No retirement today

Angelo put his bare feet on the desk of his hotel suite and thought about the ending of his career, three short hours ago. Captain Khristoph had extended a hand in friendship, and of course mututal profit, but it was time for a change. At least for Angelo.

Per terms of their agreement Khristoph had paid for a week at the suite while Angelo brokered deals for the cargo they had brought in. It wasn't much and Angelo had, per the terms of their agreement, had most of his funds sent back home to his uncle. His own small portion, a dozen or so KCr, should get him started on his next venture in life.

Assuming he knew what that was. Today was something of a record for Angelo and he really didn't know what to make of it. In the closet his high boots were polished as always and his business attire was cleaned and pressed just right. Today was Day Four, and Angelo didn't know what to make of it. Here he was, lanky form wrapped up in a deep blue shower robe, bland vid screen showing something as pointless as everything else on all other thousand or so channels, and Angelo just sat.

Day Four, and Angelo just could not get his head around that. Every time they made port the terms said the ship put Angelo up in a business class suite with certain amenities. Nothing extravagant, but enough to let him work his broker magic and impress the buyers with his clout. Every hotel had to have a pool so Angelo could get his exercise. A massage parlour so he could stay mildly relaxed, and a decent cleaning crew because Angelo really disliked mess. Not that he was mental about it, but it showed class in the place and Angelo had class.