2012 07 09 2

Tue July 9 2072 Red Rock Diner: The bespectacled and intellectual looking ork takes a drag on his cigarette. A plate of uneaten soy-bacon and eggs before him. He speaks in elliptical terms with a blonde and darkly tanned breeder in a Cal-State College T-shirt. A credstick is discreetly exchanged. "Connor, I'm surprised you're willing to lend financial support to us, all things considered." "The Community feels that this is a political win-win for us. Orks and trolls are being- and have been I might add- forced into racial genocide by the likes of Saito, not to mention Gill. In our opinion." The man shrugs. "If you say so. I've never met an ork that didn't prefer to be with his own people. But yes, I fought with a few good tusk-, er, men before we had to bivouac out of China Lake. They…..didn't make it." Connor sneers, "Your people have only begun to understand Our Struggle. Perhaps this is good for-" " - Watch your tone Connor." A tense moment passes. The breeder speaks, "Let me know when you've secured the permits for our unified protest. I'll make sure my people reach out to the refugees, no more funny business." "Yes, I have a good man working on that. We'll also need to hire for security." "Very good Connor, you're very smart for an ork. And, I have to ask- how are you getting all this money for us when you're own organization is in dire financial straits?" The ork stands up and brushes at an egg stain on his tie. "Breeder, you don't want to know these secrets of idealists." A substantial tip is left on the table.