A Critical Meeting

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Quickly picking up on Paracusia's not so subtle hint to scram, Billy gathered up his datapad and small holographic projector, and placed them in his pocket. The meeting had been short but ultimately very productive, and ultimately he had gotten everything he originally planned on pitching for. Quickly standing up, he pushed in his chair.

Certainly, I'll leave you two. Once the Nightmare is complete, please let me know if either of you, or Taskmaster Escher would like to visit. I'm certainly sure we can accommodate you.

After a series of nods from the Octavarians, Billy turned and walked out the door, noting the door click locked after shutting behind him. Walking down the corridor, he paused at the reception desk, looking at the Bouncer.

Say, I had a pint of glass in that room, you wouldn't happen to know what it was would you? The bouncer grunted but stayed silent, handing Billy a sheet of paper. Looking down, Billy saw that it was a purchase invoice for two kegs of Lyneham Gold Lager, paid by the OIC and ready for pickup at the spaceport. Shaking his head, Billy folded up the piece of paper and slid it into his pocket. Don't mess with the Octavarians, and good things will happen. Walking into the corridor Billy looked for a sensibly priced eatery.

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Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.