Tony stands up from his seat, wandering over to the bar again. His eyes roll over the selection, before he points at a standard Liberty ale. "Gimme a pint, and open a tab. Also, turn something on the news worth watchin, huh?" Ristar's wink added on to the smugness of his grin, his right hand depositing a few credits on the bartop. He turns away for a brief moment, seemingly caught up in fascinations about himself.
Araevin heard Dexter before he saw him, knowing his tell tale jingle. He saw him walk up to the bar and order a drink, unsure of what kind. He waved him over, hoping he would join them, but looking pleased with sitting at the bar with his pipe.
Araevin really did owe this man his life, and for that very same reason Dexter ate and drank for free on Trenton. He also watched as Ristar walked in such a self sure manner, like he was the stuff and silently chuckled to himself.
He continued to eat his breakfast, finally picking up the datapad and looking at it, LPI stock had decreased. It made him wonder why.
Dexter always had the same thing for breakfast...a short checklist that the bar-attendants always went through whenever he entered the establishment.
Take his Jacket at the door [X]
Don't say anything about his Revolver [X]
Glass of Cambridge Brandy, exactly 3 ice cubes [X]
Bread, Fried in Fat-Back [ ]
...uh oh.
A smirk directed at the waitress prompted quick action and the meal was quickly prepared.
He had noticed the President's gesture, and by making a gesture of his own; the plate of still sizzling food was set down at the empty spot on the table next to where Araevin was seated.
Dexter was always very deliberate with movement, never jerky or hurried, but calm and collected, which meant that he stood next to the table right as the bread ceased to sizzle, hat in one hand, pipe in the other, and a grateful smile on his face.
"Good Morning, Mr. President.", he said quietly, following it with a polite nod to Danielle, "Ma'am. May I sit with y'all?"
He awaited a reply from both before taking any further initiative.
Shane walked in from the docking bays access corridor, running his fingers through his short, dark hair to fix what the helmet had done to it, and inhaled the murky air of the bar. Lovely, he thought, glancing around at the patrons sitting at tables or leaning against the bar, lit by screens displaying a variety of entertainment streaming in from the net. The scent of tobacco, booze, and beer was always a welcome experience after a security department shift in the vacuum.
He recognized one of the newest recruits, a man named Tony... Tony Ristar, if he recalled correctly, and snuck up behind him to give him a slap on the back. "Good work out there, recruit; we didn't rid New York of piracy for good, or anything..." He grinned as Tony cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked, "But we gave 'em a run for their money, eh? Even took a couple of 'em down while we were at it." Tony nodded and looked away, nursing a beer. "Seriously, man," Shane pressed, "We tangled with some bad mother truckers out there, and we came back in one piece. So did the pres', and his barge- that's big stuff, man! I'm proud o' ya. Glad to have ya aboard. Lemme buy ya a beer." The bartender apparently heard at least this last remark, and walked over.
"What can I get for ya?" The tender asked, running a towel across the bar; the living epitome of bartender stereotypes.
Shane leaned against the bar as the bartender approached, strained in order to hear what he said, and replied, "Dublin stout for me, and whatever he's havin'. In fact, get everybody one of what they're havin', on me. I got a promotion." He grinned broadly, showing his large, straight teeth, and gestured to his fancy new name tag.
The bartender shrugged indifferently and said, "Cash or credit?"
Why don't they ever recognize me? Shane thought, somewhat dismayed, as he pulled out his credit card and I.D.. As the bartender pocketed the card and set about pouring all the drinks, Shane glanced to the table where Dexter, Araevin, and Danielle sat. They seemed content enough with their conversation at the moment; he figured he'd wait til the free drinks showed up to go have a seat.
He wondered what the other employees were up to. He'd heard Hoban was dealing with a big storm planet-side, but wasn't sure about the rest. I'd better start keeping closer tabs on everyone, he thought, thumbing the new name tag.
Shouldn't of missed so much. Something was wrong, that ship was everywhere at once. I should've had him.
Tony's thoughts filled his mind, distracting him as Shane spoke. He responded with a "Yeah yeah" half-heartedly believing the man. His eyes were half zoned out, and he finally snapped to it as the bartender came over.
"There was something funny about that pirate. His ship, it was everywhere at once. He couldn't miss. I haven't ever fought something like that." Tony's lips twisted, uncertainty etching at his heavy mountain of self confidence. "I'll get'em next time. Won't leave'em to a smaller, less deadly enemy. I'm gonna turn'em all into junker scrap."
He brought the rest of his ale up to his lips, draining it quickly and slamming the empty glass down roughly, rim first on the counter.
"And you did a fine job, yaself. And yeah, that barge? That frackin thing shoulda just ran that one guy OVER." His smirk took over once more, the familar smugness returning as he patted his holstered blaster for comfort, waiting for his next drink. "Good to have you on my wing."
Araevin took Dexter's hand firmly, and pointed him to a seat next to himself.
"Hey Dex, how ya doing today?" With that Danielle got up and left without a word, obviously busy with other matters.
He waved good by, sad, she didn't look half bad, too bad she was so obsessed with her work.
He turned his attention to Shane, and began to wonder if there was enough table for everyone. "Hey Shane, you should take a seat too!"
"'Course theres one for me, too!" Tony exclaimed, swaggering over and plopping down next to the president. He casts a playful wink, adjusting his holster before sipping from his fresh ale.
His good demeanor was interrupted by the sound of his comm going off, and as soon as he accepted the call a woman speaking--no, screaming with a rheinlander accent can be heard. Tony's lips pull apart into a wide, smug as can be grin as he merely hangs right back up, laughing to himself in front of his coworkers.
Shane followed the waitress from the bar to the table where Araevin, Tony, and Dexter were seated. Watching as the waitress took the drinks from the tray in her hand and placed them before each man sitting at the table, Shane grinned and said, "Have one on me, boys! Courtesy of your new Senior Cadet." He pulled out the empty chair and sat carefully, so as not to spill the foam of his dark beverage. He cocked his head to the side and tried to keep the foam from spilling on his flight suit. "No fruity drinks allowed, though. Just manly drinks like mine and Dexter's," He taunted, grinning.
Holding the frosty mug in his left hand, he raised it in salute to Dexter, who nodded and raised his glass of brandy ever-so-slightly, the hint of a smile beneath his bushy mustache. As Shane relaxed into his chair and took a drink, his jacket fell open, revealing the worn grip of an old semi-auto pistol in a shoulder holster to the more observant of the bar's patrons.
Shane lipped the foam from his mustache, and said, "You see me tangle with that outcast earlier? I thought he was gonna scrap my wasupu in front'a Trenton... that woulda been embarrassing..." He laughed good-naturedly, but inwardly he was surprised by the level of the pilot's skill. A careless mistake on the other pilot's part ended the dogfight sooner than expected... but, he was confident the outcome would have been the same, regardless.
From the sudden and inexplicable departure of Danielle came an equal and opposite reaction that diminished throughout the body as it reached one of Dexter's eyebrows, causing it to tilt upward ever so slightly.
Said eyebrow would remain quirked throughout the next couple of minutes as he contemplated the reasoning.
This looks...very strange, though Dexter was hardly your normal businessman, to the contrary he was quite eccentric. A polite nod here and the subtle raise of the glass there, he pretty much remained quiet until addressed by the President.
"Ohh..I s'pose I've been fine. Busy, 'lotta work to catch up on but I'm sure of a good outcome. Reckon the hardest thing has been gettin' used to new technology..the insurance paid off on the destruction of The Clackamas....and I'll miss'er..maybe not as much as Delilah will, but oh well. " He promptly offers a half-smile, a quiet chuckle, and sips from his glass, again going quiet to let the others talk and take in his surroundings.
![[Image: rendarpit2.jpg]](http://img714.imageshack.us/img714/977/rendarpit2.jpg)
