Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Osilon]

In the misty clouds surrounding Barrier Gate, a strange craft settled just out of range. Sleek, copper-colored metal, woven into brilliant smooth lines that were common only in artistic Gallia. From the bottom, however, a much more common ship detatched; the X-shuttle racing towards the asteroid base.
Soon, the pilot entered the bar, wearing a long, black dress which seperated at the waist into four different segments, allowing the wearer to run or fight in all ease. Her long black hair extended to the small of her back, and her fair complexion making it clear (to any who had spent time among the northern areas of Sirius) that she was Gallic. Glancing around, the oddity became apparent- Her eyes were a brilliant crimson, like rubies, and she didn't seem to focus on anyone in particular. As she walked through the entrance, she seemed to be talking with what appeared to be some sort of small, hovering drone.
"Non, Hex...We could not 'ave made it far with that sort of speed, not even you could accomplish it."
"But Mon Reine, the reactor will be finished in-"
"But nothing, Hex-Cinq. It is not possible."
Wandering up to the bar, she glanced awkwardly to the bartender. The drone hovered beside her shoulder, hovering accurately by her side as it kept what would be a smug silence.
"Uh...Bonsoir...I'll just take some wine, if you -do- have it..." she muttered, feeling strangely out of place in this bar full of people she didn't know, who didn't even speak her language.
Taking the glass of wine, which, she could even tell now would not be the same as Gallic, she proceeded to the opposite end of the room, passing by the gathering, a red-dressed girl whispering about some sort of ship. Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, she shifted to avoid it, accidentally bumping into the 'tank' and nearly spilling her drink. Stammering, and letting out an embarrased "Excusez moi..." she hurried past, taking a seat near the corner of the room. Looking back at the group, she realised that the figure seemed familiar...

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A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.