Isabelle listened to the announcement with disgust, as she drank from the ale.
"Great, we really needed these idiots doing some random manifestations, whining about getting shot for disrupting trade lanes... at that rate we'll believe it's a f-... err, conspiracy to raise the prices..."
She turned to get a better look at the man sitting next to her, the lane security pilot.
"Say, at that rate you won't be able to fly for quite a long while eh?"
The smell of food being prepared in the bar made her hungry, and she ordered a New York steak. Finally some fine food after the dull kitchen aboard her dreadnaught...