Bernard finally understood that he needs a breathing space. This great idea came to him when he woke up at the sofa in the command room of Samothraki the second time with the prints of the plates the touchscreen; with a coffee stains all over the panels and another one oh his pants; with a quite evident smell of the 30 men in the crew of the ship that lost its shower cubicles in the unpleasant meeting with some people in the nearby system; with a feeling that he had hardly been resting well because of being stationed at the Tau-29 jump hole for three days in a row; with no clean clothes left; with no fresh food or alcohol on board; and finally with the wake up call from Tomoe-san who wanted to know if anyone is still alive here.
The best sign of being alive is the feeling of pain. Bernard’s head hurt because of few sleep; his neck hurt because of sleeping in the wrong place; his lungs hurt because of too many smoking; his stomach hurt because of the supper that was not as good as expected and he generally wanted a bath and a massage.
Good news here, - he heard from the comm, - we got a ZDF wing to replace you here.
Bernard said something not articular enough to understand, thought a second more, answered something proper, stand up and elbowed the navigator to gesture the direction to Shasta Orbital Skyhook.
First of all, he had a best shower he ever had; then the best three-minute noodles became the best dinner he ever had; he also never wearied such a nice jacket, such a comfortable shirt and such soft and tender shorts. Finally he left the room, left a sack with quite specific smell in the laundry with a warning note about threat from within and walked in the direction of Club Discordia he hadn’t visited the last time he was at Shasta with a couple of unexpected guests. In the hall he was of his guard and nearly ran into someones else guard - he didn’t noticed the person that dozen of two meters tall guys were surrounding.
Finally, the Club. A horse at the bar wasn’t surprising, so he just passed by looking for someone he had already seen with a bottle of vodka borrowed from someone who borrowed it from bar yesterday. Borrowing something from a place is a good reason to come back, you know.
Why had he bothered coming to Baffin? He had been visiting Liberty and moving back up the Taus, and it had been the quickest route. How had he circumvented the ban of travel through Baffin?
He had initially planned to bribe anybody he saw, but when moving through Coronado a group of Bounty Hunters had attacked. Barrier Gate had no docks available so he had to go to Baffin and seek a place to land. So they had let him enter to get repairs. He would leave via the Tau-29 jump hole once his ship was repaired and he had had his fill of drinks and done enough women.
He had pinged the large group of bodyguards with their employer, and whoever they were meeting. And he had watched them leave, from across the bar. Their guns looked like those used by the Coalition. That had to bring a grin to Roger's face, when he remembered destroying the Social Credit. He wondered if they had picked up the pieces and glued them back together, or just used a new ship and given it that name.
He downed what remained of his Sidewinder Fang and ordered another, then turned his attention to the dancing strippers. He knew it was going to be an event-filled day, one way or the other.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
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Even though he had ordered it built, Club Discordia wasn't his kind of place to hang out but when he was stuck at Shasta for days on end working, he paid a visit, often working the Poker table to maintain an old bad habit!
Still, one part of the club was set up for the more civilized of folk and with the usual passer's through in Baffin, it was also one of the quietest, a perfect place for someone like a group administrator to find quiet over a drink to go through piles of paperwork. Doc sat in his corner doing just that. He ignored the two ladies chatting over dinner on the other side. His two ship commanders, Sarah Coyle and Alicia Cook, were enjoying a night off while catching up on recent events. They also gave their boss his space and left him alone as he did them.
Doc sat alone, a bottle of Coalition Vodka sitting next to the glass into which it was dispensed. He looked over his datapad, reviewing reports while signing a few documents as he hoped his old friend, Malaclypse, would arrive.
Malaclypse had to search a bit for the Club. It had opened during his year-long "sabbatical", and was situated on a deck of the Skyhook he seldom visited. He mused to himself about Doc's choice of meeting places; but knew the man needed some form of recreation to relieve his busy daily routine.
The Episkopos stopped briefly to chat with Alicia and Sarah, eschewing talk of their continuing research for some light banter. Finally, he turned towards Doc's quiet corner, gesturiing to a barmaid for a clean glass.
"Hello, John Henry." He reached into a pocket of his baggy cargo shorts, and threw a bundle on the table as he sat down. "I brought you some souvenirs." Doc smiled as he looked down at dozens of Passports, the fronts emblazoned with the Apple logo of Fernando Poo. "So much for Floating Autonomous Zones," said Mal as his glass arrived and he helped himself to Doc's vodka.
He lifted his glass to Doc and toasted. "Here's to a happy Verwirrung, John!" They both drained their glasses, and sat in silence for a few moments.
Mal reached over and picked up Doc's ever-present deck of cards. He shuffled them, his hands a blur. Doc's eyes widened as Mal began to lay a pattern on the table. The cards were no longer standard pasteboards.. they bore the familiar images of the Tarot. The pattern contained only three cards, in the shape of a pyramid.
Mal touched each card as he spoke softly to his old friend. "At the top, the Empress. We are here because of Eris, John."
"At lower right, the Magician," he continued. "As a diplomat and Administrator, you work magic. As a physician, you perform miracles."
"At lower left, the Fool. I've been Eris' Fool for nigh on half a decade, and apparently, She still wants me be your Court Jester and Episkopos, old friend."
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Doc was actually fairly quiet, an indication that he was in a gentle but kind mood. He sat with a soft smile on his face. But, try as he may, he failed at hiding much of what was on his mind.
Quietly, he drank with Mal and then listened to the card reading. Then as his friend awaited his answer, he lifted his smile a bit, reaching for the clear bottle half-full of red fluid. He re-filled their glasses and after putting the bottle down, he picked up his glass. As he swirled it's contents, he looked into it and spoke.
"This Coalition Vodka is symbolic of one of my greatest diplomatic achievements," he explained, "establishing a peaceful co-existence with a military group that at one time treated us as hostile as they did governments. The flax we generate for the Temple of Eris is small compared to the friendship that I have developed with Premier Alvin Katz."
He paused a moment, and gave a single chuckle, "I was honored to save his life not long ago."
He then lowered his glass enough to look to his friend, Mal, "I'm glad you're back. I've been waiting. I don't need to tell you how tough it can be running this whole gang although many have stepped up to help. Xavier Triton, Peter Kristall and Mhnosm are but a few. With my medical practice, I can't possibly do it along."
He then took a sip of his vodka and continued, "Mal, welcome home. Since Kyte is here, there and everywhere, I need someone to help with the wardenship of TAZ. You built TAZ so I can't think of anyone better and since your robes still fit, it's one less thing to worry about."
He paused a moment and continued, "Recently, I have learned something, something that will consume yet more of my time. It is a good thing that I have a relay from Tombstone to here so that I can work from home."
He leaned forward a bit, "I've told no one this as of yet and I wish to keep it quiet. You know, the press and would-be-extortionists deciding to use her as a pawn." He then slid his datapad before Mal, a frozen picture of a sonagram on it.
"Midori is with twins," Doc said softly, "I diagnosed her yesterday."
He then took back his datapad, "So now you know why I'll be busy." He snickered, "Alvin was right when he said that children were the curse of the married man!" Doc then sipped his drink again, "If it's a curse, I'm a happy man."
A tallish upstanding man entered the room, he didnt look at the women, and stood slowly casing the room, dressed in civilian clothing, Shorts with palmtree patterns and a white T-shirt with a large depiction of the Goddess Eris on it. The man was about 50 years old, his eyes and posture denoted experiance even though he was dressed in such a manner.
The man recognised Doctor Holiday right away from memorising the pictures of him from his ships log files, not to mention he was a famous man. He moved to the bar and placed an envelope inconspiciously next to the good doactor and ordered a drink at the same time.
Man: "A dry scotch please bartender."
he did not look at the doctor or anyone else in the room, keeping his eyes firmly on the bar table, recieving his drink, he slid a few credits across the table and nodded poitedly, moving away to a empty table.
letter reads:
"Doctor J.H Holiday, I wish to speak with you immediatly"
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Doc saw the note and was curious. Who was this man? What did he want? He then took a sideways look at him and nodded. Looking straight ahead, he said softly, "When you're ready, Sir, I'll be at my corner table."
With that, Doc took his glass and sat at a corner table, away from the view of others as he awaited the stranger.
The man stood up from his table, walking over to the Doctor as he moved to his corner booth. Sitting down and placing his scotch on the table his eyes looking around without moving his head, curious of cameras or other devices used for spying.
He opened a pocket on his shorts, and took out a small writing pad and a pen, his eyes focused on the Doctor for a few moments and then he wrote on the paper.
The man turns the pad and pushes it to face the Doctor placing the pen on top of the pad.
"Doctor Holiday, my name is Quintesson Darrenson, I am the captain of the Bretonian Battleship "Endeavour" you will have to excuse the way i look, coming aboard with an Bretonian navy uniform would not be the best way to maintain secrecy.
also the way I am communicating with you now, is also for the saftey of your people as well as my own.
Im not sure I need to fully draw out the implications of our being discovered here, Endeavour is currently hidden within the ice field to the east of this sector. we have spoken with one named Malcalypse, but we felt it necessary to come to you directly.
Im sure you are aware of the conflict in omega 3, even if you are not fully up to speed with everything going on there. We were there at the first battle between rheinland and bretonia, we jumped in after the shooting had started to suprise the enemy armour. However, that was a futile effort, and the Endeavour was the only ship larger than a templar that escaped that battle.
I have a duty to protect the men and women aboard my ship, and i will not have the Endeavour be used to slay hundreds of thousands of people in a conflict with no logical reason for existing. so many lives lost.
and so, here we are... We ask for temporary asylum here in Baffin. The Endeavour was not spotted coming here, using only the jumpholes we knew of to get here, and avoiding all traffic. Also are fully aware of the Pentabarf regulations of the system, and believe me when i tell you, Endeavour will be maintaining radio and visual silence.
We also realise that this will not be a choice made on a whim..."
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Doc read the note and scratched his chin. He then looked at the Officer and just stared a few moments. It was obvious, he wasn't happy about it. He then nodded and softly spoke, "follow me to my chambers. We'll have privacy there." Doc got up, took the note and making sure that the captain was with him, escorted him to his chambers. It was there that he spoke.
"The presence of your ship is dangerous for my people," he explained, "Kusari is next door and would accuse me of harboring enemies. The Crown would be on me for harboring fugitives." Doc paused a moment, knowing how the Crown solved problems. He spoke with a look of disgust, "I've seen how your government deals with Zoners."
Doc put aside his bias and dislike of Bretonia and continued, "You may have gotten in undetected but I get a lot of traffic through this system, some of which fly around to chart everything. It would only take one of them to see your ship and raise an alarm."
"Your ship is hidden in the ice field per my order," he continued, "If you wish to take asylum in Baffin, I want the ship scuttled and all of it's records destroyed. I don't want the attention."
Doc thought for a moment and asked, "So what of your crew? What would they do? Where would they go? That's a lot of people that I don't have quarter for.....unless you all take up the Zoner way. I may have an option then."