The wafting sound was unmistakeable, there was clearly a bar on the station. He wandered through narrow hallways until arriving, at what looked like, converted storage tanks. Some big guy was standing on a tabletop talking to everyone before stepping down. The audience was gathered in small groups talking among themselves. Several stopped talking and looked at him as he entered.
"Typical", he thought. "But not unexpected. I'm the foreigner here."
He ignored their penetrating eyes, walked to the bar and perched himself on a stool. Two guys in the first booth were talking way too much.
"So Liberty Navy, after finding the base, threaten to blow it up unless the licensing fee is paid. We offer to pay it, and now the Navy looks like idiots, 'cause they just approved an outlaw base."
"Shh, keep your voice down, someone might hear you," the second second guy urged.
"Screw you, that's funny," the drunk exclaimed, chugging back another ale. "Liberty Navy - protecting the colonies as slum lords."
They both laughed, and even I had to smile at the irony.
The conversations got quieter, and eventually impossible to eavesdrop upon. The pager in my pocket went off. The loading bay was signalling the ship was now empty. I headed out while the crowds were still in session.
Follow the adventures of an Australian author marooned in America.
