The Alcatraz depot lounge and pub

[Doria]

Very unusual this fella Apollo. Lou had never seen an Outcast quite like him. Then again, he had never been to Malta before he joined the Rogues, but even so he usually crossed the Maltese on the Freeports around Sirius in his times before prison. But that was more than 20 years before now. The pilot before him must've been only a niño then. Maybe new generations of Maltese are more influenced by other Houses cultures. All this was crossing Crazy Lou's mind while he listened to Apollo describe his rescue in California space and his recovery on Alcatraz Medical.

While Apollo was finishing his story, Lou was finishing his smoke and his drink.

"Wait, amigo... I'll go get another drink for myself. Do you want another Ale?"

"Claro... Why not?"

"Ok then..." Lou walks to the bar. "Sam! Send a message to James and Ryvar saying Señor Apollo Venkman of the 101st Squadron is here looking for his Rogue friends..." He turns back to look at Venkman. The man sitted there looked cool on the outside, but have admitted to be facing his fears. It takes a brave man to face his fears, and an even braver man to openly admit it. "Oh, and Sam! Give me another scotch and another ale..."

A few moments later, the bartender returns with the drinks. "Message sent, sir. None of the two replied to the comms, but they will receive the message the moment they log on our neural net..."

"Thanks..." Lou grabs the drinks and starts walking back to the table. Then stops, turns around and says to the bartender: "And, Sam!" The bartender looks at him. "Yes, sir?" "Don't call me sir, please. That is for those navy @%$#%@#... My name is Lou."

He then sits back at Venkman's table. "Here is your Ale..."

"Thanks, amigo..."

"I've asked the bartender to send messages for James and Ryvar. They will soon answer."

"Well, muchas gracias for that." Venkman was very polite, while most Rogues and Outcasts are not.

"Well... I'm glad you can face that 'trauma' of yours with no problems... Your escort was very welcomed that day. Some times I have the impression that the Maltese accept us in Alpha just because we are vital for the Cardamine market in Liberty, but in reality most don't like us."

Lou looks at his spliff on the ashtray. Almost nothing left. He then pulls a little plastic bag from his pocket. "And I love the Sabre! Man, that's a good ship, never gets old... I had one like... almost 30 years ago. I called it 'Sally'. She was my personal ship. I ventured a lot on the Border Worlds, you know? Well, that was before Freeport Seven..." He opens the bag, takes a little amount of synth mary and puts it on a rolling paper. "But you sure are not here just to face your fears. There must be something else..." He rolls the joint carefully, licks the border of the paper, finishes rolling it, puts it on his lips. "Anyway, we could always use a Maltese escort in our runs, it would facilitate things a lot... We are always having trouble with those Colonial guys. They even wrecked James' last train. I know you don't like them either..." Lou grabs a lighter on his pocket. "But I guess that's not why you are here either..." Lights his cigarrete up. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

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