"Baijiu"? the barman asked. "Of course" Ben said, unslinging his holster and taking his usual seat in the Corner.
"And how did you fare today?" the barman asked, handing over the customary green bottle. Ben laughed "it would be safe to say today was interesting". He smiled to himself, the near miss with the Keepers in Omicron Kappa had been hairy, outclassed and outgunned he had barely managed to get out alive. Luck had not been on everyone's side, and the battle had not been favorable to the Corsairs.
"But we live to fight another day no?" he chuckled to the barman, and he downed his first shot.
"Did you hear, the benitez have gone?" the barman whispered, seemingly afraid... Ben shook his head... "i heard, and i saw, and if that's their will then so be it". He was angry, the pettiness of the argument between the great houses irritated him, a council dispute!? Ben shook his head, he would expect that kind of prattle from the lawyers in Liberty, and he could respect that, at least they were true to who they were, Lawyers...
But these were not lawyers, they were Corsairs.
"CORSAIRS" Ben shouted!
"er... you ok Laowai?" the barman asked, bringing another bottle, without being asked.
"yes, I'm fine. its just today our ranks became thinner over sheer pettiness... bunch of old woman arguing over a goddamn cake recipe, children"....
The barman raised an eyebrow, "what?" he said, "which old woma... .
"Never mind" Ben interrupted... "i know where my home is, i fought all my life to stand here, and here i will stand". Downing another shot he felt the liquor burn its way to his stomach... and then, to his head.. slowly working it's numbing magic.
" I spit on the council!" he said to the barman. "Elders? BAH!" The barman picked up an empty shot glass, "You don't want to go down that road" he said... Ben shook his head... "oh don't worry, I'm not going to make an issue with the high and mighty, far be it for someone such as......."
His voice trailed off, and the Barman went back to his work, feeling that Ben wanted to be alone.
Ben took another drink, The battle today had exhilarated him. his lips curled up slightly as he recollected the days events... remembering weaving between the Keeper capital ships, firing madly as he triggered the mine release. "this is a young man's game" he thought... but he had lived, and returned with a cargo hold full of captured bounty Hunters, and their credit cards, which he had already converted into credits. He loved being a Corsair, it was a simple code to him, he stood by his kin, his family, and he fought those who would harm that. Smiling to himself, he wondered of the battles to come, and come they surely would.
He looked back on the flight recorder's recording of the battle, it had been damaged by an explosion when he had lost his shields, but part of it was still intact. His scope had shown another ID: "CorrupteD", just as he had left the system. He had asked afterwards if anyone else knew this ID and had been told he was another Corsair; " One of those NA lot". He didn't really know them, and there had been some scandal involving the group, but Ben hadn't read the details. His scope clearly showed CorrupteD locked in battle with the keepers, alone, against three capital ships. Shaking his head, Ben wondered if he had lived. If he had, he decided, he would toast him the next time they met.
For a moment, his thoughts turned to his sister. She had run off with a trader some years ago, and lived an itinerant life across Sirius. He kept in touch with her through her husband, who, fearing for his life when Ben had strode into their wedding, gun in hand - made regular water shipments to Crete, and donations to the family coffers. She was fearless, his sister, and he wondered what she would say of the bickering amongst the houses. Like him, she had always been wary of them. But unlike him, she had not decided to stay on Crete.
At a table across from him, a few Corsairs sat in quiet, muted conversation. He didn't recognize them, they wore no house badge and were, like him, independent pilots, traders, Men with no real house, small families of their own. No one speaks for them, he thought, but he knew like him, tomorrow, council or no council, they would be up there.
His communicator beeped, "dammit!" he swore, he had an appointment at the commodities dealer who'd arranged security to move Ben's captured bounty hunters... Jumping up, Ben swore again.
"Whats wrong?" the barman called out....
"The blasted bounty hunters, i left them tied up in the hold!" he said as he rushed out the door.
Teresa and Julio entered the Lounge. On the way in they passed an independent corsair. His face looked familiar, was it Ben Laowai she met above Crete when she was training her fighting skills? His effort to walk in a straight line was certainly loosing the battle...
"These independents..." she said to Julio and smiled.
"Heh, sometime I believe they're the only reliable defenders of Omicron Gamma. With all the brotherhoods and families squabbling each other..."
Teresa answered: "Yeah, but let's forget about politics now, you promised to teach me how to drink that potion of yours..."
If I die, I forgive you, father. If I live we shall see.....Teresa Chavez
The large, Charred piece of metal made a loud clanging sound as it dropped onto the table, temporarily silencing the usual rowdiness of the bar. Ben Laowai sat himself down in his usual dark corner seat.
"whats that?" the barman asked... knowing, without having to be asked, that it was one of those days where a bottle of Baijiu, the noxious Kusari spirit that was Ben's drink of choice, would need to be brought straight away, and probably replaced quickly when it's contents were inevitably emptied.
"That.." said Laowai, Dropping his gun belt on the table next to the metal chunk, "is a piece of fuselage". Ben took the bottle and took a swig, the alcohol burned it's way down his throat. Kusarians need to realise that not everything has to taste like acid - laughing to himself He recalled Zavier Benitez's words over the comm system earlier that day. Before that, he had never spoken to the man, nor had he been aware that he knew Kusari drinking habits, it had surprised him.
The Barman picked up the metal, it was twisted, showing burn marks around the edges, it was obviously from something that had probably seen better days. "Fuselage?" he said, "From what?"
Ben chuckled... "from the sad mess of maintenance that is my Titan". The barman raised his eyebrows, "your Titan? what happened to it?". Ben held up a data recorder, the barman activated it's screen and raised his eyebrows again.... "wow... that's.. a mess".
"Yes, quite" Ben returned, "it was shot out from under me in that Liberty debacle today and the remains were salvaged and brought back" Holding up the bottle as a gesture of salute he continued.. "and i... was brought back on said salvage craft". He downed the drink. Then continued "it is, however, being repaired now...
There were a lot of things in various states of mess on Crete, but one thing that was not were Crete's technicians. Hundreds of years of rough survival, harsh and inhospitable space, enemies, and sheer isolation had made ship repair, manufacture and maintenance a high art on Crete. Most Corsairs tinkered themselves in some way, creating weapons, changing their ships. But the true testament to their skill lay in the fact that any ship, even barely intact, could probably be salvaged and flying again in only a short while. The Titan itself, the Corsairs most ubiquitous fighter in Omicron Gamma, was so popular that most of it's components were now prefabricated, and any pilot could be fitted with an almost as new vessel in literally days. In times of war, this had been known to be reduced to mere hours.
Earlier that day, Ben had been doing exactly that, tinkering. His Titan's major systems had been needing and overhaul for months and he had been putting it off. That morning, he had removed his missile system and after that, prophetically, his comm system.
So doing, he had missed the general alert that a flotilla of Liberty vessels had entered Omicron Gamma and proceeded to ambush the stray Corsair vessels there. He knew nothing until, plugging the comm unit back into power, his IFF switched on and a message came through on a secure Benitez Channel "LSF in orbit above Crete, Do not lift off"
His comm system suddenly became full of the frantic chatter of battle as the Corsair vessels scattered throughout Omicron Gamma and then Delta were set upon by the Liberty Force. "Is it secure to lift off?" he shouted down the comm, he had suited up in record time and was sitting in his vessel, engines running, smoke hissing out of the thermal thruster vents..
No reply came, until a frantic "They're here!" came down the line from an unidentified Corsair vessel... Ben put on his helmet and sealed the cockpit. "To hell with it" he said to himself and lifted off. To find a now empty sky....
The Liberty vessels had left Omicron Gamma and had proceeded to Omicron Delta, there to continue their work as they fell upon the unprepared and outnumbered Corsair Vessels. "Dammit this thing is too slow!!" he had yelled to no one, and at that moment he cursed the technicians that would later be his saviors, "why can someone not make an engine that is faster!" he yelled. His ship sped through Gamma, and then Kappa, avoiding the Bounty Hunter and Nomad Patrols that attempted to intercept him on the way, all the time Ben felt a helpless frustration as the chatter of battle came over the comm system, as one by one, the transponder signals of Corsair Vessels began to blink out - a sign that the vessel had either been damaged to the point of uselessness, or worse, destroyed.
"Looks like you came out of it second best" the Barman chuckled, bringing another bottle of Baijiu. By the time Ben had found the liberty fleet there was one lone Order Cruiser left in the fight, but as he closed to open fire on a Liberty fighter the Order Cruiser had erupted in flames in his view finder, temporarily blinding him. His computer signalled a missile warning and as he flicked off the decoy control he saw his scanner...one green blip, many red blips, and several, large, elongated capital ship blips. He blinked at the scanner... "oh hell..."
His was the only Corsair vessel, and he was in the middle of the Liberty flotilla. "This can not end well" he thought to himself and then laughed... so be it! "Liberty Welps!" he yelled out over the comm system and flung his fighter into the thick of it. Dodging and weaving around the Liberty dreadnought and avoiding cruiser fire, he had attempted to target the fighters, to take at least one with him. But the results were inevitable; and eventually; "EJECT, EJECT" his warning system blared out as flames filled his cockpit....
He gestured back to the metal fragment the bartender still held in his hands, "That bit of metal" he smiled, "is, i believe, part of the seat"....
"The seat!?" the barman exclaimed. Ben smiled, "yes the seat, but i can't show you my pants, they were much much worse"
The barman chuckled, " get a new seat then?" Ben raised the bottle again. "yes, i did, and a finer seat, you will not see. But those pants... well, they are probably in Liberty now" and he laughed out loud. The Baijiu now well and truly dulling his senses he stood up, "VIVA LOS CORSAIRS"! he shouted, "DEATH TO THOSE WHO WOULD COME LIGHT YEARS TO DESTROY OUR PANTS!"
A loud round of laughter filled the room, shouts of "Viva!" rang out and as drinks were downed, bottles broken. Laowai handed the metal shard to the bartender, "Put that on the wall" he said, " and when I've recovered my pants from some dead Liberty scum you can put them up there as well"
A deep rumbling echoed throughout the establishment as a large Praefect class Cruiser set down in the Starport. A bright green Benitez(CC)-Atlas could be seen along the side with Praetor Zavier Benitez, emblazoned beneath it. Technicians swarmed over the mammoth ship as it showed barely-repaired damage---One of the massive pontoons on the end of the wings had been ripped clean off, and a gaping hole where sparks stormed out of could be seen.
Several minutes after the Atlas had landed, a tall man, almost completely bald, entered the Boozer's lounge. He signalled the barkeep for two Baijiu and a Cretan spiced rum, as he headed towards the near-passed out Kusarian Corsair at the bar. The tall, bald strangers right hand could be seen in a splint as he sat down, next to the older-than-he Corsair at the bar.
The barman brought the drinks and Zavier grabbed one of the Baijiu bottles, and stood. grimacing, he declared "The Benitez have returned to Crete after this cowardly attack by the Libertonian "Security" Force, to better defend it from the likes of such cowards." He threw the drink back, and forced back a gag as the Kusarian acid-tasting drink burned his throat.
Several smaller ships--Titans mostly, but with several Praetorians mixed in-- soared through the atmosphere of Crete, with Benitez markings and insignia on their fuselages.
The Benitez ships all landed around the damaged Praefect in a near-perfect circle.
"Freelancer Alpha dash niner, this is Freeport 7 control, You are cleared for departure. Good luck out there."
Soldato Zavier Benitez, Benitez flight instructor.
Brother Sephardi sat in a dark corner, sipping his Irish Whiskey, he looked up at the Benitez as he walked in the door. "I guess this is what it means to be Benitez, to say you are leaving Crete in protest, just to return like nothing happened." Miguel called out, loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. "Out fighting in distant corners of the Galaxy, while Crete is dutifully defened by The Brotherhood. The Libertonians are of no threat to us. Your actions, that you are so proud of, just bring more enemies to our door, more enemies that The Brotherhood will have to defend Crete from. Why dont you just head back to Yaren?" Miguel stood up and moved into the middle of the bar.
Zavier exploded.
"Do not talk to me of dutiful defense! You failed when the time came, the only ship you managed to get in the air for the defense of crete--and Gamma as a whole-- was shot down less then a minute. If one ship is the best you can do to defend Crete, then you are definitely NOT worthy to defend it! We came as soon as the sensors on Yaren announced the LSF's presence in Gamma. And despite your "Dutiful" defense, eight corsair ships are now rubble, with no LSF losses!"
Zavier downed the bottle of baijiu, and snarled at Miguel.
"If you seriously want to start a civil war, do so right now. Because I will NOT tolerate ANY disrespect towards ANY Benitez, and that includes Carlos! We ALL agreed on the bloody equality unanimously, and look what bloody happened!"
Zavier stormed out, side-arm out of its holster and in his uninjured hand, as he headed towards the Atlas.
(Sorry Laowai, thought we could do something there, but it looks like Zelot pissed off the Praetor.. :unsure:)
"Freelancer Alpha dash niner, this is Freeport 7 control, You are cleared for departure. Good luck out there."
Soldato Zavier Benitez, Benitez flight instructor.
As Zavier left the bar Miguel slowly turned around, a wicked smile on his face. "See Hermono's this is how the Benitez handle a situation, we've seen it before, they yell alot, and the storm off in a huff....wait a minute, the Benitez ran off, we'd better get ready for a NovaPG attack." The bar broke out in laughter. Miguel turned back to the bar to get himself another drink.
No one noticed Costello slip in through the back entrance of the bar, he had settled right at the back where he could be left alone with his drink.
Smiling to himself he wondered if Teresa had even taken away his boozers Lounge access.
He had witnessed the Benitez little outburst and had laughed at Miguel response, the Brotherhood where in safe hands with Brothers like him in there ranks.
He stood up and started to talk.
"You see Brothers this is just another Benitez running of rather than facing the Problem."
Everyone was shocked to see Costello in the bar, in all the time he was an Elder he had never set foot in here.
"He would like to have us the Corsairs think that the Benitez are our Saviour, it comes across everytime they speak."
"He would like to think that ordinary Corsairs would be stupid enough to actually believe this rubbish, but i trust in you. You wont let the Benitez blind you with Lies and false truths."
"No we see through all that and can see the truth, and the truth is that they led those LSF dogs to our door, it was the Benitez who instigated an attack force to head to Liberty to wake an enemy that was sleeping."
"Yes they brought them here, they have made it this way then they swoop back in and claim to save the day, kind of funny isn't it?."
Turning around he nodded to Miguel just before he left the bar the same way he came.
Miguel picked up the drink, and raised it high in the air, "To Elder Costello, Where ever you go and whatever you do, may the Gods of Crete look down upon you, and may the vision of the mountains of Crete stay in your heart." He shouted, the entire bar responded by standing and simutanusly rased thier glasses in response. Miguel threw back his drink and nodded to Costello as he left.