Leon Mendel shuffled in, puffing on some of his favourite smokes. He preferred the harsh Coalition standard-issue rolling tobacco to the stuff he could get in Liberty. Most didn't, but he was different in that respect.
He was pissed off, he hadn't had a coffee all day, and wasn't setting foot in that establishment from Ontario when he was off-duty.
Sure, he had effectively accomplished a series of high-class public relations stunts, but he was edgy. His charge, the politician-cum-officer, Citizen Katz, was involved in some serious sh*t right now, and he didn't trust the likes of Totenkopt and Weise to keep him safe. Maximilian was okay, but didn't fill him with the confidence he needed.
These bastards that Katz was up against didn't tend to have their plans unravelled by smear campaigns and meet-and-greets. Awkward alien arseholes.
He grew more edgy, not helped by the fact that people in the silent bar were beginning to stare at him as he smoked without a drink.
"Gimme a f*ckin' vodka already then! Do I look like I'm here to rescue kittens or something?!"
Mendel was stared down for a moment by the barman. That sort of crap might work in Liberty, but not here.
It didn't, at least until he removed his longcoat, revealing his uniform, placing his hat on his head, indicating that he was a duly feared Commissar of the SCRA.
The vodka appeared and those staring at him immediately had something much better to do, someone quickly turning on a song to cover the awkward atmosphere.
Leon sat on a barstool, placing his large calibre pistol on the bar before him. It didn't look like he'd be paying for his drink.
He knocked his vodka back, grimacing slightly. He didn't drink much liquor these days.
"Get me a coffee, and liquor it up with whatever paint-removing piss you're pouring there."
He lit up yet another smoke, not offering one to anyone, largely due to the fact that everyone was avoiding him, also because he wasn't a goddamn charity.
Now, he had to work out how to deal with aliens. Aliens. Bloody aliens. He figured that good old-fashioned genocide might work. After all, ethnic cleansing was fascist, of course, but aliens were a species as opposed to an ethnicity, so it could get a positive spin later on.
Leon smiled. He could put a positive spin on anything, even genocide. He sat and wondered, cradling his drink, how bad things would be if someone like him were on the wrong side...
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