The Alcatraz depot lounge and pub

[ryeguy146]

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Dervin smeared the wine from his face with a shirtsleeve as he listened to Claymore speak. He let the
words pass him by, off in a drug addled world of his own. Malfient's thoughts flew at a cardamine
induced pace as he considered the proposal.

"Rocs." Dervin stated simply, echoing the man's suggestion. "Now that would make sense, wouldn't it?
I've actually been considering something like an unmarked wing for some time. It would simplify
some of our operations in tentative areas. Hunting weapon dealers and the like. Assassinations."
He removed his packet of orange powder from a pocket and renewed his roll with a quick snort.

"To say the least, I'm interested. And while I like Rocs fine and good, I'll be leaving the issue of
vessel selection up to those of my boys that join in the fun. I assume that so long as we've the
firepower of the group, a single fighter wouldn't be an issue. And perhaps useful for interdiction
and such..." He trailed off, returning to the world inside his head for some time.

"Yes. It will be done." He stood up and added, "I'll be in touch," before turning to leave.