Ian watched the new arrival with interest, taking a sip of Whiskey before turning to him and stating, not asking... "You're Captain Theobald Franklin." Catching a suspicious glance from the bartender, he continued in as if speaking to an old friend. "I figured I might have luck finding you here in the bar, given the circumstances...but it looks like you've found me instead."
He momentarily eyed the bartender contemptuously, sipped his Whiskey again, and turned back to Theobald.
Seeing what he assumed was a depressed look on the Captain's face, Ian continued. "Just got in with my crew. Walked over and saw your ship before coming to the bar.
Gotta say, she looks pretty bad from the outside, can't imagine inside fared any better.
I've called on Rob Ross, as I mentioned I might in our previous communications. He should be useful in getting the old girl up to snuff faster.
He's agreed to bring 17 of his best engineers and technicians, or at least, he sounded like he agreed.
They'd be handling the hull and armor repairs while I handled the engines and the systems, the power core, et cetera.
That is -- if we reach an agreement. Wouldn't want to step on any toes. I imagine your people aren't too keen on having Junkers repair what a Junker broke.
My crew and engineers said I'm stark raving mad when I told them we'd be repairing a vessel that was attacked by a Junker. But then, they think I'm mad anyhow."
He said all this very fast, then let out a noise that was somewhere between a nervous laugh and a cough, before downing the rest of his Whiskey in one.
The bartender glanced suspiciously at him again, but didn't say anything.
Looking thoughtfully down into his now empty glass he plowed on, though not speaking as quickly. "We can start whenever you'd like, though I imagine you'd like to come to my bridge and have the glass of Whiskey I promised. There, we can discuss things further..."
His voice trailed off and became awkward as he noticed the drink Theobald already had.
