"You're a woman."
Wraith stared at Brogan.
"And you're not even white."
Stared.
"What I'm saying is, Ms. Wraith, is that your appointment as a Marshal was nothing sort of miraculous and I consider it irrefutable evidence of your dedication and skill. That you should have retired from the position is, to me, only another indication that your full worth is as yet untapped. And I believe that your journalistic endeavours will only serve to validate that suspicion."
"Are you auditioning for a column in the paper, Mirk? We don't pay by the word, I'm afraid."
He smiled.
"Not exactly. I have been, however, urged to discuss the future of your publication by the new Mayor, who sees the value in a reliable source of news for the residents of the Canyon. So much so, in fact, that he is proposing that you and your partner receive a government grant to upgrade your printing equipment and a small tax exemption to offset the cost of materials. The goal being an increase in both quality and distribution."
Wraith's eyes narrowed slightly.
Brogan continued, "Now that the drilling operations have begun it will be even more essential for Omega to have a strong, clear voice..."
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