Armel came in right behind Zack, looking tired. Another long patrol, and once again, time to relax for a few hours. He sat down at the bar, and ordered a glass of Wine from the bartender.
"Leave the bottle" he grunted, and the bartender obliged, setting it down beside his glass.
Armel drained the glass, and filled it up again. He drank more slowly this time, and took a look around the Bar. Mostly Primary fleet pilots, he assumed, since he had known many back in the Secondary fleet. And one woman who looked strangely familiar, sitting beside Capitaine Giroux. Armel took another sip, trying to remember where he knew her from....
Cassandra reached into her uniform, pulling out a necklace. It was woven gold, looking like a flower made of wires, and in the center laid a beautiful blue gem. She looked at it, her hands shaking slightly as she stared into the gem, and rubbed it with a thumb. She took a sip of her coffee, holding the trinket in her other hand, still watching it. Resting the coffee back on the table, she whispers the words "Why her..."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
A man with a posture that reeked of authority and a uniform that was as well-kept as the King's throne stepped into the bar rather quietly. His brown eyes scanned about, taking in the sight of pilots and officers enjoying themselves as one entity. His posture lessened, causing the light to glint off the menagerie of ribbons and badges pinned to his chest. Above the awards was a gold Fleur-de-Lys; chevrons below it indicating his status as a Marechal of the Navy. He strode to the bar, his black overcoat trailing behind him. He halted at the bar, studying the man for a few moments before speaking.
"A bottle of A Cherie 780." The bartender looked a bit puzzled, then nodded in understanding and scuttled off to fetch the pricey drink. Maurice then looked back to the crowd, picking out familiar faces.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"