Mustered Out on Regina


Return of the Mac

The dull routine of the QLoK in the port is broken mid-afternoon when a taxi pulls up outside it. Sinclair tumbles out of the passenger door, hitting his head on the concrete then laughing. The three Vargr find it equally amusing.

Splinter sighs as he watches him stumbling up the ramp:

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Esalin Pink Panda Pelt coat,” Sinclair replies, ruffling the pink and purple patched fur. "They’re nearly extinct so their fur is really valuable. But I got a deal on it. Normally they sell for Cr. 7000 a ton but my supplier can get them for Cr. 2800 per ton. There’s just four tons of them left. Do we want them?

The party members agree that they do.

“What other trade goods did you find?” Dev asks.

“Ummm … not much,” Sinclair says a little sheepishly. “We were … um … busy with … other stuff.”

Seeing the disapproving looks on the other humans’ faces, he quickly adds, “But we’re doing really well in finding passengers. Looks like we’ll end up with a full house – and nearly all high class as well. Not so many of the middle-class riff …”

Sinclair promptly falls into a coma; Vgon and Rlooz having to take him to his stateroom.



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