"Hmm... I think i saw a convoy on my way here, bearing the Bowex IFF." Msyu ponders for a second before continuing. "We were told to assist them should they need it if it wont endanger our mission should we have one."
A cup of tea on the table catches her eye. Obviously wondering when it got there she take a sip."You see... They mark us as pirates. Well, we are pirates. Its easier to live of the work of your enemies than your own but we dont pirate out of enjoyment. Its not our main goal. Should the trade ship captain be polite and reasonable... We tend to let people like that go." She looks into the tea and lets out another chuckle. "Some people on the other hand... There was this captain that kept making sexist jokes while staring down at least three torpedo launch tubes..."
"Dealing with strange traders is part of my job too. You wouldn't believe the number who try to hide on our stations or even the planets, just to walk straight into the arms of the officers on the ground! Thankfully I don't have to torpedo quite so many of them, but it happens for the worst ones."
Finishing off his own tea, he admitted
"And it does seem as thought the Crown is willing to put up with some pirates if they are willing. Privateers, Outcasts, Chrysanthemums at the moment. Sometimes it doesn't work out.
"I unfortunately have to go rather soon, but it was... lovely to meet you. Would you care to be walked back to your ship?"
*Heads turned as a new arrival entered the doorway, those closest frowned uncertainly, he wasn't a regular that was for sure, but he certainly didn't look like a new recruit*
"Urghh" Chief Inspector Hone Nathan groaned as he staggered over to the counter, and a comfortable barstool; "I don't normally come here, heh, but if you knew the story I could tell, you'd agree a nice relaxing scone is the perfect idea," he grimaced to the waitress.
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Bob slid quietly to the door, looking suspiciously left and right before slipping inside. Spotting Hone at the counter he readjusted his tinfoil hat and walked nonchalantly to the spot next to him. "A good strong cup of tea thanks!" "Woof!" "and one in a bowl"
Gratefully accepting the tea he put the cup on the floor and took a sip out of the bowl, surreptitiously glancing at Hone. His mind buzzed with what he should say, should Harvey make the opening line? No, he better do it....
He coughed nervously "Eh, hey there...pal? Don't I know you?"
Hone glanced wearily to his side, and noticed the fellow officer sitting next to him. He abruptly did a double take when he saw that his BPA standard issue helmet, seemed to be made entirely out of tinfoil. Frowning warily at the man, a low growl slowly dragged his eyes down to below the seat, where an unidentified nose projected from between the mans legs. Crumbs dropping from the now forgotten Cream Tea scone suspended half an inch from his mouth, Hone stared at this strange apparition, trying to find the marks of rank on his unusual uniform, and determine how he should respond.
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Bob shifted nervously in the silence, this was not going as well as he hoped. He tried to think of a new approach but his glaze was fixed on one point and all he could think about was 'Gee, I REALLY could go for a scone as well'. Maybe Harvey should lead after all. He gave Harvey a shove with his foot. "Grrr! Woof!" Bob nodded, Harvey always did have happy way of greeting people. He waved his hand at a waitress, pointing at Hone's scone and the back towards himself *Whines* "Ruff!" Start off with a joke, Harvey always had good ideas! That opened up a gap for a conversation. Bob continued on "And if you think about it the it's not so hard after all!" *deep growl* "Grrr-ruf!" Bob nodded happily "Then he said 'He you won't be seeing THAT one again!' Ha! Getit? THAT one" Bob beamed, awaiting the inevitable laugher.
Hone relaxed, smiling. Of course, he should have known.
In his time as a policeman, Hone had had plenty of experience with drunks, it wasn't all chasing pirates and rescuing damsels in distress, and you didn't rise up to be Chief Inspector (and he still held hopes that he'd be raised to his long aspired position of Superintendent following his return) without picking up your fare share of puke. Smiling in an attempt not to alarm the man, Hone slowly rose from his seat, and companionably took hold of his shoulder. Clearly the tinfoil hat, which he now noticed also adorned the head of the (stray?) dog gnawing on the chairleg, was a remnant from some party celebration the inebriate had just escaped from.
"Alright there's a good chap, you've had a long night too I suppose? Now lets just get you safely home, we wouldn't want one of our own getting a ticket now would we?" The Chief Inspector murmured, as he attempted to gently steer his new acquaintance towards the door.
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This wasn't going as he expected. Bob was on uncertain ground, he'd been reassigned from his usual post, been given a 'special' mission he wasn't used to, his classic joke hadn't so much gotten a chuckle from this guy who seemed intent on taking him home least he started handing out tickets to people. And now he was being pulled away from his scone and bowl. Bob resorted to his tried and true method. He panicked. "CASEY! CAASSSSEEYYY!!!"
"Oh god". Casey banged her head against the doorframe in frustration. Couldn't she just have ONE day in peace? It had taken days of work to get that tinfoil nutcase assigned away from her on some special case. All that effort of hints and veiled threats to get him AWAY from her and she had to walk in exactly as some miserable rent-a-cop at the counter turned him towards the door.
There was no avoiding him, it was hard to run with a dog clamped to your leg. She marched towards the pair, glaring at the other officer, and snapped out a reply. "Alright, WHAT'S going on?"
"Don't worry, don't worry!" Hone waved to the approaching policewoman, "I think our friend here has just had a leetle too much to drink. But I'll see he gets home safely. Though, say-" Hone paused, perhaps there was an opportunity to return to his rest without having to deal with this;
"You don't know him do you?"
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The tip of a helmet protruded just past the window frame. The worried, open face of a portly young man followed it.
Martin gulped. This all looked too expensive for him...
No, he was one of these people now, wasn't he? He'd got the letter. On official BPA letterhead and everything. Embossed lettering. His address and the date. A proper letter - 'Your application have been accepted, transfer orders will be sent to you shortly.'
His application had been accepted.
Well, he'd gotten his shiny new uniform, looked at himself in the mirror, and decided he looked surprisingly good, despite the little bit of beer-gut and ever-so-slightly too large helmet. And, more importantly, a small advance on his first wage packet. It was more money than he'd ever seen in his life.
So a cup of tea and a bun were probably alright, right?
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