<div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/2d/a3/df/2da3df0e60fb0935c2051853025e6ad3.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;">Samson Castle</span></span></strong>,<em>Captain of the Man's Ruin </em><br/>2519, present day<br/>Mason Kincaid's Home, Southdown Hills, Persephone<br/>Wearing - Suit (http://images.bharatplaza.com/catalog/product/cache/1/image/900x1194/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/s/9/s9520n.jpg), Black Dress Boots and a cane (with sword inside).<br/>Location - Mason's parlour<br/>Tagging - Mason<hr/><br/>"Some?" He asked with a slight chuckle. "How many of your new rich friends know the true Mason Kincaid?" He added as he helped himself to another finger (or three) of whiskey. Samson was just poking a little fun, he was sure everyone around him was just an overpaid 'yesman' nowadays.<br/><br/>The kidding was set aside as word of a job came up. For all the liquor routes he held on some planets it was never enough. Sure some of the money was set aside for his retirement but for the most part he lived job to job. With the Man's Ruin falling apart and the new crew, he needed a pay day to stay afloat or end up grounded. "So you are subcontracting now? Smart way to keep your  hands from getting dirty." He said before he listened to the details.<br/><br/>New tech, that normally meant weapon. People always were looking for new ways to kill one another, no one ever hired a smuggler to steal a new plow to harvest a world. There was no room for morality on jobs, most of the time. Off course if Mason's contact was truly vile then he would not be calling Samson. While he was no law, he also was not cold blooded like other smugglers on the rim. "Do I need to find him? Or are you doing the introductions?"