Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Commissar]

"Close enough, wasn't I Sir? Come on, from memory, that's still pretty darn good." Jane laughed, the sound seeming more to scratch its way out of her throat. "And fights? Not often. 'less you're the sort of idiot who walks in a uniform. That's only the Army boys though."

It was good to be back among servicemen. To a civilian the constant bickering over which branch was superior would've seemed downright spiteful. Amongst the soldiers, it was really just a running joke, the sort that was only funny by virtue of repitition. Boy was it repeated. There'd been a period on basic where Jane had taken to counting the slurs. Around three an hour, average.

"See?" She gestured at Sius' handheld. "They always get the cool toys. Raid Rheinland? Shove over." The Xeno relocated her chair, wedging it between an impolitely placed table and the Lieutenant Commander's seat, before sinking into it to watch the show.

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