Tales of the Mourning Dove

[Kyte_]

Sounds of clanking glasses competed with the rising murmurs, conversations and laughter in the Bar. Sasha Smokkelaar was enjoying her third ale, contemplating how she was going to spend the small fortune that awaited her on Manhattan. She had been running straight for twenty hours, when her contacts on Malta sent word of a Cryer patrol entering the Tau-29 System from Baffin, effectively blocking her route. The cardimine in her cargo holds would put them at instant odds, as Cryer Pharmaceuticals preferred to be the only supplier of controlled substances in Sirius and the Outcasts had taken their share of the market long ago with the Orange Dream. Rather than risk an encounter, Sasha decided to play it smart and nosed her transport into the nearest dock. A sultry wink and a 10K Credit Card to the Dock Master purchased her six hours of sanctuary on Freeport 6, but the drinks were extra. Sasha was not troubled by the expense; she finished her ale and produced a well-worn brochure. Opening it slowly, as if unwrapping a present on Christmas morning, a small smile teased at her full lips as she brushed back her raven mane. She read for the hundredth time
"Ryuujin" Class Kusari Train
With her graceful lines and imposing defenses, the Ryuujin serves as much as a potent hauler of the State's production wonders as a diplomatic envoy of the nation's ideals. With the rich tapestry of ritual and tradition that guides Kusarian business practices, many stretching back to the centuries before space was a romantic dream, many merchants of the nation have found the accommodations of foreign ports of call to be undignified for the task of establishing trust and mutual friendship while working to gain the greatest deals. To the delight of many, these super haulers have been outfitted with suites designed to accommodate such needs, with compartmentalized, but stately, gardens and teahouses incorporated for the pleasure of collaborating men of business and industry.
Price: 170,614,750.cR - Base

As Sasha studied the specifications, she sighed and pushed the paper forward a bit, still keeping it within reach.
Soon she concluded, lighting a hand rolled smoke.
Why not now? a voice queried from over her left shoulder.
Excuse me? Sasha turned to see a rather handsome man, his rugged looks and dark features offset by a surprisingly disarming smile. The two ales in his hands didnt hurt either.
Whats her name? he inquired moving around to the other side of the small table.
She doesnt have a name she doesnt existjust a dream, she replied dryly.
Without fanfare, he placed one of the ales before her and sat down, the smile never leaving his face.
My name is Vigil and I hate to drink alone.

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