After the meeting, I walked back to my ship for the return trip to Los Angeles. I thought long and hard. That damn Bishop knew I wanted the Omicron Sector, but he gives it to Diane! Now I'm stuck with California. I grimaced as the acid burned my stomach. I clinched my fist.
"You," I yelled at a passing ship tech. "Is my ship ready?"
"No Consul Briikase, it's almost finished being fueled"
My hand drifted to the ion pistol on my belt.
"I want that ship ready in five minutes, do you understand me?" I whispered.
The ship tech's face drained of all color. I saw a wet spot form on his leg.
"Ye, yes Consul, right away," as he turned and ran.
I continued walking to where my ship was docked. The tension releasing. There's something fishy going on between the Mandalore and Diane Blane. She always gets the best assignments. Come hell or high water I'm going to find out. And when I do, someone will be taking a vacation, permanently.
