(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/9f/Morrison.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Mason Morrison, Former Miner</span></span><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Character Sheet</div><div class="spoiler_body">Miner D8<br/></div></div><br/><br/>"You don't really figure old Clay here would let you have even a<em>drop</em>of whiskey on them fine lips of yours if he was planning on having you fly, do you, handsome?"<br/><br/>I gave the fly-boy a smile, pulled up a chair, turned it around, straddled it and leaned my arms on the top edge.<br/><br/>A waitress was right behind me.<br/><br/>"Evening, all.  Name's Morrison.  Mason Morrison.  Clay and Michal here are old friends.  Feel free to order whatever you like.  This round's on me."<br/><br/>I leaned toward Clay and pressed my cheek up against his, then stood up in my chair for a moment to reach toward Michal.  I punched the open palm she presented, then opened up my own hand up so she could slap her fist against it, too.<br/><br/>"I have a job for y'all.  It's a milk run.  Getting some medical supplies to some people in dire straits who need it badly.  As payment, you get a couple of crates of materials.  I can arrange my cargo to end up in your holds at the crack of dawn tomorrow.  After you make the trade, you have some options.  Keep the materials for your own selves, sell them off by whatever means you have available, or bring them back to me, and I'll pay you credits for the full shipment, or part of it."<br/><br/>I poured myself a shot of bourbon, gulped it down in one swallow.<br/><br/>"Any questions?"<br/><br/><br/>