Odd Company

[Victor Steiner]

It had been a long time since Skirka had been to Gran Canaria, not since the occupation. Arriving on the landing pad he was greeted by a a city who had moved on since Bretonia's little foray into the Omega regions, although the signs of their being there were still around, anti Bretonian posters, defunct machine gun positions and a few abandoned warehouses were visible off in the distance, repurposed for whatever the locals needed no doubt. His new 'friend', if that was the appropriate term, wasn't to be seen, he assumed she was in the bar waiting for him, although he hadn't the faintest idea what she looked like and natives of Crete were not exactly uncommon in these parts.

He made his way over to the Bar building, years of loyal service quite obvious as he entered and walked over to the bar, fighting was uncommon here but not unheard of, if the guards walking around were anything to go by. He asked for a drink and despite the barman giving him a foul look on the account of his accent decided to serve him all the same. Looking around he could see wealth of multicultural people, Zoners being the largest group but there were Cretans, Hessians, Coalition pilots on break from patrol, a handful of unnecessarily loud Libertonians and even a Kusarian man who was obviously far too drunk. He spotted a quiet booth and quickly claimed it for himself. He watched, although he didn't know what he was watching for, a woman...not that that narrowed it down at all. Sipping his drink he wondered if Gran Canaria would have ever found its place within Bretonia, if they decided to stay. He believed it could have, but in doing so would probably have sacrificed everything that made Canaria...well, Canaria.

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