The bar Mirar had chosen lay close to the least likely place for a smugling den on his list, a small house with its own landing pad lying by the main road.
The bar also had the nice benefit of being a popular place for off duty soldiers. All in all, Mirar enjoyed himself. The alchohol was cheap, strong, and tasty, and before long he had forgotten his own name.
"Nufink to repart cap, tho I'm lookeyng if any suchi, shasi, shuperstishious things 'n people comes out." Why couldn't the damned ground lie still?
"M, if you value your life swallow the the green goo from your med kit, the com is getting jumpy and he wants to make sure everyone is doing their best"
What was he that thing about jumping about? Though he saw no reason not to eat the goo, provided he managed to get it out. Three needle stings, two smashed vials, one unconsious patron and half a bilion curses later he finaly managed to swallow the goo. Feeling his mind clearing, he flicked his com.
"Thank you, though I wonder why they use precious space in the med kit, for a cure for drunkness"
"Because we know what you grunts are likely to die from. Now listen up, the com has sent some guys to make sure we are working hard enough, some are aproching where you are, so get creative"
"Got any ideas? I can't really see anything usefull for me to do." He was getting desperate, getting caught for skipping work had only a few punishments, none of them soft. Looking up he saw a trio moving towards the building he was "watching". The one who apeared to be the leader, wore a rather unusual white robe. Mirar got up, and started walking slowly towards the building, hoping neither the trio or the com's guards noticed.