Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Commissar]

Sarah nodded cheerfully, the comment completely failing to dampen her enthusiasm.
"Apocalyptic? By the way you're dressed I'd say the apocalypse has already come and gone. Besides, she gestured toward the dress. "It's a special occasion."

She either didn't notice or purposely ignored the figure's knife, instead turning her attention to the pair approaching the table. Aigis was fair knocked off her feet by the hug Sarah delivered, the girl was a little surprised to find herself looking her friend in the eyes. All their previous conversations had been carried out over shipboard systems, she'd always imagined Aigis as being a little taller. Perhaps Sarah herself had grown a few centimetres. The engineer glanced at Lyra, trying to convey her gratitude. Hopefully some of it got through.

"I'm not sure I called for one, but we've got one now... Well, almost." She paused, a glimmer of concern passing over her face. Where on earth was Jeff? Sarah hoped he hadn't found another battleship to annoy. Some habits really weren't good for your health. Her eyes snapped back up as the girl remembered her manners.

"Oh, sorry! Umm..." She paused again, trying to think of a name she could use. Her eyes glinted in amusement, one having finally come to mind. "Dirus, meet Aigis." Sarah nodded toward the white-haired figure she'd just disentangled herself from. "And Lyra." Presumably the second woman.

"Alice was supposed to send someone too." The engineer gave a casual shrug. "Aw well. They can catch up, I guess." She concluded, lowering herself back into the seat.

The girl pressed a few buttons on her dented wrist-computer, scanning hundreds of files. Most were civilian ship plans, parts and various other goodies. Precious few were photos or videos of her family, a handful of them collected since her departure. Public news networks were good for something it seemed. The thought of her family drew Sarah's hand to her neck, unconsciously checking for the presence of a locket. Still there. She returned her eyes to the screen. Barely ten per cent.

"Really should update this sometime..." She muttered as she lowered the computer, placing her hands back on her lap.

"You know about the Nomad War, right?"

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May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |