"I have a bit of a connection with them," Lance didn't fully commit but didn't deny it either.
He wasn't clear on what Councilman Williams meant by that—if he were too definite, it would be awkward to refuse later, but neither could he say no, as perhaps this was another opportunity.
Councilman Williams raised his glass, signaling Lance to clink with him, and after a light touch of their glasses, they each took a small sip.
The strength of the whiskey wasn't actually that high for Lance; anything below fifty percent was basically not considered liquor to him, just watered-down spirits.
However, few Federation people could face liquor over forty percent; they even called it "hard liquor" and needed to add ice.
He didn't put his glass back on the coffee table but held it in his hand, slowly rotating it, "Port work is very important, I'm getting on in years, and my memory isn't what it used to be, but I know that every day countless ships come here from all over the world."
