Freeport 10 - Printable Version

Freeport 10 - Printable Version

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Freeport 10 - Howard10 - 12-10-2010

[font=Arial Narrow]Ken Neilson had brought his property a long, long time ago. He had signed on the dotted line to officiate the transfer of assets from the previous owner to himself back in the long passed era of 795 AS. He was proud of hanging on to his business for so long, and hoped that some day his sons would follow him into running it. His dream was that in generations to come, it would still be 'Neilson's Bar', handed down from father to son through the years.

For now however, there were more pressing concerns. As the foremost culinary establishment on the station, he received most of the passing trade as the de facto 'pilots bar'. He also gave a 25% discount to those pilots registered as the Freeport's residents. He hoped this would see him through to retirement. The business plan was sound. He straightened his traditional yet simplistic Zoner garb and looked towards the door. Now it just fell to seeing who would walk through the door.

Which someone promptly did.

Freeport 10 - Chrysalis - 12-10-2010

Aksel Goldstein decided to visit this pilots bar, he had heard so much about from Howard, and he was getting hungry too... He sat in a croner and waited to be served.

Freeport 10 - Ash - 12-16-2010

A man wearing a grey attire walks in and takes a standing place at the bar.

He turns his head and raises an eyebrow after realising how empty the bar seemed to be. Apart from two staff he could see there was one other patron who seemed to have dosed off in one of the corner booths. John nodded his head in acceptance of this weirdly baron room and waited for the tender to come over to him.

"Drink?"

Said the bartender

"Please"

John said and nodded to the bottle of shrapnel up on the back wall.

The tender popped open the bottle and accurately poured out a single measure of whisky in one movement. The tender turned his head to see at john nod and he poured out second measure.

John scanned a card over the neural net scanner to his left.

"Open up a tab"

He said and took the drink to a nearby table just across the bar and set it down. He took a moment to admire the modern sheekness of the bar around him and revelled in the news hologram programmed into his table. He tapped a few fingers here and there on it's surface and a large translucent cube shot up and hovered over the table, slowly rotating. A few more taps and the cube shrunk and reformed into a holographic newspaper set down in front of john on the table.

John took a sip from his glass and began turning the pages of the paper for something interesting.

Freeport 10 - Ash - 12-18-2010

A while passed. The man who had been slumbering in the corner was now out for the count, and the staff looked bored stiff re-cleaning the glasses they'd wiped minutes ago.

There wasn't an opportunity to be had here at the best of times, and he began to wonder if he'd stumbled into an off-peak nightclub. He waved his hand over the hologram and the news paper sank into the table.

He stood up, buttoned his waistcoat and looked over to the bartender.

"Cash the tab, and take something for yourself"

To which the bartender nodded in thanks. At that moment John stepped outside, looked up and down the street and walked off to the left in search for some place else.

Freeport 10 - Howard10 - 12-18-2010

Howard Lovecrepe walked through the door with shadows under his eyes. He'd been burning the candle at both ends lately. That's what his mother would have said. He'd just got out of a meeting with the members of Station Hall about the intricacies of establishing a local set of No-Fire Zone rules. They were having to juggle the reaction of local factions and external reaction of other more central Zoner groups against the benefits they themselves would reap by tailoring their own laws to the station's specific needs. The meeting had been inconclusive, as normal. Moving down the corridor towards the door, he passed a man in a grey suit. He nodded a greeting, then went inside.

Flashing a wan smile at the proprietor, he walked over to say hello. "G-Good afternoon Ken. How's b-business been?" Ken simply shrugged his expansive shoulders.

"Not too good Mr Lovecrepe. We've been working the graveyard shift for days now." A small twinkle of mirth suddenly lit his eyes. "Not that I'm condoning drink-flying or nothing, but you need to get your pilots down here more often." Howard chuckled to himself.

"They d-don't work for me, Ken. We're a-all equals here. If a-anything, I'm j-just the banner th-that rallied people t-together in the f-first place. We all work for '10, no-one e-else." There was a pause for a moment. "I will t-take an orange juice and a synth-steak though."

Ken grinned. "Right you are bossman. 'Bout time we got the kitchens going. Take a number and we'll have it out to you in a moment." Howard nodded his thanks, took a ticket and went to find a booth to sit at. Ken hurried into the kitchen, bawling at the hired help to fire up the cookers. Massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers, Howard finally relaxed.

Freeport 10 - Chrysalis - 02-05-2011

Aksel sat in his corner with a look of man that's longing for something, something that's been a part of his life for a long time - but is now gone. He steadily moves his hand into his shirt pocket and pulls out something that is looking like a pack of cigarettes. He chooses one, puts it in his mouth and lights it slowly. He inhales the sweet smoke for some long seconds and then exhales with the same slow pace. He's just taking it easy, when he hears his stomach making an angry noise. He remembers that he has some credits that are burning a hole in his pocket and walks to the bartender saying: "Herr Ken. I would like some beef flavored Synth Paste and some Ale - of any kind..." He taps the Bartender's shoulder and makes a slight smile. He returns to his spot and waits for Ken to bring him that stuff to appease his appetite.

Freeport 10 - AngelOfIron - 05-13-2011

Lieutenant Leonard James Howlett felt out of place to say the least as he stepped into the bar. He'd seen his fair share of taverns in his life, before and after he had joined Liberty's navy, but there was something about this one, a Freeport bar, that gave him an awkward sense of -- was that nostalgia? He had hoped that the message he received in response to his original outgoing communication to Nitchiev Lanakov was part of some sort of secret code. 'I mean why else would an ice cream parlor tell me to come all the way out here?' He tugged the collar on his navy blue trench coat up around his neck, hoping to look a bit less conspicuous but achieving the complete opposite effect. The bartender noticed this and merely chuckled at him. "Your appointment ain't here yet," Ken said after catching Howlett's eyes with a jerk of the head. "But he said you can wait in the booth over there. All expenses have been covered. But I'm sure you already knew that." Howlett bristled. "Do you know who I am?" Ken eyed him up and down and arched an eyebrow. "No?" "Oh." "So, what'll it be?" Leonard had to mull that over for a moment. "Would you laugh at me if I asked for a virgin shirley temple?" "Yeah, but I'll serve it to you anyway." "One of those then, if you'd be so kind."

Freeport 10 - Lanakov - 05-13-2011

Entering the bar in a tuxedo, Captain Nitchiev Lanakov seriously wondered if all that show was really necessary. But faced with direct orders, he'd had no choice but to comply and imagine a whole cover-up in order to secure an interview with that Lieutenant he'd met several days before. Judging by the stakes, however, Lanakov decided he could tolerate some comedic beating around the bush... For once.

Walking up to the bartender, he greeted him with a nod and thanked him.
"Looks like you managed to keep our honored customer around. Good work. Now get me a Martini Rosso."
Glass in hand, he went to sit just in front of the contact he had worked so hard to meet here. Clearing his throat, he naturally asked ;
"So, mister Howlett, how was your trip ?"

Freeport 10 - AngelOfIron - 05-13-2011

(For a picture of Leonard please click here, and then here for a picture of what it is he's presently wearing.)

Howlett turned his attention away from the window to address the late arrival. But as soon as his eyes settled upon the tuxedo, he paused. And then he chuckled. "I guess the old Earth British spy look is universal for folks wishing to have a non-discreet meeting," Howlett said and then gestured to the seat across from him. "Either that or one of us has a truly eccentric taste in casual attire. But then again," he thought aloud. "The acting captain of the Tempe tends to literally lounge around in his chair wearing the kind of clothing that you would expect to see tourists wandering about in on some beach resort; sandals, sunglasses and all. That was a clever trick with the broadcast, by the way. It took me a few minutes to realize that I actually hadn't sent my original message to the wrong recipient. I must admit that your skills in communications tampering might even be on par with that of a seasoned Lane Hacker."

Freeport 10 - Lanakov - 05-13-2011

Lanakov brushed some dust off of his shoulder before taking a sip of his dark red drink.
"Well" he said, putting the glass back on the table, "I guess old habits die hard. The tuxedo is a tool I've been using since the beginning of my career, and it has probably saved my life more often that did any form of training. People don't suspect someone in a tuxedo. It attracts attention, yes, but not suspicion. If you stand out from the crowd, people will remark you. If you try to blend in the crowd, and get eventually spotted, then you're in real trouble. See the differences ?"

He took a longer sip.
"Though I'll grant you that being a militant for equality doesn't prevent me from being somewhat fashionable. Although being centuries old, the tuxedo does maintain a certain appeal to the finest of ladies. I'd have gladly shown you, but..."
He gestures towards the whole bar. "Let us say the opportunities of doing so are lacking."
Allowing himself to a brief laughter, he continued on the same regular pace, as if his speech consisted of one constant flow, like that of a peaceful river.
"I'm quite proud that my little ruse did somewhat confuse you. It was meant to outsmart your superiors, and I assume it did, as even you did give it a thought. Although I'm even happier that you did follow suit ; The contrary would have been most unpleasant. Consider it a first test, proving your smartness. It succeeded. You see, in my line of work, that kind of ruse is somewhat essential. We can't take the risk of being fooled by our opponents ; hence that Ice Cream story."

He searched through his inner pocket while still adressing the lt.
"We have a lot to discuss. Probably a man of your elegance would appreciate doing so, with the help of this..."
He produced a handpainted cigar box from his suit, opened it and handed a long, yet rather thin brown stick to the Lieutenant.
"Working for the Coalition has a lot of advantages. A firm attachment to Earth traditions is indeed one of them."