Benjamin Eppstein, more commonly known as Old Eppy, leisurely strolled into the Ship Inn 'round five o'clock after unloading his, ah, cargo on Manhattan, wiping the ice crystals off of his shoes as he went...bloody docking probe's heating unit was malfunctioning again. Unbuttoning his black greatcoat as he went he slid onto one of the stools, patiently waiting for Sophie to finish with the Newark yuppie three stools down as he pulled out his neural net card and popped open the morning's paper, flipping to the Ships and Hardware adds. The Cash Cow was running herself, Gary was doing a good job captaining her and he could leave her for longer stretches of time now. He'd been looking into getting himself a smaller, more mobile craft for some excitement...
"Mhm." He looked up. Sophie had arrived.
"A pint of Maltese Ale, with the Cardamine extract, if you happen to have a barrel of that somewhere in the back, dear." he gave his best crinkled old-man smile, brushing a wisp of grey hair out of his face. She smiled knowingly and headed through the narrow door at the far end of the bar, returning forty-five seconds later with a clear mug of the requested refreshment as Eppstein looked back down at the adds. He was wavering somewhere in between this brand new Borderworlds Transport and this lightly used Behemoth. Sleek style and low cross-section versus rugged, industrial efficiency...he concluded that the ale might help him decide, and tossed back a good quarter of the glass. Another look after a second gulp provided little guidance...
Quote:Quick comment - we thought that Panzer was the Leader, Swift. -Agmen
