Brotherhood Bar-Talks

[Skyelius]

After having two or three bottles of rum that evening, old Emilio could barely stand and return to his house and dona Silvia, who in his drifting thoughts appeared as a roaring forest beast from which there's no escape.

"One mohr.. one mohrar.. *hic* ..otro trago, si?", he finally said.

"Usted esta loco, don Emilio. Your fights with your lady are gonna eat what's left of you. Think it over, okay?", Alonso stated.

-"N-n... okay, viejo."

Emilio de Jesus was a frequent customer and long-time buddy of the well-known Pedro Alonso. He had spent most of his savings on providing his children the best life he could, but his wife could not withstand having both live as drunken scallywags like her husband. "No, no, and no!", were the words Emilio heard at least once a week.

One night, dona Silvia sent Eduardito and Silverio off on a transport eventually headed towards Manhattan, using up almost every single credit in the family's account. Years later, news came from their children, and old Emilio could not bear having both his sons become simple traders.

"R-reh.. oye, Alonso!", he stated.

-"Diga usted..."

-"Otro trago, porf.. ph.. one more, please...", hardly putting on the face of a child who asks for permission.

-"Bah, que rayos. Here you go.. but I won't be explaining anything to your wife again if she catches you.", he stated.

-"Si, si...", and before swallowing the first shot of rum, he fell asleep on the counter.

A typical day at the Boozer's Lounge, it wasn't a surprise that Alonso began to serve drinks for a whole table all of a sudden. Shortly after returning to the counter, the nearby landing platform gently rocked the bar, and before long, a few pilots of The Brotherhood came in and sat on the table.

The loud vibrations also woke up Mr. de Jesus, who had been peacefully sleeping for more than five hours. Recognizing a few familiar faces, the 50-something year old (nobody knew his exact age) watched as one of his old friends and long-time wingleader of an extinct Legionnaire squadron walked towards him, over the ceiling...

"Manu!", Emilio shouted.

-"Como estas, Emilio?", Manuel replied.

-"Err... why are you up there?"

-"Up? Up where?"

-"Up.. upside down..."

-"........."

Overhearing a bit of the conversation, Elder Gonzales came to the scene, with a mere look attracting Alonso's attention. The friendly bartender grabbed a glass of cold water, and looked at old Emilio with a tired face.

"Don Emilio...", he said.

-"Aja?", was the reply.

All of a sudden, the old pirate nearly jumped off his seat, nearly tripping over Montoya and Skyelius, who were walking by, talking indistictively.

"Ey, don Alonso, careful with the tables; you might trip over something...", Sky said.

-"Buenas noches, mi buen amigo. Still here at this hour, eh? Silvia's going to rip our heads off; maybe you should get back home, hermano.", Montoya added.

-"Eh.. disculpen ustedes, mis amigos.", said Emilio.

-"Don't worry, my friend.", Gonzales acknowledged, heading back to his place.

Alonso went to the back to prepare a round of drinks for the new Gladiator pilots, a ship that began to acquire the nickname "Glade", as Skyelius put it. Both aces resumed the walk through the bar as Manuel whispered to Emilio...

"Oye, have you read the rumors about tons of weapons and equipment arriving at The Brotherhood hangars, but never coming out? Those two over there are planning something - look at them."

Both men watched as Juan and Sky turned towards them, waved, and continued chatting. The old Legionnaire pilots looked at each oher, and Manuel kept on wondering.

"Yeah, I'm sure. They're definitely up to something. especialy that Skyelius type. He's awfully suspicious. It also looks like Montoya's listening carefully. That never happens. And it's like - hey, are you listening to me?"

"...oh perfecto, gracias.", don Emilio stares at the rum, and then realizes that Manuel was talking to him.

"What's that, Manu?", he asked.

"Santo Dios..."

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"It is a cold universe until you know God as your Father, and then it becomes a home. Even the next life simply becomes the Father's house, home."
—David Pawson