The Bornholm Chop Shop

[onca]

~John McIntyre Thomas III, aka 'Scrapper John', glides his Eagle into Bornholm depot. Carbonised pits on the hull bespeak of long chases through heavy rad zones, blasting bogies and banging off asteroids. As the docking bay doors close behind him and the engines turn cool, John hops out and addresses the ground crew~

"Alright you lot, I gotta hold full of.... stuff for the lockup. And don't drop them for chrissake! Otherwise your fatherin' days will be over."

~In the bar~ "Where the hell is Tex? Said he'd be here, and wake him if there's anything happening."

~There's a yellow post-it note stuck to Tex's regular barstool~ "What's this? Trouble in Liberty...."

~Back in the hangar~ "You blokes finished unloading yet? Good. Don't worry about scrubbing the burn marks off the paint job, lads, I'm off to Texas. There's trouble a-transpirin'!!"