Blood Money Bar and Medical Clinic

[Silver]

Two days afterwards, and an immense credit spending, the bar was complete.

The pole for the 'exotic dancers' that Ethan wanted so much, old Earth 20th century style booths, a small corner stage for whatever may happen when someone is drunk enough, a bar counter with a custom made shield for whenever fights were happening
(you cannot leave the bottles and the bartender unprotected) and in the middle of that, a small holder for a bottle, completely secure against everything.
Holo-screens to show off whatever was in the SiriusNews or other channel, and state-of-the-art security modules and scanners to insure that no one would try to ruin the place.

That made a lot of mouths go "What the f*** is that for?" but Kall never said why as she smiled back.

Jack O'Reilly, ex-Molly, ex-Rogue, ex-who-knows, with a lot of years in his eyes walked in and looked at Kall while she looked at the finished up bar.

"'S'cuse me, miss. Ye'r Silver?" He asked.

She turned to look at the newcomer and put out her cigar in a nearby table.
"Mr. O'Reilly. Welcome to the Blood Money."
Kall walked up to him and shook his hand.
"You come looking for a job and you're clean by our sources.
So, the counter is there, the rules ain't much, and for Reavers, booze is on the house. Any questions?"

"Yeh. Waiters? And cannae pack me trustworthy shotgun, miss?" Jack looked around.

"Five of them. And of course. What's a bartender without a piece at his hand? Stock and all will be dealt by you. Just place the orders, the Reaver Merc. Co. will pay." She smirked.

"Alrighty. T'is a deal then." He nodded to Silver and went behind the counter to start his job.

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[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop