A foreign figure, bizarre yet familiar to the locals, steps into the area where the bar is located. His weathered robes mark him as someone who's not much into a fighting lifestyle like the majority of the other pilots lounging in the zone, but at the same time does not have the image of a landlubber.
Shimonoseki Ueno
Ueno had just returned from his discussions with the harbourmasters. That the situation had escalated to the point where the wharehouses were being used for war supplies and assisting medical efforts did not sit well with him, as his ship cargo of canned Kusari fish and Sorted Artifacts had to sit in the hold until the crisis passed, or he sold them elsewhere. Being sympathetic to the situation, he threw those concerns away and decided it was time to chat with the locals a bit.
He quickly glanced at the selection the bartender had at his disposal, and made a note on what was noticeably lacking in terms of flavor or quality. After a quick chat with the man, he took out a medium bottle of some average sake from the Honshu breweries, and bartered it for two bottles of the rheinbeer of the house. With two bottles in hand, he started looking for a place to rest his butt.
The counter was quite occupied with a pair of loudmouths who were arguing about some bet for some lady panties or similar trophy, and the rest by almost a full squadron who seemed grumpy, due to their ships being grounded on the base for taking too much flak thrown at them in the last sortie.
He moved around, following the motions, and found a seat on a table nearby the though looking rheinland woman that had also just found a place to crash. The lady on the other seat of the table seemed a bit flustered by the new arrivals, but Ueno had no way to discern why.
Setting a bottle on the table and taking a sip on the other, he took some time to check for familiar faces...