All the King's Men

[Tenacity]

At the core of the bustling Dijon spaceport lies the largest tavern within the Gallic Borderworlds, serving as an off duty source of relaxation and entertainment for pilots and officers of the Gallic Royal Police and Navy, as well as employees of the various Gallic Corporations.

The Bar is dimly lit, filled with a light haze of tobacco smoke and the bittersweet smell of wine. Entertainers, ranging from comical mimes to scantily clad dancing women, and even the occasional jester, occupy various points around the large room.

Occasional dealings between agents of the Unione Corse and Royal Police are undertaken in the tavern, but are kept to the darkened corners most covered by the haze, always weary of the watchful eyes of naval pilots; despite the fact that most of them are too intoxicated to pay any attention to such illicit actions.

---

[Lanakov]

A tall man with a well cut beard entered Dijon's bar.He was wearing the traditional navy uniform,with the letters "CDT. Corentin Chasnial" embroidered on the vest.He walked slowly but proudly to the bartender.

Garcon,s'il vous plait, a glass of Bourgogne Grand Cru and a sirloin.Not too cooked,as usual.

The bartender silently took his order,smiled to him and headed for the kitchen.
Chasnial left the bar for a table close to the bay.
There wasn't much crowd in Burgundy those days...The war moved the people,and strangers were reluctant to advance further in Gallia after the first encounters with the navy.

Waiting for his meal,he looked at the system.Wrecks,graves,and behind,a magnificent scenery of stars and nebulae.



The waiter brought him a piece of meat soaking in a brown sauce,along with perfectly toasted french fries.
The plate smelled great,and Chasnial closed his eyes for a second.

He was lucky to sit here after all,and many of his comrades did not have his luck since the second war had broke out.
The loudspeakers played a sweet fiddle music,which made Chasnial remember about the cries of those mothers who were deprived of a son,of those new widows he had to inform of their own tragedy.

Fighting his sorrow,he appreciated every bit of his meal as if it was the last one.
Today,he had been busy with helping a fellow rookie policeman with the paperwork,still complicated even in times of war and need.

Sipping the last drops of his wine,he watched the space again.

Reading the front reports,he decided to stay in Dijon for a bit.
The day would be calm,and he expected more officers to meet him in the bar.

Here I am,dear King.Serving your greatness by sipping a Bourgogne.

He looked at one of the doors.Someone was arriving.

---

Feedback, insults, marriage proposals and declarations of fealty

If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.

[cobraSting]

Commander Leon Zidane of the Royal Navy perked up from his slouch in the corner. His instincts were telling him that something was about to happen...

[Captain]

in the with smoke filled room and on some places dust
was a place created that actualy looked clean however
it was reserved for one of the largest corperations in the entire gallic nation

the carson walks to the tables after the captains and crew of 3 massive Gallic trains
sat down at the tables,

Monsieur's it is a honour to have you here again, you are such good geusts around here
says the carson with a grand smile,what shall it be this time?

a small lunch with vin rouge for all of us, oui monsieur, we shall serve it in a moment,
here is your wine monsieurs, -shows etiquette of the bottle-, wonderfull new get enough bottles
my men are thirsty oui monsieur, we shall bring it at once


--a half hour later--

the crew nearly finished their lunch and the bottles were empty,
alright, when we are finished we continue our routes
as usual, Vive le Roy-while holding up the last glass of whine-
the crew shouts the same,

---