The doors crashed open and Aubrey Mainwaring raced in, looking dishevelled. His face white with shock.
"I say, chaps" he shouted
"I've just heard about Brock - can it be true?"
One look at the grim faces told him the truth. It was like a physical blow. Losing such a dashing leader that he admired so much. The young man collapsed on a seat next to a grizzled veteran in a BAF flyingsuit. He put his head down, shoulders shaking. The older man pushed a glass of malt into his hands.
"Here, toff. Get it down yer. We got some drinking to do. Brock wouldn't have it any other way"
It was a while since Sir Roger had slummed it. He much preferred the officers' club on the Derby, but the Crown and Coin was his crew's favourite retreat.
He looked at the large forthy pint of ale before him.
"Issa pint, mate." Doherty was slurring.
Brinkley sipped it. It was like horse urine.
"Thassit me old mucker, drin' kup. Hic."
Brinkley rolled his eyes and lit his pipe. It was going to be a long evening.
Fortunatus burst through the doors of the Crown and Coin. He'd not visited the place since the loss of Isaac Brock, and it was time to dispell that demon. Strolling up to the bar he spotted Sir Andrew Stuart, ingratiating himself upon a couple of the youger female officers.
"Andrew! Bloody hell Andrew, you'll never believe what they've gone and done! They've only gone and made me a blasted Knight of the Realm! Me!! Sir Fortunatus bloody Wright! Why'd they have to go and do that to me, Andrew? Am I supposed to become respectable now?" He turned to the barman. "A bottle of Ballantine's single malt, George. I'm either celebrating, or drowning my sorrows, and Andrew, here, and these two lovely young ladies," and indeed they were lovely, "are going to help me. Sod it, make that two bottles!"
Serg is sitting in front of the bartender, already drunked. His faces is rather tired but sometimes he seems to be happy, especially when he tries to explain something boisterously to the bartender.
It was something like that.
- Yeah, and you know what? This guy! He was a gaian! Those hipies, yeah, they are nice guys sometimes, but mos tof them are just bloody terrorists, nothing humane. So, they were never able to bit me before! But now, ha! He blasted my ship in a few minutes, i was shocked! I said to him "Hey, boy, you're a good fighter!" And do YOU know what he had answered? "No, i'm not!" You got it? What happened during this time? Am i became a weaker fighter, or maybe those bloody pirates suddenly learned how to fight? Hey, do you wanna heard a big secret? I seems to be the worst fighter in the division! The only thing which i do good is dodging! Ha, dodging! You see? Well at least my life will be long, haha! But it's cause that bloody wound? Oh, how the hell i hate it... but now... No, our doctors are really good fellas. Sometimes i think - This is a mirracle! But well, i'm healthy again! And i can fly!
- Oh, yeah, you're right i'm rather drunk. But still... what? Oh do you know where i was two months before? They prescribed me to go to some Cambridge health resort, but, what the hell i had some money and a starflier and do you know where i went? What? Ha, no, i hate Spa-n-Cruise, i do hate Baden-Baden! But you're almost right, i had gone to Rheinland... i have a cousin there, he's working at Kruger. He recommended me one nice place, just for me. Guess what? Munich system, planet Nuremberg! *in a whisper* They have some strange substance in the air... some hallucinogen... it works like marijuana, but it's more more better... and fascinating.. they have some special staff, nice guys, in the gas mask, special outfit, etc. They kinda looking for tourist not to gain some crititcal brain damage... And we lived where, there was a special city, almost like some small town in Cambridge, really. Yeah, it was thrilling! *loudly* Give me some more beer, my dear fella! Yeah, 0.5 will be enough.
- And you know, about this bloody politics... i don't like to talk about rumours.. Hell no, i do like rumours! But don't you noticed one strange moment here?
Serg stood up, slightly swinging and loudly gave a shout:
- Hey, Ensign! Ensign, come up to me!
Nobody reacted. Serg turned to the bartender.
You see? There is no any ensigns here. Some lieutenants, only. And some commodores and captains can visit this place.. You got it? There is no any nice lads here to chat with! And what i'll also say to you... yeah, i'm not some public speaker, i'm not a good speaker at all. But what i wann say.. our politics are great! Our Queen is magnificent! Our Admirals are.. cool, huh. You know i like this guy, Andrew Stuart he seems to be the most genious man here. Everything is good here, except of... realisation. We have everything. But that's not enough! We should get more! Well, yeah, my friend, i must go i should leave you? Wha~? Oh, yeah, good luck to you too. Goodbye!
And he left.
Nothing special, though. You can meet this man here anytime .
Tom was sitting on the floor in the corner grinning to himself, the training had gone amazingly bad for the past two days.
first he had kept getting blown up, at the same time as his enemy, once, twice, a third time.
the next day was worse.
he had decided to try a new manuver, however whenever he used it, he would mess it up somehow and get
blasted.
it had not gone well.
however, today had shaped up nicely.
he had stopped a smuggler in dublin, the foolish junker was trying to smuggle weapons to the molly base in dublin.
now he was just starting to work of the effects of 7 pints of beer. it was hard work.
it was even harder to think straight after he had heard a rumer that meny of the ensigns were going to get promoted to leutenent.
it was hard work.
tom fell asleep.
the bartender grinned, and then filled another tankerd with beer. walked over to tom, and put the tankerd at his feet.
"can't hurt him more then the hangover" said the bartender to himself.
in his sleep, tom grinned.
' Wrote:<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>
The clinking of glasses and the murmuring voices of relaxing pilots was suddenly interrupted by a thud outside the bar. Sitting there was a Bretonian gunboat captain who had been captured by the KNF during a battle in Tau 31 two days earlier, unconscious but breathing. In his hand was a hastily scribbled note.
It read:
Daniel: Excuse Me, Have you seen a man named Peter?
Bartender: I believe I did boy. hey... are you new here?
Daniel: No, but can you tell him I was here?
Bartender: Sure can stranger!
Daniel: Thanks!
Bartender: Yourwelcome!
*Watching this scene with Danial and the Bartender and thinking about if he can strike him right now or if he should wait a minute and hit him only then. Though, after the second glass of beer he successfully forgot his intentions*
*The reason? Hey why does he need some? Well, truly the reason is - he was temporaly discharged from the patrols due to some problems with his vessel...*
Oh my gott, so stupid, this is just equipment! Hey, maybe i still should hit him? Just a bit? Would he be against this small strike?
The door creaked open, and Jones walked in. As usual, he seemed half asleep. However, today he was smiling slightly. He was followed by his copilot, Hawkins. Hawkins went straight to the bar, while Jones found a dingy table and sat down, placing his head in his hands. He sneezed violently, causing a few heads to turn his way, before resting his head on his hands again. A soft clunk brought him to his senses, as Hawkins placed two pints of beer on the table and sat down.
"Something bothering you Jonesy?", he asked, before taking a sip of his beer.
"Nothing much, I'm just tired"
" That was quite a scrap with that Hacker gunship today wasn't it?"
"Aye, but we've been in worse, remember that fight outside New London?"
"Yeah, no reinforcements in sight, and three bloody idiots shooting at us"
"Aye. At least Carter was around this time."
"And bloody useful he was too. Without him, we'd probably be floating in space"
Jones finished his beer and got up, almost banging his head on one of the low beams, before walking out of the pub, calling to Hawkins "Put the next couple of drinks on my tab, you've earned them. Don't drink too much though, we've got the early patrol tomorrow"
as he talked to sevaral of his fellow pilots, he thught about how things had gone for the past few weeks.
he had been refueling his ship on glasgow.
then, the unthinkable had happond.
the knf had invaded all of upper leeds. he had ended up fighting hand to hand combat against the KNF marines. using a wrench, and a piece of brokan metal. it had gone wrong very quickly. he had been captured by the kusari marines. after getting marched back to a transport, he managed to grab a pistol out of one of the guard holsters. the guard noticed that his prisoner had taken his gun the guard started to yell, tom had no choice but to shoot him.
tom shot him. twice.
tom quickly found the keys to the handcuffs taht the guard had placed on him. as he stood over the dead guard, all he could think was: what a waste. he then had proceeded to make his way to the transport's bridge. he shot everyone on the bridge. he stood there. staring at the corpse's. and then....
tom shuddered. he stopped trying to remember what had gone on after killing the crew......
he ordered another beer. his drink came. he drank the pint in two gulps. a new pilot came over and asked him:" err.... leutenent. i heard that you were on glasgow when the KNF attacked."
tom ignored him for a moment before realizing who the ensign was talking to. tom turned to him and said:"yes. ask me again later. after i'm sober." ..the ensign thught about that for a moment before it clicked. the leutenent was telling him to come back tommorrow.
tom ordered another drink.
' Wrote:<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>
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