George Patton Grainger enters the bar for the first time in his career. He usually hangs out at the bars around Manhattan but today he is here to celebrate his recent promotion.
He is often told that he is not like the other agents, not as... secluded...as the others are, with friends reaching far into the omicrons and Gallia, he is widely respected. He looks around at his new surroundings and sees some familiar faces and some unfamiliar. The new recruits are goofing off at a table while the veterans share stories of times pass.
George takes a seat at table by himself, he never really knew anyone in the LSF that well and those he did know have left for their own reasons. He orders the heaviest drink on the station, alcohol is known not to affect him. As he sits he pull out his data pad and begins to check his mail. Although he is not well known in the LSF he always seems to get caught in the middle of historical events between the LSF and the rest of Sirius. His recent encounter with a nomad leaves him wondering.
George leans back and takes a heavy sniff of the surrounding area...alchol. As he watches the ice crystals float past the window he wonders at what the universe will throw at him next.
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