Matt throws his pilot's bag into his metal locker, he takes out the latest piece of bounty - a bottle of the clearest coalition vodka
"Couldn'ae believe ye were floatin' around in space!"
Matt packs it into his leather jacket, then heads out of his SLAM room and down towards the bar. Upon entering the bar, the place is nearly empty. Save a few Ensigns and Rookies. Matt take's his usual seat in the corner and throw's his jacket down under the table. He goes up to the bar and orders himself a beer, and put's an interesting tune on the jukebox, he check's his watch
"Better be a good night, We've got tha' tools fer it.. We've downed plenty of bad-guys tha' day, and Maximo is gonna end up pukin' in tha' loo's tanight!"
He sit's and waits for the others to arrive, he daydreams slightly - and hopes that Angelina may be here tonight as well