It was several hours of
stories and reconnection before anyone mentioned the reason they had reached
out to Dean, by the time they got around to the business at hand the restaurant
had been closed for hours. Dean moved his chair back from the table slightly. “So
how can the crew of the Womamel be of service?” He asked.
Everyone looked down the
table at Trent. “We’re bound for Cela’an.” He cut right to the chase.
Dean smiled uncomfortably. “Well
that presents something in the way of a complication.” He offered.
Alex leaned forward, placing
and elbow on the table. “What kind of complication?” She asked.
Dean cleared his throat. “Ah,
well, you see, I won the Womamel in a card game, but the original owner stole
it from the high elf ship yards the night before its maiden voyage.” He smiled
sheepishly.
