A series of hollow rings reverberated through the station, the associated shaking dropping a bottle of what passed as expensive port, to the floor. In a few brief moments the noise ceased, leaving a distraught Mick staring at the remnants of his finest beverage.
Three decks below him, an embarrassed Rogue hurriedly extracted herself from the ever-so-slightly chipped Greyhound in the bay. Parked didn't seem the correct term, so much as there. There was a docking port, the ship was in it and that was all there was to say on the matter. At least, to Sarah McFarlen, as she set about putting as much distance between the Mostly Harmless and herself without drawing attention. She really didn't need another docking related incident.
Barely twenty, at a guess, Sarah hardly matched the typical Rogue line-up. Were it not for her ship, she could have been any teen-aged Manhattanite prepared for a night-out. The dress wasn't normal fare for her, the long red fabric about as far from her usual flight suit as it was possible to be. Caught between the stark dress and shoulder-length brown hair, the girl's, almost unnaturally, blue eyes seemed like the final piece in a colour-mad jigsaw. It certainly didn't help that the dress had been 'liberated' from a passing convoy (at a reasonable price, of course) and been adjusted to fit. At least she hadn't been able to get hold of heels. The engineer reflected, observing the stairs to the Drunkard.
Ten minutes later, a slightly dishevelled figure emerged into the pub, still looking as out of place as a nomad at a garden party. What sort of person walked downstairs with a knife out anyway? The walking modernist exhibition that was Sarah McFarlen moved over to the nearest table, casually ignoring the accusing glare of the bartender, still bent over his bottle.
Izzy slid into the bar, again twirling her combat knife. Her clothing the same, just a bit cleaner. She satd down at the bar, eyeing any and all new arrivals. She spotted a girl in a red dress abd smiled slightly. A dress on Barrier Gate?
"The girl in tge dress? Give her a drink on me. Its a lovely dress."
Mick looked at Izzy strangely, but complied. Izzy returned the knife to its hiding place and downed her Vodka.
//not tge best pic, but cant find the origonal. Can describe Izzy's outfit...Pic
Leon sat alone in his corner, idly examining a data-pad with a blank expression, over and over. He suddenly took a deep breath, made some inappropriate statement loudly enough for everyone to hear, downed his drink and raced out, clearly heading for his ship...
Black-haired and blue-eyed bretonian girl calmly naps, sitting on the sofa. There is an empty glass on the table in front of her, and she is apparently waiting for her order. Time to time she opens her eyes, blinks slowly, looking around and examining the visitors, - and types something on her PDA.
Julian looked up from his PDA, glancing at the girl who just entered, with a surprisingly bright dress for such a place. With a little bit of a smile, He sipped his drink, his attention taken from the PDA and now on the patrons of the quaint bar- ESPECIALLY the girl in the dress.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Izzy ignored Leon, then began to watch Julian-he was paying more attention to the patrons. Best to keep an,eye on such people. She sighed and checked her PDA. Email from Ellie...email from Jeremy...email from...Rika....
"Crazy..." She sighed.
Izzy downed her vodka. Nothing new.
Izzy turned around to pay attention to everyone in the bar-especially the rose flicking showoff and the dejected fighter pilot who probably was bored and drunk. And the girl with the dress. White suit, red dress, bored, drunk fighter pilot.
Emma entered the bar with a sigh and flicked her raven hair over her shoulder. It had been a while since she was anywhere near what passed for civilization. She cast her eyes across the bar settling on a familiar blonde.
"Fancy seeing you here," She commented plopping down next to Izzy.
"Beer please love," She commented to the bartender. She waited a moment until she had her drink. "So watcha think of the crowd?" Emma asked taking a sip.
![[Image: jeremy10.png]](http://i40.servimg.com/u/f40/16/80/35/65/jeremy10.png)
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