I can't give my people the full picture."
Runcorn looked at his feet, wilting under John's gaze. "You did say to expect trouble." John grunted and turned back to his beer. "We knew it was likely, Colonel. This sort of information would never have stayed hidden for long. Your employers went to some suspense to keep it suppressed for as long as they could."
John finished his beer before tapping the face of his Rolex. "I have a ship to catch." He left Runcorn standing at the bar as he strode off in the direction of the docks.
"I'm not," John replied, fixing the Krogan with an even stare. "I've only ever met one representative, a man called Runcorn. I know they're serious though. They have the money and influence to find out about the station, acquire their own ship and assemble a team of considerable talent." John had faith that their backers were serious but he understood that belief might not be shared by people who had just met him less than thirty minutes ago. "They're not bluffers," the Colonel continued, rising to his feet, clapping Ellen on the shoulder as he did so. "As for what else they might be...well, I intend to find out in due course."
John standing up seemed to signal to the rest of the group that it was time to move out. He allowed each of them to file out ahead of him before taking himself over to the bar. "Beer. Anything human, please."
He waited for a man in a smart business suit to squeeze himself into the small gap beside him. "You still don't trust us," Runcorn said, looking up at John.
The Colonel shrugged his broad shoulders. "Spent what feels like a life time in spec ops and intelligence," he said as he reached into his pocket. He set the minuscule listening device on the bar before Runcorn hurriedly scooped it up. Even Van Stiver's checks couldn't detect it. Again it spoke to just how connected his employers were. "The cloak and dagger routine lost its allure for me years ago."
Runcorn nodded. "It's necessary, Colonel." He waited as John took a hefty swig of his beer. "Glad to see you took our advice of departing as soon as possible. The young man, Xavier, he might be an ass but he's perceptive. We need to get a start on any other group who may be after the Glory."
John looked down at Runcorn, his brow furrowing. "So it's confirmed they are other interests after it? Would have been good to know. That's your job, isn't it? I don't like it when I can't give my people the full picture."
Runcorn looked at his feet, wilting under John's gaze. "You did say to expect trouble." John grunted and turned back to his beer. "We knew it was likely, Colonel. This sort of information would never have stayed hidden for long. Your employers went to some suspense to keep it suppressed for as long as they could."
John finished his beer before tapping the face of his Rolex. "I have a ship to catch." He left Runcorn standing at the bar as he strode off in the direction of the docks.