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Tombstone Estate, Planet Gran Canaria, Omega 49 System
Doc grabbed the cider jug from the fridge and filled Nerva's glass.
"That's what we all desire to do in the medical and research profession," answered Doc, setting the jug on the counter, "help people. But, I would be careful when it comes to governments. I don't trust them, not a one of them." He commenced in re-filling his Scotch.
"Sure, I have at least cordial relations with all of them but their wars become a reason to harass us Zoner types and interdict trade. That said, I like doing business with independent minded groups and organizations. They have less restrictions and don't ask a million questions and trust me, there is more than enough credits to be made there."
He sipped his Scotch as he thought a moment. He nodded, "Yes, a ship can be quite restrictive for manufacturing. My lab downstairs is no better nor is it what I would use for manufacturing but...."
He thought a moment before giving a curious look to Nerva, "If you're serious about mass production, you might find a facility in Canaria City that would do. I know there is a good work force for them. What do YOU think?"