Well, if Trowa wanted to scrap Heavyarms, he was set for life. But that was out of the question. Interesting, though, that there wasn't a set currency-- and entirely unhelpful. He couldn't think of many places in the colonies OR the earthsphere that didn't follow the same standard currency, much less work on a barter system.
"I can do that."
Giant white dog-- no, wolf-- in the doorway, staring at him and sniffing the air. A wolf with that shaggy a coat on a tropical island?