Wearing a baseball cap and a worn leather jacket, Alvin Katz didn't look the imposing symbol of the Coalition he had become. A few grey hairs poking out from under the cap, a few fine lines and wrinkles around his eyes, and the weight of the Worker's struggle for Sirius weighing down upon him.
He was the leader of the Coalition now, Premier and Party Chairman, the visionary that guided the SCRA and the Coalition.
The Storm class gunboat powered down, having made the unobserved trip, slipping through Bretonia undetected and unobserved. The elements of his personal bodyguard fanning out around the docking bay at Med Force One.
They were equally out of uniform, but the heavy SMGs they carried, along with their dark sunglasses, marked them as Spetznas, nothing was going to happen to the Premier on their watch.
Katz inclined his head as he led the way through the mobile freeport, flashing his diplomatic papers to the dockmaster, who just about spat his coffee across the deck when he realized who was on the station.
"Sir... I mean... welcome... errr...."
Katz's bodyguards gently pushed the man out of the way as Katz entered the elevator, his guards following to secure the path to the bar.
Once inside the rather strange place, Katz twisted his lip a little.
Katz selected a booth and ordered a cup of coffee, his men making a screen discretely around the bar, watching the crowd.
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Little was made of the Premier's visit. The patrons knew where they were and went about their drinks and conversations. The piano player continued his soft backround music, a piece by Vivaldi.
Doc entered the archway to the bar, still in his Doctor's whites, his stethoscope around his neck. A Klingon guard at the archway stopped him and informed him of his guest. Doc gave him a handshake and made his way to the booth where his friend was sitting. A few steps away, he called a young, red headed woman to him.
"Doreen, he's on my tab and um, try keeping this area clear." She just nodded and went about her business.
He then sat opposite of Alvin after a hand shake.
"My compliments to you, Alvin," he said, "I was at your refugee colony today. Well done, my friend. A very happy group there."
A glass of Scotch over Ice arrived and was placed in front of Doc, "If your men need anything, all they need do is ask. Besides surgeons, nurses and ship staff and a Klingon security group, you will see little to worry about."
He took a sip of his drink and then leaned on the table, his drink before his clasped hands, "something tells me you are here for business more than pleasure. What's on your mind?"
"Aside from... visiting that Strip club up in Baffin..." KAtz shook his head... "I do hope Miodroi doesn't catch you there... No I was supervising the arrival of a wing of our Bombers to support your..." he waved a hand... "Business too much business. How have you been old friend?"
Katz ordered his usual coffee, and took a seat in one of the comfy chairs.
"The thing I need to discuss is actually Order business... they need an asteroid moved... and aside from the IMG, I think the Zoners are the best bet to get it done." He slid a data pad across the table. "they're looking to move this to Tau-31..."
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Doc, frustrated, pounded his Scotch and asked for another. He was silent as he waited, overwhelmed with emotion and he was doing a poor job hiding it.
"I am tired, Alvin," he said, placing his hands around his glass, "I am tired...tired of it all. I have Outcasts waging war with me, a group of extremists doing the same for whatever the reason and Gallic Royals who carry grudges hundreds of years old wanting to kill us...."
He again sighed and took a swig of his Scotch. He then slid his datapad to him, "look at this garbage!" http://discoverygc.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=79249
He took another swig, he then looked around the ship he had built from a dream and finished off his Scotch, "..just sick of it. All of this for nothing. Why do you think I closed Baffin?"
He then looked into Alvin's face, "right now, I don't think the Zoners can safely do anything," as he tapped Alvin's datapad with the information on it.
Doreen placed another glass of Scotch before him and walked away to continue with her patrons. He leaned on his folded arms, a few inches closer to his friend, "I opened an old chest of mine today," he began, "it had my pistol belt with both of my old pistols on it. They still work perfectly and have modified ammunition and dammit I still sling a quick gun." He then leaned back, put on his Cheshire cat smile and took a swig of his Scotch, "maybe it's time that I go back to the way I once was, as much the scoundrel as many of these very people that I disapprove of are now." The smile then ran from his face, "Those robes I wore, these whites I wear now have little meaning."
He then sat back, his drink surrounded by his hands.
"I unleashed the Mongolian today..." Katz's eyes flicked away. "There are those that believe he is the last surviving Sol Coalition Pilot... others think him nothing but a demented psychopath... and still others believe him to be nothing but a myth... it is something I am going to regret, I know... but the times we live in, John, they're changing all of us."
He half closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "What the hell happened to us? I remember being idealistic, and had faith in the universe at large... now I am what, exactly?" he shook his head.
He drew quiet for a minute, introspective.
"Baffin is safe, Freeport One is safe, my men are close by and they are winning as many engagements as they can, against superior numbers and firepower... there are good Coalition men and women dying there so that the Zoners can preserve the ideals that make them what they are..." he coughed. "I am not sending them to die for no reason. Your a man of peace, John... make peace here. We will fight with you, but you will find a way... No Capitulation... they may take your space, they may take your lives... but don't let them take away that which makes you who you are... don't let them rob you of your ideals."
Leon Mendel hated security detail. His job was usually somewhat different. Of course, he hated his usual job too. For the most part, he was very bitter about most things. As he very blatantly leered at the young lady serving drinks, he snatched a file from one of the Premier's guards, guzzling his coffee as he did so.
He made a frantic attempt to put a cigarette to his mouth with the hand that was still holding the file, awkwardly trying to light it with the hand holding the coffee. He sighed in an exasperated fashion, looking up at some of the muscle that came along as security.
"Well?!"
The response was slow and measured, taking some time, in spite of it only being a single word answer.
"...Sir?"
Leon shook his head, furious, and finished off his drink, cigarette precariously hanging out of one side of his mouth. He then handed the mug to the admittedly pretty girl, and proceeded to light his smoke.
"Finally."
He stood, file in hand, watching the two statesmen, his face not betraying any sign of respect. All it showed was impatience, boredom and irritability. He kept quiet as he stood, tapping one foot, eyebrow raised. This was going to be a terrible day.
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Doc just put on his Cheshire cat grin and then downed his Scotch, ordering another,
"Yes, Alvin, I am a man of peace which is why I did this earlier today.
*he then pulls out his datapad and pushes a button, a broadcast beginning over the entire ship*
As it goes on, all talk stops and only the monitors are heard. Once it is complete, everyone in the Lounge stares at him in total shock.
"Alvin, there will be a time, my friend, but I must stop the bloodshed of the Zoners and Coalition alike....my way."
He then stands up slowly and slowly walks through the lounge while all heads turn and watch. Half way, another doctor approaches.
"John, you can't do this! We need you!" he says but Doc only begins to walk. The doctor grows angry, "Dammit, John, don't you understand that they'll kill you?"
He only turned and said, "en meuse requiescat " The doctor only stood angry yet silent.
He left the doorway and turned down the hall. Before he disappeared from view, his tears were visable.
Alvin Katz leaned back in his chair, watching the elder statesman leave the lounge, glancing over at Mendel in concern.
He blew out a sigh, standing up and rubbing his gray temples, things had just become a lot harder for everyone.
Motioning for the guards to move out, he fell into step along side the Commissar for Public Relations and the one man he trusted to always tell him the uncensored truth.
"Well this is going to put a strain on things," he murmured to Mendel. "The Zoners are stretched tighter than a drum, and the one person that holds them back from Empires and Wars just walked out. This is going to end badly, for whom I don't know. But one thing is for sure, the Zoners are never going to be the same."
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