Derek walks in to the ber on Newark to find it completely empty except for the usual drunk in the corner and the bartender at his counter.
"Eh! Bartender, where is everyone?!"
*Trading, Maybe...*
"You telling me they they rather trade then drink?!"
*Well money doesn't just grow off trees like your bank account does, Derek. People actually have to work and pay for their drinks.*
A smirk came over his face, and the bartender asks;
*So what news from the trade in Bretonia?*
"Ah, got a new group of Mollys running around Sirus all big shot like. Been laying off us for the past bit, not sure why. But it seems reputation has changed over night like everything else in this galaxy."
*Pirated again?*
"Hell no, buggers haven't been able to catch me."
*Full of yourself again?*
"Its what got me this far."
The conversation started to dim.
*Did you hear of the Coalition rampage in Cambridge?*
"Coalition rampage?"
The bartender pulls out a beer and hands in to Derek and turns on news report. With a familar face on the screen.
"Damn it, that girl can get a job anywhere."
This is Tracy Lacy reporting from the wreck of Planet Cambridge. What you see before me is the wreck of Sirus Federation as Coalition fighters raised havock infront of the Planet. And with...
"Oy, Turn it off... I don't need to see this, I'll be flying through it anyway."
*Yes, shouldn't you be out of the bar and trading again?*
Derek gives the bartender a dirty look and leaves to his Train.