Welcome to all trader, fighter and bomber pilots as well as officers from capital ships of the SF.
The two main bartenders at peak times are Mike and Joanne, who like to listen to tall tales.
Feel free to tell them about any missions you've been on, as they have full security clearance.
This is the place for idle chatter about weapons loadouts or jokes about the best way to nail a Corsairs Legionnaire.
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(OOC: If you want some character development on your pilots and crew, feel free to make use of this thread.
Add to the bar staff for your own purposes if you wish.
If it's not suitable for the SF message dump, put it here.)
A short, stocky man in his mid twenties walked up to the bar.
Pulling his cap off his clean shaven head he looked around.
The new officers club looked decent enough, although it was difficult to disguise it's laboratory design.
He spotted the Beta squadron logo on a killboard at the corner table opposite the door, a decent distance from the bar.
A female voice came from behind the bar. "Welcome sir. How can I help?"
He looked around to see an attractive blonde barmaid. "Orange juice thanks... Joanne. I'm Lieutenant Hunt of Beta squadron by the way."
"Oh right. Your squadron's table is over there in the corner Lieutenant."
"Thanks. Call me "three" when the rest of the squadron's around please." He winks at her.
She grins in reply. "Of course three. I see you already rate second on the squadron kill board."
"All the BAF Guard training I guess. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and try some of those complementary cashews before four gets here."
All conversation stops as a man, clearly a pilot by the jumpsuit and full-face helmet, marches into the bar. A martial air, Marching Glorious to War or some other such piece, drifts from beneath the helmet, and his heels (non-regulation nails very evident) click in time to the music. His jumpsuit is plain, excluding the exorbant amount of medal ribbons (also non-regulation) pinned to the chest, and the word "Four" across the helmet, shoulderblades, running up both legs and arms, and across the knuckles of his hands.
As he removes the helmet, the martial music ceases, and a gloriously unnatractive face grins from beneath the lank black hair.
"OY!! Three's bloody beat me 'ere then! 'Oo's been having a nice prissy juice now then? Roight?"
He swaggers over to the Beta Sqn. table, and samples a massive pawful of cashews.
"I bleedin' Love cashews! Oy, Suzy, grab me a triple scotch, in celebration of me new transponder ID; wait for it... Armed Forces Guard! Praise the lord, 'ave you got yers yet three? Or are the Waste Disposal folks still claiming you as their own? Hahahah!"
Practically bouyant with hilarity, he slumps into the largest chair at the table and tosses back his whisky, which Suzy (a generously... endowed redhead) had quickly refilled.
Jack Handey Wrote:I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
Beta Squadron's table was covered in bits of cashew nut as four chowed down.
Three watched in amusment then shook his head. "Bloody hell four. How did you get that tag? I've had hours of being shuffled up and down the list. First Planetform claimed me as their own, then back to BAF... and now it's BMM!" Three shook his head in disgust at the situation.
"Another orange juice thanks Suzy. Got to finish talking to representatives of these bloody civilian institutions later I guess."
Two men walked in to the bar. One was dressed in the very distinctive clothing of an officer of the SF. He looked around. He saw the Beta squadron table to his left, and briefly thought of going over to sit there. No, he said to himself it's just another group of fighter jocks that think they can own the entire sector. To be young and free again.
The other was dressed in normal civilian clothes, and looked like he had just visited The Underworld and returned.
Instead of moving over to sit with the fighter jocks, the first man moved towards the bar. He looked briefly at the famed cashews of this bar, but decided that the salty, crunchy nuts were not up his alley today. Instead, he decided to grab for the pub mix sitting at the bar, and ate it.
"What can I get for you, Brackenbury?" Joanne had come around the corner from mixing a drink popular in tropical getaways. "Just a beer, goes well with the pub mix you've got rolling around here." Joanne poured him a glass of thick, black beer from Dublin, his favorite.
"What about you, Kerrigan," Mike had just come around the corner to see the doctor sitting next to Brackenbury.
"I'm gonna hit one of those tropical drinks tonight," he said. "What was it you called it? A mar-, margita--"
"A margarita, hon," Joanne helped him out.
"That's the one!" Kerrigan looked at Joanne, she's not bad he thought to himself, but stopped his daydream when he saw Edmund Brackenbury doing the same.
Mike delivered the drinks, and said "Didn't know you two knew each other."
"Yep," Brackenbury said "we were roommates throughout our years at the academy, branched our different ways after that." The speaker would have an attractive man if weren't for a monstrously scarred face from various encounters with pirates, and even his former captain.
As the night progressed, Brackenbury began to get tipsy, and drooped into drunkenness. Barely able to to stand up, Jeff Kerrigan, who had studied enough of the effects of alcohol to stop when he needed, canceled Brackenbury's drinks. With that, Brackenbury stood up, and went to visit the Beta table. The squadron, who normally enjoyed his company let him sit before he fell to the ground again.
"Rough day?" Suzy asked Brackenbury
"Rougher than you could imagine," Kerrigan said as he came up behind his friend. "I slipped something into his last beer, he should sober up any minute now."
"Care to sit?" asked one of the Beta members.
"Sure, I think I'll make it a date," Kerrigan said. He sat down opposite Brackenbury, grabbed a large handful of cashews, forgot about all the patients he lost that day, and enjoyed the rest of the night with these fighter jocks. Maybe they're not as bad as Brackenbury thinks.
Retired A very big thanks to Dark Oddity who put my signature pic together
Four leaned far, far back on his chair, and belched gloriously. 'I wonder what Brackenbury will do about that...' As Three's comm beeped, he offered a poorly though out and completely erronious comment:
"Hey! Hey, three. Whattaya you running now, Gas Miner? Hahaha..."
As Three shut off his comm, his eyes struck Four with a murderous glare, and the recipient collapsed into gales of hilarity.
Three walked into the room sporting new Guard epaulettes on his flightsuit.
Walking to the bar he ordered a bottle of bubbly from Joanne and then headed over to the Beta Squadron section.
"Well four, you wouldn't believe how much trouble these were." He indicated towards the new decorations on his uniform.
Four raises his eyebrows questioningly over the shot of whisky he was about to throw back.
"Would you believe I got attacked by a fighter and a bloody great battleship in California?
"Can't imagine what they wanted to attack me for. Just as well there were SA ships on standby or I'd probably have worse than scratched paint on my ship!"
Four belches loudly in sympathy and grabs another handful of cashews, spreading bits and pieces liberally over the area as he munches away with his mouth open.
Three shakes his head. "Finally got the damn GMG sorted. Amazing they had me on their flight listing seeing as I've never even been to Sigma 13 before."
Suzy delivers a bottle and full glasses to the table and three sits back, taking a long pull from a glass.
"Drinks are on me.
"Brackenbury? Kerrigan?" He indicates towards the glasses on the table.
"Well, sorry I missed it pal, I was on day-leave, *belch* went down to the beach and caught me some fine... fish. Anyways, where do I get those Guard epaulettes, they look like the final touch to ye olde ensemble. Plus, I shoulda got mine first, by the rights, 'cause the h-fuel vendors never got their paws on me."
Grinning widely, he shoves another handfull of cashews into his mouth and plunks his feet on the table
"Drinks on you, eh? Well, I think another scotch is in order. Faugh, I'm going slow tonite, this is only the eighth!"
Skipping the glasses entirely, he seizes the bottle and guides it towards the refuelling port, pausing to issue the starting phrase of a well known tale.
"Say, 'ave I ever told you 'bout the time me'n Five stared down those Brotherhood punks outside 'a Cambridge?"
Mark strolls cockily into the bar, then wanders over.
"Mike, my man, how's it going?" *With a Liberty accent*
"'Ey, Mark, 'ow ya been?"
"Fine, just fine, and who is this lovely lady right here?"
"This 'ere is Joanne, my com'any for tonight."
"Pleasure to meet you, my lady."
Joan giggles, "Well, thanks."
Sitting down next to Mike, "Who are these other guys?" *whispered*
"Some mates I met a minute ago, why?"
"Just wonderin, *stops whispering* Is Mike fascinatin you with some Brotherhood stories? Don't believe him, I was there, those "5" was a trainee in a starblazer."
"Was not! It was a Titan!" Mike replied
"At the least, 2 legionnares. Anywho..."
I am a long-absent Supreme Commander, Executive Commander, Grand Admiral, Fleet Admiral, and Captain in the mighty Hellfire Legion. I have returned, and am on an urgent mission from Drake Thastus to return the Legion to its former glory, and to claim the galaxy for its own. Only then will I be able to rest.
RP Story (Still deciding whether or not to finish)
"Three, I'm no sucker for more than a few drinks, and give Brackenbury any more and we'll have a lot more problems than we already do. I don't remember him being much of a jolly drunk."
Both Kerrigan and Brackenbury sported the accent from the pits of BMM bases and ships scattered throughout Dublin. However, when Kerrigan was blasted, he was merry - something he hadn't done since he started studying the effects in med school - but Brackenbury seemed to just get angry. Amazing he hasn't started a fight ye-- oh that's right, I slipped some of that miracle powder into his drink.
"Hey, thossse arre sssome nice ssstickers you'sss got there, Lutent Hut. I'll take a gin if you don't mind," Brackenbury was starting to show signs of comprehension now, the medicine must have been working.
"He's had enough," Kerrigan said, "and besides, gin is my drink."
"Gotcha, doc," four said, reaching for yet another handful of cashews.
Brackenbury started coming around quite quickly now. After about five minutes he said, "whoah, didn't meant to intrude, guys, but I had a rough day. Had five of my top officers in a court martial after a power feedback surge that killed one. At least they got off; the investigators deemed that it was not their fault. I don't think I'll be drinking too much after this."
"Geez, Kerrigan, what did you put in his drink?" four blurted out.
"Works miracles, doesn't it? Thing you don't know," Kerrigan turned to Brackenbury, "is that it'll give you the worse possible hangover tomorrow morning, but I didn't want you rampaging around the bar like a lion."
"I guess I should thank you, Jeff," Brackenbury said, "you probably just succeeded in your life long goal to keep me away from alcohol."
"Anyway, those are some nice epaulettes, there three. Reminds me that the last time I wore my uniform was back at the academy. Since then I've been trotting around in the white coat and scrubs."
"Ha," four interjected, "if you ever want a girlfriend, maybe you should dress up more often."
"Good point, maybe I'll try that tomorrow. For now, though," he turned and signaled Joanne, "I think I'll grab just one more gin, haven't had one yet."
"And while we're at it," Brackenbury said, "let's hear about you and five taking out those brotherhood punks. He knew how angry Kerrigan would get if he ordered another stout, so he abstained from it. He doesn't drink much, so I guess I should follow that cue, shouldn't I?
Retired A very big thanks to Dark Oddity who put my signature pic together
![[Image: 2001775094275025807_rs.jpg]](http://aycu11.webshots.com/image/4250/2001775094275025807_rs.jpg)
![[Image: 771179322673kj2.png]](http://img508.imageshack.us/img508/859/771179322673kj2.png)
