GC Tea House

[Ironwatsas]

Several Weeks Later...

The Holiday season had died down, and Ainu and the Tea house returned to it's SNAFU existance. The Watsas contued to plot his various schemes for the takeover of the Sirius sector. Naomi was still lonely, complaining about the inferiorities of men. \CS\-Steve was womanising as he always did, and all was well with the world.

Until now...

The battered and smouldering hulk of a barely functional Combat Service Vehicle landed abruptly in the Ainu hangar bay, smashing into Watsas own parked Wrath, before sliding to an abrupt halt in the center of the bay. Clearly, the ship had been in a fight, and lost miserably. It appeared to be a Junker vessel of standard configuration. Armed with salvage-grade Barrager cannons and a jury-rigged missile launcher, even the most simple of opposition would find it easy prey.

The lone pilot climbed out of what remained of the cockpit. Apparently unfazed by the state of his ship. The appeared as if he had climbed out of an old western, middle aged and dressed in a plaid shirt, blue jeans, cowboy boots complete with spurs, a brown duster, and a Stetson hat. He looked at the ship with dismay, before proceeding to swat away some of the Consortium hovercameras programmed to conduct strutural analysis of returning ships.

Failing that, the man, clearly a Junker of some sort, strode to the Tea House to get a drink and rest...

Walking into the bar, he spotted only a few GC in the bar that early in the morning. Naomi was asleep in a padded chair near the holovision, as a result of a bit too much Cardamine. \CS\-Steve was manning the bar, and several other GC pilots and personell were scattered about, watching the holovision.

"Well Howdy, ladies." The Junker said, removing his Hat out of politeness.

"Oh, Hello there. Might I get you something from the bar?" Steve replied.

"Tall glass o' whiskey. Need to get mah head clear after 'dem Farmer types ripped mah ship up. Y'know?" The man said, sitting down in one of the chairs at the bar.

Steve nodded and got the man a tall glass of whiskey, as requested. Upon reciving the glass, the man began drinking it down, occasionally looking back and forth around the bar.

Naomi grumbled and awoke a few minuites later, and stumbled over to the bar, taking a seat next to the Junker. "Steve. Glass of water. Chop-chop."

Steve nodded and obliged as Naomi hung her head down, clearly suffering a hangover. "And a bit of Cardi, please..."

"Well howdy miss? Ya'll alright?" The Junker asked

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me... wait who are you?!" Naomi asked. Now realising this man was not a regular supplier.

"Well, I'm a Junker. Ih Junk things..." He replied, a bit buzzed from the whiskey.

"That dosen't help me a lot. How do I know you're not a spy?" Naomi asked annoyadly

"Yeah... just tell us your name." Steve replied politely

"Well... ehh... Mah name..." The drunken Junker replied

Naomi grumbled in frustration.

The Junker stared at the cieling for a few seconds before remembering, and inadvertantly opening a whole new chapter of tourment for the Tea House and it's populace.

"Oh Right! Mah name is CobaltWatsas... Pleased to meet ya'll."

---

All that begins must end.