“…not that it isn’t always a delight and a joy to see you and your, ahem, produce…”
“This is the Class 2 merchandise, you are a Class 1 customer. You must come this way to the better produce.
” In contrast to the visitor’s lighter,
possibly English sounding voice thought Captain Samantha ‘Sam’ Carter (who had subconsciously got used to most of the alien peoples that they met sounding almost Canadian),
the voice of the ‘Custodian’ that seemed to serve the dual role of Prison Governor and greengrocer was a low, loud monotone which was, regrettably, not easily ignored,
being of the right pitch and harmonic to make her sternum vibrate.
“…Yes, well, ahem, they’re lovely, really… not sure Class 2 is quite fair,
some of them…” There was a pause as the visitor stopped and evidently took some sort of scan or reading with a pen type device, or at least, that was what her best guess was,
based on the shadow she was currently watching, not being able to see the visitor or Custodian, “… I thought Tebdarans were automatically Class 1?
” asked the visitor, a slight hardness entering his tone.
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