To: Felix Stendahl

[Sciamach]

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To: Felix Stendahl
From: Inquisitor Erikasaria Espinosa of the 2nd Tarxien Order
Subject: Your future
Encryption: [Absolute]

Don't get too comfortable in the belief that what I'm going to ask of you is standard fare: it's not often I pull in a complete stranger for favors.

Specifics will have to wait; I have no intention of leaving any kind of paper-trail here. Last I knew you were camping out somewhere in the slums on Freeport 11 out in the ass-end of nowhere-- and while I couldn't give a toss less where you choose to bed-down, I've no use for you out there. To keep it simple: I'm presently out on an operation and will be returning to Valetta Shipyard in a few days. Be nearby when I return and we can talk in person. I'll have an agent of mine relay specifics to you upon your arrival.

And be mindful of whom you speak to; the relative internal peace the Church of Tarxien has maintained for the past two years in Maltese space is apparently insufficient to certain shameful inhabitants that deserve no specific mention. Keep your head down and just play yourself off as a smuggler until a gentleman in the truest sense of the word named Harry Callahan approaches you station-side.

'Til then, suffer well.

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[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/

A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.