Quoted By:
(posting from a different location)
The salesman takes your order unflinchingly, and you submit to a series of measurements. The cape, hat, and holster are special items, but he promises to acquire them by day’s end and have them sent to your ship before you depart. The rest, however, you can wear now. Satisfied, you leave your old clothes with the page and instruct him to remain at the store to pick up the rest of your order, and depart after paying a princely 3700 credits (with another 1000 owed when you receive the three remaining items.
All the talking, inspecting, dealing, and shopping have worked up a considerable appetite, so you decide you’re due for a meal. Although the Point has a wide variety of restaurants, you decide to avoid the fanciest of them and instead visit the Yacht. Although it wasn’t the most high-end business, its old age and elegant decor had won it a dedicated clientele, and you feel much more at home among them in your clean new outfit. Despite the overenthusiasm of the store clerk’s compliments, you have to admit that you did cut a fine figure; the clothes perfectly accented your:
>Considerable musculature.
>Exceptional height.
>Attractive features.
After being shown to your table (a large but otherwise unoccupied booth; clearly the staff recognize your importance), a waiter appears in just a few minutes.
“The ‘43, sir? Excellent choice,” he says in response to your wine order, and hurries off while you examine the vidifax menu, which was long and varied. As you had hoped, it has Forellian biscuits and Aldebaran paste, your appetizer of choice. The concentrated paste is developed from the ground innards of the planet’s scaly Bounds wolf. A potent narcotic to the natives, it serves only as a slight stimulant for humans, with a pleasant savory taste. For the main course, you decide on a complex casserole composed of Fuertan fish since it’ll be more filling.
The server returns with your bottle, and you sample the wine, a sweet fortified red. “Excellent. Tell me about the Crel fungus jelly,” you ask, pointing at the item in question.
“Limited time item,” he replies. “We don’t get consistent shipments from Regg, obviously.”
Obviously. Crel jelly was Regg’s biggest export, aside from Fleet officers. You hadn’t had the jelly since your graduation celebration at the bar. “I’ll take that at the end, then.”
“Very good, sir.” And the waiter disappears.
