Another Day, Another Mission, Another Dollar

By Amanda Wilcoxen

Lt. Trent entered "Molithauv's" and let out a short sigh as his hazel-green eyes looked around, observing. His attire consisted of tan pants, belt, calf-hi brown leather boots, and a matching long sleeve top under a brown leather jacket. He had medium light/sandy brown hair, which he ran his hand through briefly before he finally spotted Keith. Shaking his head slightly, he moved over to where the blonde man was sitting, looking through the menu.

"I thought I told you to meet me at the ship," Trent' gravelly voice growled lowly.

"I got hungry," Keith said in defense.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I hope you're buying breakfast."


"Good." Trent grinned as a waitress came. He orded an ale while Keith ordered something more subtle; coffee. His eyes swept around the cantina once more as the waitress left before looking at the younger man.

"I can't believe we're doing police work here," Keith sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

"Yeah. Well, you ever know what'll happen right, kid?"

"Don't you *ever* get tired of "kid"?"

Trent looked as if he actually gave it any thought, then, "No...why should I?"

The waitress came back with the drinks and they ordered some food as Keith took out a small datapad. "We've only been here for two hours and I hate it already."


Keith looked around before leaning in slightly and his voice lowered slightly, "The reason I didn't meet you at the ship is because I met with our contact. They said that a deal of some sort might be going on around this area, if not in here."

"Ahh. Great." He took a swig of his ale and grinned faintly as he leaned back against the back padding of the chair.

He had been running back to back missions for a straight week with no breaks, and he just hoped this wasn't going to be a dull one like the last one he had just completed.

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