Samuel was awoken from a light doze by an incoming call. He stretched and yawned, then eased his office chair back to an upright position. He took a moment to glance at his tussled appearance in the screen, trying to make sure he didn’t look too dishevelled. Then he shrugged. It would have to do.
He put on a smile and answered the call.
“Samuel’s Independent Ship Sales,” he said.
A man wearing a very expensive-looking suit appeared on the vid-screen. He glared out from the display.
“You sell independent ships?” he asked, his tone sharp. Accusing.
Samuel took an instant dislike to the man, but forced the smile to stay on his face.
“No. Of course not. If I knew of any starship which was independent I’d report it for destruction immediately. I don’t want a life sentence or wor
