Ben walked into Kalashnikov's, having recently gotten back from Omicron Minor, he had dark bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept very much for quite some time, his black Uniform sporting it's Captain insignia and a TT-33 at his side, a radical change from when he first came in here with a Lt rank and a combat knife...
He weaved through the patrons, various people from all over Sirius, Corsairs, Libertonians, Rheinlanders, native Coalition, A few Bretonians, even acouple Kusari, Ben finally made it to the Bartender and gave a nod.
"Vodka, Neat." he requested, his tone suggesting he was somewhat tired and stressed, when he received his beverage he took a small drink from it, trying to savor it and melt his troubles away. His duties as the Commandate was difficult at times, lots of paperwork, dealing with the common people of Sirius, Aliens intent on doing nasty things to you... A small chuckle is heard as he shakes his head...Reminded him of Liberty somehow...
As he stood at the Bar, drinking his Vodka in peace and trying to relax he thought of Liberty, wondering how it was faring in this most recent Ion Storm...