Lloyd kept his voice down, realizing that this could quickly get messy if the wrong people heard. He'd be fine, but the rest of his small force probably not so much. "Interesting. And I suppose your interest in this is the same as mine, ensuring Zoner control of Gran Canaria? The Baffin Zoners always were an honest lot, so I suppose we have a deal. Send me a secure message later with a time to meet - best bet is sending it to my fighter, Blackout." He raised his voice back to normal and looked around yet again.
"Actually, you're one of the Baffin Zoners, you can just pass along the message about the guards. Admittedly, I may have threatened to shoot Holiday once or twice, but those were special circumstances. Corsairs were involved." The bartender finally showed up with a glass of what appeared to be a soft drink from Liberty. One sip confirmed it - root beer, definitely not Lloyd's first choice. And it was about half flat, too. Ah well, still had to stay clear-headed.