McCool's Tavern - Freeport 1

[Dane Summers]

The last few weeks, things had changed for Dane.
Something in the core of the spirit of him had finally been snuffed out, but been relit by a completely different fire. A change that had been long resisted, finally taking hold.

For someone who had once found it sad that people in this universe had to kill each other for any reason, Dane had taken to being a fighter pilot with vigor, and had even claimed kills. He poured over ship spec's, weapon performance tables, at the same time signing forms for citizenry applications, and resettling all the former citizens, now back from there vacations. A lot choose to stay - but the activity had blossomed on what was once a quiet station. Now, it felt busy, but still cozy. Soldiers and Mercenaries still called the place home. Freeport One had changed just as much as Dane had.

A bit out of breath, he slid into the booth, hand carrying the bottle of amber gold, along with a pair of rocks glasses, a bucket of ice, and a chilled bottle of cola.

"Sorry about the wait. My job never ends, heh"

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