He'd expected some tall human, blond-haired, square of jaw, whose flight suit would be blazoned with dozens of unit patches, and mementoes of obscure, near-suicidal missions. She or he would be drinking in heroic fashion, perhaps yards of real Earth ale, shooting them back with raw alk boiling in dry ice. Instead there was a slender, dark-haired man, wearing old-fashioned glasses. He wore a dark blue set of coveralls, and there were no patches on it. He was drinking what appeared to be a cup of tea, and carefully reading a sheaf of printouts. "Uh� Mr. Spada?" King asked. The man rose politely. "I am he," he said. "Would you care to join me?" Jasmine introduced herself and Grok, and sat down. Grok saw a heavy bar stool that looked as if might bear his weight, lifted it over, and sat, towering over the two humans. "I must assume you're not here because you're attracted by my devilishly handsome features," Spada said. King smiled, passed a business card across. He studied it, nodded thoughtfully.
What do You think about Star Risk - 01 Star Risk, Ltd?
