20: 79-02-62

_Here I sit, in a bar.

_The day went well, I must say. Yesterday it took all the way until sunset to get to the town, so I bunked in my craft. Then in the morning, my contact woke me with a call on the computer.

_We met in here and talked.

_"So were are you from, then?" said the man. He wasn't tough looking, nor did he seem to be armed.

_"Nowhere special."

_He turned to me and leveled a stern look, "We're doing business, that means I ask you something - and you either answer or leave." A tense moment passed.

_"Dunmore. I'm from Dunmore."

_"Fine, then let's sit," and he gestured towards a back table.

_"But I don't know your name." He stopped. "Why should I trust a man who asks for my planet and not my name?"

_"Maybe that's because they aren't worth much." And he walked to the table. Once we had set down, he said, "A man doesn't lie about where he was born, unless he says where he was raised instead." A hand strayed and swept some dust off the table. "And that makes little difference."

_"Then, to business."

_"Yes. So its a government craft?"

_"Technically stolen."

_His head cocked to one side a bit, "Kinda hot..."

_"That's why I'm getting rid of it.There is a high demand for top-performance parts and craft."

_"Fine."

_Then the man seemed to wake from a daze - "Drink!"

_"No juice for me."

_"Well then I'll just treat myself," and ordered a drink.

_The conversation continued at a reasonable pace, centering around the price for which to trade and what craft would suit me. Having been out of the market for some time, I wasn't sure.

_Time to go, I'm boarding upstairs.