Bill sits back in his quarters contemplating the days events. Finally getting the chance to meet one of the Coalition representatives was an enlightening experience. The revolutionaries lead a spartan life style. Hopefully they will enjoy luxury items that are not normally available to them. This should pave the way for a fruitful business deal. Junker Congress is always looking for new routes and Volgograd Ordinance may just be the next hot item to haul. Just as Bill reaches out to turn off his console a message scrolls across one of the screens. Captain Selim of the Lithuania would like to meet face to face. Bill finishes shutting down Hermes and makes his way to an adjacent hanger where the Lithuania and its captain awaits.
========================================== ZHUKOVSKY STATION, NEW MOSCOW SYSTEM
(House codename: Omega-52)
Aboard the Coalition Peoples Warship Lithuania
docked at capital ship docking port twelve
==========================================
While Bill was powering down his ship, quite the opposite was occurring aboard the Lithuania. Part of the demands of being on the crew, let alone being the commanding officer, of a Coalition capital ship was the continual and maximum level of readiness for combat operations and while a diplomatic mission was a welcome change of pace for the crew, they could never let their guard down given the vast number of enemies the Revolution was continually at odds with.
After having sent his dispatch to Bill, Captain Selim along with a couple security personnel for escort made his way through the decks of the cruiser until they reached the airlock, where Selim would finally get the opportunity to meet up with his Junker counterparts.
Once the airlock cycle completed and Selim's entourage was able to set foot into the Zhukovsky docking port, Bill would be able to get his first glimpse of an SCRA military officer in the flesh.
Bill stands ready as Captain Selim and his escorts exit the airlock. This old Junker is wearing his normal attire, all black, worn felt cowboy hat, boots, jeans, weathered duster, and of course, a large silver belt buckle with the faded .:j:. etched into the center. This is in direct contrast to the man standing before him. Selim is a man in his prime, well groomed, wearing a freshly pressed uniform. This is not the sort an old Junker would normally deal with. Not really sure on what to do next, Bill removes his hat and bows slightly. He slowly reaches in to a pocket inside his duster, producing a small flat square metal box. Pressing a small latch on the side the box opens revealing a handful of hand rolled cigarettes. Removing one for himself he extends the opened box to Captain Selim. Smiling slightly he asks "Where can a feller git a drink 'round here?"
Selim's first impression of the Junker standing before him was one of intrigue. He had anticipated the Junkers to be a bit more destitute in their appearance, to the point of desperation. But it was obvious from Bill's old, worn looks that if the Junker Congress was a failing group that certainly none of them would have lived long enough to reach the age where a man was in serious danger of having grey hairs. These moments of speculation would quickly pass due to the ongoing events present.
After bill spoke, Selim would remove his sunglasses (why a Coalition capital ship commander would ever need these, let alone anyone from Volgograd) and quickly slip them into one of his uniform's pockets, revealing some quite pristine blue eyes. He would then pick up and examine one of Bill's cigarettes, only to place it back as it were in the case.
" As enthusiastic as I should be for this meeting, cigarettes simply aren't my poison of choice. But I will be glad to show you to the Vodka. Come on, comrade."
Selim and his guards would make way down the halls of the docking port towards the heart of the station proper, where the bar would reside. He would motion for Bill to come along.
The group enters a very distinctly Coalition bar. It is evident in the polished stainless steel bar, stools, and nearby tables. It's not a loud place, no music, and the chatter is low key. This is definitely a Militaristic lounge/bar. Bill eases onto one of the steel chairs at the nearest table. Normally he would aim for the darkest corner, or the dingiest part of the bar, however, this place is clean and well lit. Selim sits down across from Bill, his bodyguards taking position nearby. The bartender walks up and places two shot glasses on the table, filling both with the clear alcohol that is the Coalitions signature drink. As the bartender turns to leave Bill says "Best you leave that there bottle here. Don't reckon we'll be satisfied with jus one shot." He now focuses his attention on Captain Selim. "I ain't used to places what're as nice as this. We git most our business in the shadows, places what most folk ain't willin to go. Might jus take a few of these 'fore I'm comfortable 'round here." Bill says. Raising his glass he nearly shouts "To the SCRA, may yer soldiers never fail, an yer cause be just."
As Bill raised his glass, he would soon be greeted to the always satisfying ding of glass meeting, well, more glass. Soon after Selim would have downed the shot of fine Coalition Vodka. As Bill would no doubt soon find out, the philosophy of raw efficiency in everything the Coalition did would extend right down to the mixture of their beverages -- but no mistake is to be made, for the raw, utter simplicity of Vodka is in fact its strong point, wherein the natural flavors and kick of the beverage were permitted to do their task.
" To the Coalition, to the Revolution, to the good fortune of all."
One shot later.
"I imagine a high security base isn't the first place you lot would do business... but if you think the security's high here then you haven't seen the security detail of Zvezdny or Mykolaiv. But we're here for business. Business, such a callous word around here; it is usually assigned to the practices of our enemies. It's not often that it falls into the realm of our associates and comrades. Speaking of which I believe the Volgograd Industrial has already earmarked a large stock of Ordnance for your acquisition and transit."
Two shots later.
I understand you Junkers are movers, so you'll no doubt have the means to move the Ordnance where it needs to go.
As the two sit and drink their vodka Bills communicator audibly alerts him to an incoming message. He puts down his shot glass and checks it quickly. Smiling, he tells Captain Selim "Reckon some of 'em are ready to be moved. I jus heard from our jump ship the Collector that we got a fleet of Salvagers comin in. They're waitin in Omega 49 fer an escort." Bill downs another shot of Vodka. "How 'bout you an yer crew greet our fleet? Give 'em the tour an see how we move 'round undetected?" Bill asks.