A new window appeared on the computer screen, of three pilots each dressed in unfamiliar but identical uniforms. One spoke.
"Hey! We're not happy about this. We come here all the way from Liberty with supplies for senor Carlos and find he's been mutinied upon and locked up in his own cargo hold!? What the hell are you people playing at?"
Alandra glanced at Cezar, who tried to make a reply, before being interrupted.
"...You better listen to me closely, Moreno. Carlos is a very good friend of mine. We where an inch from blasting your ship out of the sky earlier when we first found out. I'm beginning to regret having my men hold their fire."
Cezar finally managed to break through. "Don Carlos is ill, senor. If we hadn't have done what we did, we'd all be dead."
An older man in the background with a picture of a bluish bird embroidered on his uniform shook his head, and muttered something under his breath. The man at the front glanced back, and nodded, before speaking again.
"If any of this is true, then you won't mind us going to see Senor Carlos. Where is he?"
Cezar glared at the screen. "He is in no fit state for visitors, least of all from you mercenaries. Come back in afew days."
The man muffled the microphone, and said something to the others behind him. More conversation followed, before the man un-muffled the microphone.
"We will return in two days. If we are not allowed to see Senor Carlos at that time, we will contact another Benitez commander and have them over-rule you."
The comm-window closed, revealing one behind, still connecting. After a couple of minutes a man appeared in the window wearing a Cryer uniform.
"What is it? I'm very busy, you know...."
Cezar was about to speak, but Alandra cut across.
"Dr Lloyd Johnson? this is Alandra Alba Benitez, Senor Carlos' daughter...."
The man nodded. "I see. How is the don doing?"
"Not well" Alandra replied, and recounted the day's events.
"Not good at all" said the doctor. "Clearly his condition is worse than I originally thought. Is he still confused?"
Alandra nodded.
"Well, unfortunately I have patients here, and can't come to Crete to see him. From what Mr. Carlos told me when I spoke to him, treatment by Cretian doctors is also out of the question. My advise would be to make sure that he can't hurt himself. I'm sure he'll snap out of it sooner or later. Keep me posted."
With that, the transmission terminated.
