Mao eyed the crowd of foreigners, it wasn't often that so many nationals from abroad entered the Coalition drinking theatre. Perfect for the commisariat if they were after a little foreign brain stuff.
He didn't like much seeing his halls walked by corporate lenients and capitalist sympathisers, Zoners and Interspace alike-- This just wasn't his call though, holiday spirit was being poured by by the gallon and it was no place of his to stand in the way. The best he could do was sip his spirits and grin like a fool.
Gagging down another he noticed someone meandering their way down the bar while humming some old white classic from the glory days of Sol, something about Christman? Christmas? Didn't really matter, guaranteed he was angling for the brunette. Fringe folk always thinking with the wrong head.
Gabriel laughed loud enough to catch the eye of two Sub-Lieutenants behind him, they shot him the look and he shot back before fingering his epaulettes. Down boy it said, be a good dog.
Katz was politicking in the background somewhere, Mendel wasn't far behind. To the untrained eye it was just like the old days, almost like the old days really. Almost.
Mao frowned.
"Premier! Premier, come! Introduce these good comrades of the Coalition. Show me the men we have chosen to share sheets with."
He interjected unaware of the proceedings going on around him and began to hum "The Lucky Ones"