A tall, dark-skinned man walked into the Ship Inn for the first time. A broad smile covered his narrow, high-cheekboned face. A long pony tail flowed down his back, in which were braided small pieces of turquoise and bone.
His flightsuit and boots were standard IND issue, however a fringed jacket made from the hide of some animal covered the flightsuit. Embroiered on the jacket with small delicate beads were symbols of birds and snakes..
The man walked up to another tall but fair man seated at the bar.
"Mr. Simon? I am honored to finally meet you in person, sir. My name is Gilbert. I appreciate very much your acceptance of my application fly for IND. I have a very large, extended family to care for, and they have been ill recently. Our medical expenses have been very high. This new position will allow me to provide more adequately for their needs.
All the paperwork is completed, sir. I will be visiting my.. brothers for a time, and then I will do my best to upgrade my small ship to something more capacious. I vow to uphold the fine reputation of IND at all times."
Jay Simon had a bemused look on his face as the tall native nodded, turned, and left the bar without another word.
Andrea walks into the Bar, accompanied by a man of around his mid 50's.
'This is the main Bar. I come here every once and a while, but I try and avoid it if Derek Mandle is here. He can be a little obtrusive.' said Andrea as she walked through the well-tread establishment.
'Well then,' said the man, 'Seeing as were here, and the one you call 'Derek' isn't here, we might as well ahve ourselves a small drink.'
'If you wish, It's quite good, but remember, were Honest pilots. Don't have too much'
Andrea sat down at the Bar with her father. 'We jsut ahve some Liberty Ale, Sophie.'
"Ah nothing... Just uhh... Had a bit of a run in with Andrea's father."
*I'm going to hope you made a good impression.*
"Umm, what would you call a good impression?"
Sophie takes Derek's comm unit and reads the converted voice logs.
------
Aaron Verginix: Ahoy there
Derek Mandel: Oh, you must be Andrea's father. Oh sh*t you're Andrea's father. Hello sir! No I wasn't in your daughters bed last night, I swear!
Aaron Verginix: Oh, you must be that Mandel guy she's always telling me to avoid.
Derek Mandel: 'Avoid' ... Ya, ok.
Aaron Verginix: She says she try to avoid you as well.
Derek Mandel: Avoid? Is that what she's been telling yo... Wait, nevermind!
Aaron Verginix: I think you have some wrong idea's son. How old are you?
Derek Mandel: 22.
Aaron Verginix: Hmpf, has the mindset of somewhere younger.
Derek Mandel: *mumbles insults*
Aaron Verginix: Sorry?
Derek Mandel: Nothing! Mandel out!
------
*Smooth.*
"Ah well, nothing he can do to catch me!"
*Then you better run, I think that's him walking in the door.*
Derek looks over his shoulder in shock to see no one there.
"Oh so funny, so funny."
Sophie gives a little giggle and Derek walks out of the bar keeping an eye out just incase.
The sun was coming up over Manhattan, the early morning trading traffic was starting to appear in the
skies of Liberty. On Newark Station, groggy Bounty Hunters left their office with their days work load
grasped in shaky hands Nothing changed.
Jay left the office, and sauntered to the bar, the cleaners having finished for the day.
The place had a first thing shine to it, and the smell of fresh coffee was spilling out onto the rest of
floor, too good to miss, and the pile of paperwork was reducing slowly.
Early breakfast at the Ship, best time of the day. Just him and Sophie, good coffee, cinnamon Danish
and conversation.
Morning my dear, a double Liberticano with a couple of slices of fresh ginger in, and the usual sticky
bun. Use some of that new delivery of the Canarian Mountain the Taz boys dropped in, supposed to
be the mutts nuts, this crop.
The filter jug was already bubbling an aroma into the atmosphere ...
Roger Jay, take a seat and let the gaggia get warmed, shouldnt be too long, need a shot of something
stronger to get the blood moving ? You look rough as a porcupines ass as usual.
Jay just raised an eyebrow
Thanks Soph, always nice to hear a compliment this early, makes the day get off to a good start.
Wearing that lot for a bet ? Go collect, you won.
The genial banter continued as usual Jay went for his second mug
Well its good to see everyone still around, and working, these changes in Sirius have given them the
chance to get off their lazy butts again. Got to make a change or two to the ship registries though now.
Need to switch out those IC cards for the trader ones to keep us sweeter with the odd local customs.
Ah well nothing stays the same.
Breakfast over, and Jay got to his feet
Right Soph, leave you to it, sure the rush will be starting soon, look after them all. Derek still trying to
sleep with anything that has a pulse? And one other thing
Keep a pack of back bacon in the freezer will ya, never know if Pete will pop his ugly mug back in the
door at any time.
Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."
Derek walked in to the bar looking rather tired and worn out.
"Eh! Sophie, grab me a drink would ya? Need something to keep me awake." "Well, you look tired, what have you been up to? Ignoring the part where you got thrown in jail."
Sophie giving Derek a look of disappointment, but he continued to talk.
"Ah, got myself caught up with the Girlfriends. They're starting to wear me down." "Girlfriends!? How many do you have at once this time!? And do they even know!?"
"Haha! Of course they know. Gabrielle, Victoria, and Rebecca... Two of em are currently at my beach house in Cortez." "Gabrielle? You mean that Delavancy girl that passed by here a little while ago?"
"Ya, that's the one..." "Well, got yourself a lucky again did you?"
"Errr, let's just say more then once... At the same time." "Stop, I don't want to know."
Derek laughed at the expression of Sophie's face.
"Ya, I won't mention any of that. Put the drink on my tab, I'm heading off... Gabrielle is waiting for me on Houston." "Go then! Don't keep her waiting."
"Oh... Put it this way Soph, she wouldn't mind."
Derek smiled leaving Sophie confused behind the bar table.
A respectable looking, slightly overweight man walks into the VIP lounge.
"Morning Sophie. Hows tricks?"
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Cabover Pete. Now there's a sight for sore eyes. How is it with you, Mr. P? Last I heard you'd pulled up sticks and taken a permanent vacation."
"Yes well, nice as it is, retirement didn't particularly agree with me. Sitting on my keaster all day long... I figured, I can do that in a transport and make more money while I'm at it."
"Too true, too true."
"And all those new systems just been discovered... new trade routes, new opportunities to make a quid. Can't let the young fellas have all the fun."
Sophie regarded Pete's mid-section with surprise. "My word, Mr.P, but you're looking sharp. New clothes, not spattered with grease. And have you lost weight?"
Pete looked ruefully at himself. "Hmmm. On Gran Canaria, they seem to have an aversion to... fine cuisine, shall we say. Both eating it and wearing it. They also have an aversion to personal transport too; that is, besides old Shank's Pony."
"So retirement appears to have done you some good, at least."
"That's one way of looking at it, I s'pose."
"If you continue like this, you'll start giving my place a good reputation."
"We'll just see about that! Just soon as I get my old flight suit out of mothballs. And I don't suppose..."
Sophie made a wry grin. "Yeees, fryer's warming up, hon."
"Well in the meantime I better check in with the guvnor. How is he, still out fishing? And how's old Stuart and Rick, and Andrea, and that metal bloke from Rheinland. And has Derek managed to land that GC piece yet? Or got himself shot more likely..."
An Advanced Large Train made it's landing on Newark station on top of a reserved spot, the sign next to it reading "Derek Mandel". Derek jumped out of his train and made his way in to Sophie's bar.
"Eh, Sophie! How's my old girl doing?"
"Did you just call me old!?"
"Err... Moving on, been a bit since I've been around, spending a lot of time on Curacao. What's been happening around here? Jay still being a fat bastard bathing in his credits?"
"Pete made his way back in."
"Ah! So he has? Gonna have to buy em a drink sometime, heard the stuff on Planet Gran Canaria is horrible."
"He also mentioned if you managed to snag Juno yet."
"Heh, moved on, got myself Gabrielle now... And tw... Nevermind."
"Hiding something?"
"Nothing! Nothing! Just give me a drink would ya? The usual stuff."
"Calm down, only poking fun."
Sophie slid a drink down the table, Derek drinking it down quickly.
"Hey! You keep doing that and you'll make yourself sick!"
"I'll be fine, it was only one glass afterall."
"Well, there won't be any of that here. I guess I'll cut you off early, out!"
"You're kicking me out alr..."
"Out!"
"Fine fine fine, I'm going... Tell Pete to meet me here later! I'll buy em something."
Sophie ran over to the corner to grab a broom, she returned to find Derek already in his Train flying off Newark.
Pete walks in the VIP's lounge. He is flanked by five scruffy individuals of various shapes and sizes.
"Gidday, Soph. I'm extremely bloody annoyed! You won't believe--" he stops and turns to address them. "What are you lot doing here?"
A large man with a thick Rheinlander accent steps up. "You said ve vere going to have a drink."
"Can't you read? This is VIP's only. Your bar is out there." Pete starts to hustle them out. "Gawn! Off you go."
"Vhat about our lunch?"
"I'll bring it out to you."
A gawky youth with a squeaky adolescent voice speaks. "Can I have tomato sauce on mine?"
"Yes, whatever."
A confident Bretonian is eyeing off Sophie. "'Ullo, lovey!"
Pete is flapping his hands. "Shoo! Bzzz!"
They amble out grumbling, and Pete turns back to Sophie, shaking his head.
She chuckles. "Your new crew, I presume?"
"Yes. The big one's Hubert, my right-hander. He handles most things, and weapons when the need arises. Also drives the lifter. He's all right, as far as any Rheiner can be. The smarmy Bret, Mick, is my nav man. He can smell a jumphole from 50 clicks, especially the ones never to take. The little 'Sari is Junji, my techo. I can't understand a word he says, but he can make anything work given a piece of chewing gum and a roll of solder. Next is Fran, my engineer. She keeps the crate of mine flying in one direction instead of all directions. There's a girl under all that grease somewhere. And lastly there's Nat, the work experience kid."
"Looks like you've got your hands full with that lot."
"Ah, they're all right. Just the usual bunch of independents I scrounged up on a Freeport. Although sometimes they could use the old cat-o'-nine-tails."
"Looks they get along pretty well with each other, considering."
"Funny you should say that, Soph. War or no, business is business. And it speaks loud across inter-House and cultural boundaries, no matter what petty conflict or disagreement happens to be tearing the Houses apart at present. Yep, when all's said and done, there's no better peace broker than the almighty credit."
The squeaky Nat timidly enters. "Excuse me, Captain Peterbilt."
Pete becomes annoyed. "What? What is it?"
"Mick and Junji are fighting again."
Pete groans loudly, then leaps to his feet. Nat cowers and scampers out with Pete behind him. Pete can then be heard bellowing, "Oi! I'm gonna knock your heads together."
He stalks back in plonks on the barstool. "Six bacon butties, if you please, Soph. No better make it seven. And put tomato sauce on one." He notices Sophie is giggling behind her hand. "What's so funny?"
"Captain Peterbilt?"
Pete assumes a modest expression. "It's only fitting. I'm a man of responsibility now. Actually it's only the kid who calls me that. I think he's continually terrified I'll cuff him round the ear." Pete cranes his neck and scans around the bar. "Now where's that slacker Derek?"
Derek walked in to the bar, just over hearing Pete talking to Sophie.
Damn it Pete, what have you gotten yourself in too? Like, that wouldnt of happened to be that crew you mentioned?
Long story
Heh, I got time.
Pete explained the same story he did to Sophie, about his new crew and getting back in to the old trading business.
Ha, looks like you got yourself tired up.
Sure do, but now what have you been up to all this time?
Oh, you know, just sitting on my loads of credits.
Pete raised his eyebrow while looking at Derek, Sophie running off to the broom closest again.
Im kidding, kidding! Just being doing the usual trade runs, been working for Samura and Bretonia lately. Moving that odd cargo they seem to love, but it makes the profit! Then of course got the girls back home.
Girls!?
Err, uhhh. Girls, ya Ehem, umm, oh look, drinks!
Sophie had just served the second drink Derek had ordered, he drank half of it down quickly hoping to avoid any questions.
You really got yourself caught up this time havent you?
Maybe?
Whatever happened to that GC tool you wanted?
She was never in to me, then kinda met Gab, totally lost track of the other.
Ha, do you ever bother trying to think about the girl or just going for the ride?
I think you know that answer to that one.
Pete laughed while taking a sip of his beer, coughing after forcing it down.
One of kind, Derek, one of a kind.
Eh, not for long. Kinda getting attached to this one.
Sophie burst out laughing from the other end of the table.
What?
*You settling down? Ha! Thats what you said about the Bretonian girl.*
Ah, quiet, she just wanted me in bed, now Ill do as I please!
Sophie kept laughing and walked down the table to serve another customer.
Guessing you havent been so lucky before?
Ya, that would be the best way to put it. But who cares! The ride was fun.
Err, keep that part to yourself, I dont wanna know.
Sophie disappears into the kitchen, and Pete drains his glass. "All this pleasant banter has made me rather parched. Oi Soph, another round if you please, my dear."
Sophie returns from the kitchen with six plates of steaming, greasy bacon butties balanced dexterously in hand. She plonks one in front of Pete. "I'll just take these out to your boys. They looked like they could chew a hole through the bulkhead."
"No that's all right, darl, you pull the beers. I'll take them out, I wanna check up on those swabs anyway." Pete clumsily takes the five plates off Sophie and shimmies out to the main bar.
After a half a minute Pete returns with five empty plates. He hands them back to Sophie. "Gee you're right, they were hungry." Pete licks his lips and tucks into his own sandwich.
"Now, Derek, Dez, son," Pete is jabbing his bacon butty at him, "I'm glad you're starting to settle down. I mean, that thing with the GC piece... strewth, you know what they do to men they catch trespassing in their territory? Put it this way, I think I'd rather have it slammed in a cargo hatch. God only knows what they'd do to someone engaged in the old --" he makes a lewd gesture "-- with one of their own." He shudders.
Sophie puts their drinks in front of them. "Pete, when you have quite finished! I think it's very sweet that Derek has found that special someone. We were all starting to get very concerned about you, hon."
Pete gulps down a mouthful of beer. "Exactly what I was saying! I mean, no offense Dez, but I'm just glad my wrench-wench was so covered in grime that not even you would give her a second look."
Sophie puts her hands on her hips. "Cabell Peterbilt! That's a horrible thing to say."
Pete hides behind his bacon butty. "Yes, well, moving right along... just before I arrived, I got a buzz from Aaron. Hope we'll see him in here propping up the bar some stage. And that daughter of his... well we won't go there. Oh yes, and it appears we have another new fella, someone named Ben. We'll have to give him the old 'trial by fire', heheh."
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