Brotherhood Bar-Talks

[Wingnut]

Les strolled from the hangar to the bar while smoking one of the cigars always present in the breast pocket of his flight suit. It had been awfully quiet in Gamma of late during his time in the cockpit.

Another figure brushed passed him at the entrance of the bar, so quiet that he could not discern his steps on the rock floor. A coldness followed in his wake and Les felt himself nearly overcome by sudden fear. For a long moment he just stood at the door until the tip of his cigar brushed one of his fingers and snapped him out of the daze.

"What the...!?" Moore whirled around. The figure was gone but the coldness lingered. With a grunt he turned back and entered the bar. The expressions on faces that were not starring intently at their drinks confirmed he was not the only one to experience what just happened.

Gentle sat at a table by himself and appeared unaffected. Perhaps he was in the bathroom when whatever happened, happened.

At another table Elder Montoya looked quite disturbed although he was composing himself much better than others.

Les was curious about what was going on, but a part of him really didn't want to know. Perhaps a drink. He signaled to the bartender who placed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the bar. Taking the bottle and glasses the red-bearded Corsair seated himself at the table across from Juan. He poured both glasses half full of whiskey and slid one in Juan's direction.

"Maybe this will help," said Les peering at the Elder and puffing his cigar.