Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Commissar]

Jane flicked through the images Patterson'd handed her. Most of it was the sort of stuff she would have expected to see on a promotional video, she skipped those as quickly as the device would allow. She lingered on the photos of the crew, most of them in their early twenties. Proud, devoted, some things carried across the service well enough. With the enlisted troopers, at any rate. Officers were usually a little different. Present company excluded.

"You mentioned it, Commander. Don't think you mentioned why you hang around us though. Could lose you your job." The woman chuckled drily, evidently she didn't expect an answer.

"Major Patterson, Commander Sius. Sure you'll all get along like a house on fire." She glanced around the bar, ignoring the suddenly hostile gaze of a few patrons. The Xeno wasn't overly worried. It was Barrier Gate, anyone keen for a fire fight would lose drinking privileges for at least a month. For most, the threat of sobriety would've been enough to have them shoot their grandmother.

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May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |