Francisco sighed internally at the Commandante's dig at his attire.
"Mi Commandante, please be assured that I didn't intend to ignore the instructions given, however given my short time back on Crete and that my only leave from Myrtos has been for duties offworld I'm afraid that the only clothing I own is a dress uniform and a bloodied flight suit!”
Chuckles were heard from around the table, Brisbane looked quizzical.
"Ah, yes, I suppose I'd best explain! I have spent the past twenty years or so somewhat indisposed offworld. Since my return I've been kept quite busy. Touch wood Senor Brisbane, our business together will make us all rich enough to retire as young as Jose! ”
Hoping that would end the questions about his dress sense, Francisco briefly looked around, hoping to spot the beer. Or Trueno's rum.
