A diplomatic mission

[Evo]

Pygmy puffs on his cigarette once more, tapping the ash off into a nearby ash-tray and nods, starting to speak once more.

"I think you underestimate how big our movement is." He grins slightly, "The Xeno movement is not only the strong-willed men and women who refuse to back down from an over-bearing government that refuses to help its own people. It's also the many independent shipping companies who support us as well as the contracted pilots of the big shipping companies who wouldn't mind signing on some additional unsanctioned cargo, mixed in cleverly with the sanctioned cargo. Word of mouth in the right places can do a surprising amount when finding buyers."

He pauses, puffing once more on his rescinding cigarette and adjusts his seat.

"How do you think we've survived this long without an opportunity such as this? We do not steal credits like the petty Rogues, or the Lane-hackers. We steal cargo in mass amounts and use what we can while fencing the rest in large quantities. I've made arrangements for a large production of transports specifically made for the purpose of ferrying back artifacts to dozens of storage facilities placed near common stops."

He notices his cigarette is down to the filter and flicks it onto the ash tray. He takes the liberty of palming the additional glass Trueno had brought over and downs it, pausing to enjoy it.

"Ahhh. Good stuff, that is. Anyways, as I was saying. Dozens of storage facilities near common stops. This allows the odd stop once in a while to re-fuel and whatnot to also have the additional cargo loaded on go unnoticed. We're capable of taking over a large portion of your trade immediately. In the future, if it goes well, that could be all. Why should you trust us? Well, 's quite up to you. I ain't gonna rant off on how Libertonians are better than filthy Junkers. You'll make whatever decision ya want to, based on actions. Words mean crap in business such as this, as I'm sure ya know."

He grins at Trueno, sliding out another cigarette from his shirt pocket and lighting it.

"So, 'm I scratching ya the right way?"

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