Discovery Gaming Community

Byk wasn't particularly fond of Zoner stations, too many nooks to hide in, too many knives... bastions of peace? The amount of scars that Pasha had from trucking around with Katz, Broch, and Brooks had taught the Coalition veteran that Zoners were anything but peaceful.

He smoked in his bdu's watching all kinds of people saunter past him on the promenade. The bar would be opening for it's new day at some point, and he needed to talk to Lev openly and honestly...

Sighing as he waited, he pushed off of the promenade wall, walking to the small 'country kitchen' restaurant sitting opposite, taking a seat at a table, he smiled at the pretty and plump waitress, as he ordered coffee and an old fashioned fry up.

She smiled at his flirtations, whisking off to go get him his order.

Pasha had been to Freeport 14 many times before, he knew it well... back when Katz had been a mere Commander, running for Governor of Ontario. Then on Brook's many nostalgia runs past 'Dead Deer'. He'd kept an eye on a number of Coalition officers, and now it was his job to keep an eye on the junior Lieutenants that had found themselves suddenly adrift without direction, looking to Colonel Rhade as their only source of guidance.

Ling had been busying himself on the station of the last couple of days. Reports coming out of the state controlled broadcasts showed people cheering in the streets on JiangXi and Volograd. There was no resistance, no hope. It seemed that the only resistance there is, was here - on Freeport 14. He was below decks and in the process of speaking with a small arms dealer.

"I do have to ask where you got them from."
"Look pal, ye dinnae know how things work around here. Nobody will reveal any sources. Look - These are the finest small arms from Liberty. All trackers disabled, all serial numbers removed and with easy powercell reconfiguring. These gun's won't even look as though they're from Liberty anymore."

Ling looked at the man dead in the eyes.

"Fine, we also require these."

Ling produced a list of equipment, weapons, technology and rations that were needed.

"Woah, you planning on going to war?!"
"We are already in one - I need that inventory in 48hrs."
"That'll cost you."
"And it'll cost you dearly if you fail. Go."

Ling moved up to the bar. He needed to relax a bit he thought.

Andrew pulled out a datapad, and looked at the message sent from the leader of the Coalition rebels

Actually, they'll be here in less than an hour. Prepare for war.

After paying for his drinks, Andrew walked out of the bar with haste, typing in his datapad as he goes.

Rhade walked into the bar, clearly exhausted from the previous battle. Their location had been compromised by the Xenos, the Ceberus Gunboat merely laughing as Rhade's Resistance fought against the Volkhan. Even through these tough times, however, the Zoners remained at their side. Along with several other civilians, who were willing to give their lives to fight against the Volkhan.

Rhade raised his cup.

"A toast, to those we could count on no matter what." He gestured to the Zoners.

"To those that are willing to give their lives for us." He gestured towards Austin Goodman and the other Civilian Pilots.

"And to us, Comrades. For holding firm in the face of death. For not only surviving, but excelling."

Rhade downed the Vodka in his cup.

"Now, enjoy yourselves. Rest. We have a long day coming up."

She walked in last, coming late. Her head low. Somewhat shaking, weak. The guard hadn't bothered searching her sad, broken figure, and the bar counter wasn't far. The barman didn't even say a word. A bottle was ready, the smokes were waiting, all in the same corner like the last times. He pointed her that way and she only nodded in return. Rhade and her other comrades, the men who had fought alongside them, anyone else she didn't even notice. Her mind wasn't really here, relentlessly wandering back to what had happened.

[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Marx... Jackal..."

Muttering to herself she hauled her behind to her own little refuge in this bar a moment later. The glass before her didn't get any attention. The bottle of Vodka did. It didn't take a minute until half of its contents vanished down Alissa's throat, as if they could drown out the memory of what had just happened.

The Jackal, destroyed. No survivors. The Karl Marx, crippled, casualties in the... hundreds, most likely. Her comrades... former comrades... telling her to shut up and die. Shooting her. Wanting to kill her.

A more stable person would've asked herself if a firing squad wasn't the better alternative to what had just happened, but Lieutenant Kalinin wasn't one of those.

Richard Sykes rested with his head down on the bar.

Disembarking the Seeker Six One, the Zoner acolyte, a massive grin painted on his rough Houstonian features, Sykes had been excited about the future, especially for the Coalition. He believed what he had done was right. He believed that he was doing good for the first time in a long time.

He believed wrong.

When he made it to the bar - having to reluctantly surrender two pistols, a sawed-off shotgun and a Bowie knife larger than a normal man's forearms, he had checked his datapad on a whim, only to find that the engagement he had entered with the gunboat in the area had landed him in a lot of trouble. Not just him, but the entirety of the Temporary Autonomous Zoners.

In a long life of dumb calls, beginning with not dodging the draft for the Houston Voluntary Militia in the Nomad Wars, Sykes had concluded that that single engagement was the dumbest. His large, caveman-like brow sank and he cradled his head in his arms.

Several shots, and one message later, the wing leader of the force that he had fought with - Rhade, his name was, or so he had heard during the fight - raised his glass in a toast.

Sykes couldn't bring himself to raise his shot glass. As optimistic as Rhade felt about the Zoners helping out with the war, Sykes couldn't bring himself to join him in the revelry. He had destroyed faction relations with one of the most powerful underground groups in Sirius in one burst of his forward armaments, and now everyone - Doc, Joanna, Concordia - they would all pay the price for it.

He raised his glass as Rhade gestured towards him. "For Katz." He mumbled, a slight look of annoyance, and confusion, resting on his face. He slumped down in the nearby chair after the toast of victory and started to recollect himself. His holster was empty, which annoyed him a bit, finding himself in the middle of a civil war without a weapon.

People around seemed to have their heads hung low, depressed, he had saw the very thing back on the Derby when he served in the Armed Forces, low morale. How he was going to be useful here, he didn't know. Nor frankly did he care. Envoy to Bretonia perhaps? He doubted it, moment word reaches Bretonia and Admiral Ralston that he was helping the Coalition, everything would turn to hell once more, worst of all. He still wanted his damn side arm.

He downed the shot, Vodka, something he found disgusting, and with a hesitant look, reached into his pocket pulling out the Carina's Cross, then dropping it on the table.

"Someone mind telling me, the entire damn story." He said, loudly, slamming the glass down. "You know, start to finish. Without the edited crap. If I'm going to be onboard, I need to be aware of everything."

Gidardet made his way to the bar. He was exhausted after the fight, but he was not happy. He sat down at an empty table, and was silent... The war touched him, it seems.

Shooting at his own comraders, who wouldn't hate that. Jean kept thinking of the Fox and the Rabbit tale. Appereantly, he needs someone to talk with...

Rhade sighed. Truthfully, Rhade was just as depressed as the others. But, they looked up to him, and he had to be strong. For all their sakes. With the toast done, he looked around the room. Spotting a very depressed Alissa, Rhade headed over to her table, sitting down beside her.

Rhade knew this was hard for her. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

Gidardet noticed Alissa aswell, and decided to join them.
"Don't worry. I feel the same aswell." He sighed, and looked at them.
"Especially, when I fight for something more, than just Katz."