Right now he was waving back and forth in his swivel chair, grinning at the gryphon anthro that had taken a seat before him. The bird and he had been friends since childhood, though while the minister (Jordan or Mr. S'aller to most people) had managed to climb the ranks to where he was today, Frank, the anthro, was still making a tough living on the surface.

"Yeah, shuddafuck up, Johdan," the bird replied, squinting one eye at the human as he removed the cigar that had been dangling, smoking lazily from his beak. "If I wanna smoke, you ain't gonna stop me. Up here things're fair an' fuckin' free, right? Right." He blew a smoke ring over the table, grinned as it disapated around the minister.

Jordan laughed. "Free, yeah, but you should respect your health, not to mention the people around you."

"What the hell? Those godamned Nitrians wreaking a' piss where evah they go, and you don't hear no godamned "get off this station ya godamned piss-bags!", and here you're pickin' on me. It's an outrage, you hear me?" Frank clicked his beak together, his furry feathers ruffling with sudden indignance. Jordan raised his hands as if fending off blows, though he was still chortling.

"Hey, hey, it's nothing personal, alright?"

"Alright. Bettah not be." the bird heaved a big breath, the spiricals (tell-tale surface 'ware if ever there was any) lining his clothing-free body creating a sort of hissing noise as air moved through them. "So. Whaddya call me all the fuckin' way up here fo'?" He plopped the cigar back into his beaked-mouth, rolling it back and forth as he folded his arms over his chest.

Jordan's laughter had subsided into a friendly grin, and now the human leaned forward in his chair. "You've heard about all of the new arrivals to Star City, haven't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Seen the fuckin' freaky dragons walkin' around like they own the fuckin' place. I seen 'em."

"Well, I've been talking to a few of their bonds, you know, just getting to know where they've come from and such, and apparently a few of them were recovered from a world called 'Mythicaleae'."

"Mytha-whatsis?" Frank squinted again. "So what'so important about this mythadooly?"

"Mythicaleae, and what's important is that the dragons that originate from it--or the ones that I've heard of, anyways, were all hunted down. They were grown when they were caught, and in some cases, bonded." Jordan's eyes sparkled with, in the bird-anthro's opion anyways-a certain degree of evil.

"I don't like that look, Johdan. Whaddya gettin' to, anyways?"

The minister grinned wider and leaned back again, swivelling a little. "You remember when we got that Inyu herding job at Royal Ranch?" He swung, back and forth, hands now folded over his own chest.

Frank remembered. Vividly. "Yeah. Godamned fuckin' biped shit-buckets, if we weren't chasin' 'em down because they were too godamned stupid to keep with the herd, we were sleeping in their godamned shit in the middle of the godamned day!" Some cinders fell from the bird's cigar, but he didn't notice.

"Exactly! And you were the best one of all of us, remember?"

"Only 'cause you damn humans were too damned lazy to get off yer asses and hunt the shitbuckets' down. Lazy bastahds."

Jordan laughed again. "Eeeexactly."

"So whaddya gettin' at, here?"

The minister looked at him more soberly. "I want you, Frank, to come back from Mythicaleae with a dragon or two. You'd excel at the job, and I know you could use the extra money in trade."

Frank removed his cigar, again, and smoke wafted from beak (as well as from the spiracles at his chest). "Who says? Okay, yeah, right, but you're gonna get me to go on a godamned safari?"

Jordan nodded.

"And you're gonna get me to round up some godamned freak-coloured dragons?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it th--"

"Wait a fuckin' minute! Are any of these things gonna try to do one of those freakin' mind-meld things with me? Because I don't want that. Demons a' my dear dead motha, I got Shitstick, and that's enough fuh me!" Frank shook his hand, and the cigar in it, at Jordan. "I don't want no extra 'sponsabilities, Johdan. Sure, money's good, but I don't want that baggage."

The Minister leaned forward again, his swinging motions stopped. "Look, Frank. I can't guarantee you won't pick something up along the way... but think of it this way. For every dragon you bring back to me, I'll give you three major modification chips. You can trade them for whatever you want. And if you do manage to bond, believe me. It's worth it."

"Nothin's worth a huge gut like that t'feed, I don't want one."

Jordan grinned, shook his head. Then paused. "Think of the flights?"

Frank froze for a second or two. Then, "Okay, when you want me t'pack up?"