Fine on the spot

[Sol]

A Liberty vessel approaches the station, appearing out of the misty clouds, bumping to the small rocks as it tries to speed past them. It's being followed by a couple of sabres along with some smoke and fire that come out of its left wing.

"Oeey! Leave me alone, already! I'll fine you later if you want to... I am late, goddamit!" the pilot shouts over the radio, the sabres ignore him, and continue to spit orange flame towards his tail.

"Open up! Barrier!" the pilot makes circles around the hangar bays, trying to dodge the sabres' meanwhile.

"Do not approach the station while you're in an engagement, Liberty Navy, we don't want any trouble here," the tower personnel reply. But the Navy Guardian speeds towards a hangar door, which is sliding open for another ship already.

"I'll take that..." the navy pilot grins as he speeds past a poor freelancer waiting for his turn to dock, into the half open hangar bay. He can barely slow down his ship as he's about to crash into the docks, but he manages to catch the landing pad accurately enough, through what seems like sheer luck only.

As he opens the cockpit and jumps out of his ship, smoke flush out with him. The dock personnel rush to his side, and immediately start to tend to the flaming ship.

The pilot coughs and dissipates the smoke from his face with a motion of his hand. He's wearing his Liberty Navy uniform still, with dancing shoes, a red rose in his pocket on his chest. He walks nonchalantly away from his burning ship towards the station security who rush to greet him.

"Don't worry, I'll pay the fine, whatever it is... Meanwhile... tell me which way is the bar, my good man," he pats on the shoulder of the security officer and smiles to him. The guy looks back, narrowing his eyes, trying to make sense of this man.

They pull him from his shoulders and take him into custody for questioning.
----

Later than two hours to the agreed time, the naval pilot appears finally in the bar. The rose in his pocket had already started to wither, looking a darker red.

He takes the rose out from his pocket, and shakes it to the bartender, right on his nose.