With a great yawn Jax slumps over into the cafe. Cracking his neck, he closes up to the counter and taps on the woodwork twice. "Get me a glass of Gin..."
As the bartender brings him one, he doesn't start drinking. He rather leaves the drink there, and takes a seat at one of the further tables. Lifting his feet up, a loud smack could be heard from his boots hitting the table. He wasn't wearing a uniform at the time, rather his usual clothes.
Jax took a glance around the room taking out his Data Pad, which still had his old Mercenary identification. Seeing noone interesting he started to go through it, with slight boredom in his eyes he opened the first file that came up in the archives. It was the field manual that he was trying so hard to beat. Even tho he seemed to be reading it, his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Masket goes back to the counter, looks around suspiciously to see if the other recruits are watching... and when he sees its all clear he asks for the "chief's special"
The barista nods, goes into the back and come out with a large round box and hands it to Masket. Masket goes and sits down in the corner, and opens the box. He removes a donut, four times the size of a regular donut. Its maple icing glistens in the sunlight which also reaveals that not only does the donut have fondant on top but it is glazed as well. As he bites into the fresh, warm donut the glaze cracks and flakes fall down to the table. The donuts filling oozes out, revealing that it is also filled with brandy encased in a chocolate shell within the dough.
another officer stops by his table, and drops off a pile of promotion requests which he (being completely absorbed in his donut) fails to notice. bits of fresh, warm icing and chocolatey brandy drip down onto the forms staining them and leaving them ignored and illegible.
I walk in to the Cafe and notice his fellow officers sitting at a table. I walk over to the counter and grab a coffee and Donut. I make my way towards his fellow officers and has a seat.
Greetings Ladies and Gentleman.
They all stand up and Salute! Greetings Lieutenant.
I smile and salute back. At ease. So i am sure you are all itching to get some patrol time in like i am? I'm going nuts almost without making an arrest.
He then glances at his Data Pad. Hmm and i have a person in mind as he smiles. It is not the same sitting here wile there is a massive storm going on out there. He glances out the window and noticed some odd Flashes of light.
Hmmm. That is odd. I've never seen a storm this bad Suddenly something hits the side of the Hall freaking everyone out.
What the heck was that. As I Look out the window a bright flash of light goes of almost blinding Nick.
I begin to stand up. Well Ladies and Gentleman. I have to head back to my Office that was a little startling.
Happy hunting.
He salutes and walks out of the Cafe Mumbling to himself.
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Warner Breyman walks into the bar, his cap in hand and his top button undone, and glances quickly around. A lot of people were unrecognised so he strolled up to the bar and ordered a glass of water. Straight after that he walked to an empty table and sat down, slowly slipping his drink.
Lyon Steele enters the cafe blast burns still on his uniform from a firefight shortly before.
He Approaches a nearby table sitting down with a loud thump! Clearly still shaken by the prior battle he looks around at his fellow officers, something in this causes him to feel easy again.
Quietly saying to himself 'they are why i do my job' before grabbing a coffee from a nearby pitcher and slumping into his chair in relaxation for a few moments before suddenly his communicator goes off.. All Officers Report To The New York Sector.. Rogues Are Attacking A Freight Convoy
He smiles slightly while quickly running towards the exit "no rest for the wicked" he mumbles
A young man. Ganes on the name patch. Late thirties brandishing a hard day's work enters into the popular cafe that everyone talks about. After being Taken out several times in the last 12 hours, receiving only minor cuts and scrapes and a limp he can't hide, See's an empty booth and a freshly cleaned table. The rookie pilot hobbles over to that booth. Sits. And lays down across the padded seat and insignia embroidered leather.
"15 minutes" he says. "Just 15 minutes." as he closes his eyes and a cup of fresh joe is gently placed on the wooden platform. The radio on his uniform goes off mere seconds afterward. It's back up call from his wingman, Lieutenant Steele, and he's needed once more. He signs, with his head on his hands, "Just 15 minutes..." Ganes gets up, pivoting his tired body and slides to the end of the bench. Putting one hand on the backing, the other on the table. He sees the porcelain mug from the corner of his eye and turns his head to face it at least offset. Pausing with a low subtle nod before pushing himself up and limping out the door. Leaving the cup sitting on the table, just as full as it was when the waitress placed it.
A young Kusarian officer walks in and finds a seat in the far back corner of the Cafe', folds her arms on the table and puts her head down, waiting for a waiter to get her order. A waitress appears to take her order. She orders a French Vanilla Cappuccino, and lays her head back down, exhausted from dealing with 2 Rogue Destroyers and a Hacker who is obsessed with her. She sighs " I haven't been on patrol for Five minutes before stuff happens. Can't even get back up with out having to wait 15 to 20 minutes before they get there. I could have been killed if it wasn't for the simple fact that he wanted to be 'entertained' with Capital ships. " Her Cappuccino arrives and she blows on it to cool its off. 30 minutes has passed since arriving at the Cafe' and her alarm goes off, letting her know her break is over. " Welp " she says as she gets up, leaving a nice tip for her waitress. She goes to throw her empty cup away and heads to the door, waving good bye to the Cafe' workers. " Guess its back to the patrol. Hope it stays this quiet. At least for a little while longer. "
An older Gentleman wanders in... he has been in the sun a lot somewhere as he is very tan and his skin is as leather.
His eyes have the look of someone who has seen a lot and not all of it was good.
He sits in the back corner, watching the people who wander in and out, listens to their laughter... paying particular attention to the LPI Officers.
There are those who laugh and joke, and then there are those who look like they may break. Those ones sit quietly, saying nothing, but when the call comes thru they dip into whatever well of strength and determination they have and pull themselves up and answer the call..
He polishes off the last of the Tequila he had ordered and remembers old friends... those who are with us, and those who are on Eternal Patrol....
He wanders over the the Bulletin Board where wanted posters, for sale items, various jokes and graffiti are posted, and decides to leave a message for those to wonder about in the coming days.......
"Beware of the weasels"
The older gent turns, smiles one last time, walks out, and is lost in the crowd of Humanity that inhabits Fort Bush.
Formerly known as LPI Police Chief Hull O'Brien.
Creator of Sgt. V. Price, 207th Precinct out of Chula Vista Station
Fort Bush is hopping today, Garrett Jax observed. Sergeants barked orders with an unheard-of intensity. Recruits in freshly pressed, blue Liberty uniforms jumped and immediately fast walked to their stations. Officers were huddled together in little mini meetings, whispering anxiously. Something is up, Garrett thought. These foolish mortals were hyped up more than usual.
He found some respite sitting by himself at a corner table, in Sunbucks Café, isolated from the chaos. The steam from his cup filled his senses with joy. The coffee was just as he remembered. There was no better in all of Sirius.
The doors to the café opened to let in an assorted collection of LPI’s finest. Garrett sighed as his hopes for a quiet rendezvous with his precious brew vanished with the steam. A couple officers, armed with tazers at their sides, sat at the table nearest him. It wasn’t long before he discovered the reason for all the commotion on the base. The Supermax prison, Attica, had vanished.
He could clearly hear the two officers discuss the matter. There was no sign of the prison. No debris, no wreckage, no distress signals. It was there one moment, and it was gone the second. No trace of the prison existed. No evidence could be found as to its whereabouts.
Garrett listened intently. There was only one group of entities capable of such a feat. A set of evil beings that could rearrange or erase entire planets and systems without notice or regard for life. A group of individuals that are so inherently evil, that even the Greens walk warily around them. They are the Devs.
He fondly recalled the days when he lived in the hallowed halls of the Temple of the Damned. Those were wonderful times. His fellow Greens would gather to plan their own set of misfortunes on the mortals of Sirius. They would laugh with delight at the screams of Mods when one ventured near enough for them to kick. They would toast their successes with cups filled with the tears of Zoners. Those were the days. And then it was all gone. The Temple of the Damned disappeared without a trace. Just like the Supermax prison, Attica. Those evil Devs decided it wasn’t of use to them anymore, so they waved their magic wands and made it disappear.
He remembered the anger he felt at the time. The rage. Dev heads were going to roll for that injustice. But then he discovered this little oasis. The rich aroma and smooth taste of Sunbuck’s coffee softened his rage and made him forget the pleasures he experienced at the Temple.
Garrett glanced over at the two officers. He felt a necessity to tell them what happened to their prison. But how? These mortals would never understand the complexity of their universe. Their puny minds couldn’t comprehend how fragile and temporary their existence really was. He observed the confused and lost looks on their faces. He had to tell them what happened to Attica, somehow.
After a few minutes of intense thought, he finally came up with an idea. There was no way to possibly tell them of realities beyond their understanding. He would have to show them. Let them experience those realities for themselves. Then they would know of the Devs and their evil magic. He reached deep into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box and set it on the table.
Garrett gestured toward the officers to get their attention. He said, “I know what happened to your Supermax prison, Attica.”
The eyes of the officers grew large, and they immediately walked closer to his table. They each grabbed a chair and sat down next to him. Their eyes flashed a look of suspicion. The older of the two spoke up, “Tell us what you know.”
Garrett frowned. He was beginning to question the morality of disclosing information so disturbing that it would forever alter these men and what they believed as truth. His eyes fell upon the small box at the center of the table. He sighed. There was nothing to be done now. He was committed to this course.
He met the gaze of the officers. “There are a group of beings that are more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Beings that can alter the ships you fly, the planets you live on, even the systems that connect them.”
The two officers leaned closer. “What is in that drink you have?”, they scoffed. “Public drunkenness is a crime on this station, Mister.”
“I’m not drunk,” Garrett replied. These officers were just as skeptical as he suspected. It came as no surprise. Mortal beings were always slow to accept changes to their reality. “I have proof of what I say. If you are brave enough to venture down the rabbit hole.”
He reached for the small ornate box and opened it up. Inside were two small pills, one red and one blue. He set the pills on the table in front of the officers. “I have two pills,” he said. You will have to swallow the red one to discover the answer for yourself.”
“What does the blue pill do?” the younger officer asked.
“If you take the blue pill, you will forget this conversation ever happened. You will wake up in your beds, go on with your normal lives and always wonder what happened to your Supermax prison.”
Both officers immediately stood up, their tazers out, and grabbed Garrett’s arms.
“What are you doing?” Garrett shouted.
The older officer was reaching for a pair of handcuffs, “Selling narcotics is illegal, sir. You are under arrest.”
Garrett resisted, pulling an arm free. “How dare you, you foolish mortals!” Rage flared up in his eyes. “Don’t you know who I am? I will end you.”
The officers fired up their tazers. “If you continue to resist, we will have no choice but to fry your ass.”
Garrett laughed. “You think you can hurt me with those toys? You cannot comprehend the pain…Ow, ow, ow. That hurts. Stop! You’re hurting me.” The officers took turns hitting him with bursts of electricity. Garrett lunged for the red pill. It was his only chance to escape. He lost sight of the pills but felt one of them in his hand and he quickly tossed it in his mouth. He bit down hard. Dear Igiss, he hoped he got the red pill.
The last thing Garrett remembered as he was being dragged out of Sunbucks, handcuffed, was the sight of a little red pill falling off the table and rolling across the floor. Welp, he thought. At least I’ll get a good night’s sleep out of this.