Lieutenant Kentaurus Toliman unbuttoned the top collar button on his flight suit as he approached the doors of the Bar & Grill. He had heard good stories about this place from his fellow pilots and had was looking forward to sitting down and unwinding after a long day of patrols. As he grabbed the door handle, he sighed to relieve some stress he had accumulated over the past hours. As the door swung outward, a cool breeze from inside rushed out. The smell of steak, grilled onions, and other delicious fragrances wafted out of the establishment. Inside the room was dimly lit, yet inviting, as if offering one to relax and forget about things for a while.
All along the left wall were pictures and snapshots of parties and frequent patrons. Also included in the mix were shots of ships on their maiden voyage and spectacular shots of combat and peace time formations. On the right wall, past the bar, hung the portraits of fallen or missing pilots. Each person smiling brightly. Underneath each picture was a small plaque with their name, years in service, and how they died or went missing.
Toliman walked over to one of the portraits.
Ensign Henry Archer
Liberty Navy - 10 Months
Missing In Action - Routine patrol mission
Archer had been Toliman's wing-man during flight training. While during on of their training missions, they received a distress signal from an area near Zone-21. Holding out for reinforcements, Archer's Guardian was hit by an enemy missile, disabling his engines. Later, his fighter was found drifting near the mine field, the escape pod launched, however there was no sign of it.
"Sad when young pilots die, eh?" said the bartender.
Still looking at the portrait, Toliman responded absentmindely, "Yeah."
"Well, they gave their lives so that others may live. Can't let them die in vain can we?"
Toliman smiled, "Too true."
"That's the spirit Lieutenant. So then, what will it be?"