Just long enough for things to quiet down a bit, but short enough away for anger to still linger, three Corsair pilots that observed the scene earlier return to the bar, accompanied by a very reluctant guest. The front man of the group calls out to the bar,
"Hola! HA HA! Look who we found landin right ou-side boys!"
The second and third enter carrying a smaller pilot by the arms, suspended between them. Branded on the side of the pilots flight helmet, are the letters OPG.
Suspended high enough off the ground to not have a chance of footing, the pilot kicks and squirms helplessly against the strength of the two restraining.
"Figured from what happehn earlier, that you boys may like to have a word with this one!"
The two carry the smaller pilot over to the bar, and set the helmeted one right down next to Ares and Lucendez. Another pistol reaches the light and is pressed into the OPG pilots back. The pilot raises hands and gazes through the shadowed visor of their helmet at all the angry faces around. A chill forms just about behind the eyes, and runs all the way down the pilots body to the toes. One of the capturers pulls the helmet off the pilots head, revealing the face of a young girl, no more than 16 years of age. She does not speak, but instead glances around with her uncovered eye. A slight glisten of violet color amongst a pale complection.
The face may even be recognized by some that keep an eye out for whom the hunters are after.
*Wilson shows off his ham sandwich* - Armory.003
*mark placed on Unit-sk855's forehead* - Head hitting the desk as of reading the above
Lucendez pulled up a chair and sat at the table. "Please, excuse my arrogance. I guess you could say I've been a bit excited to talk to people, scratch that, Corsairs after returning from Omicron Minor. Yes, Ares has suffered an insult that will not go unpunished."
Lucendez motions for the girl to join them at the table.
"The OPG are Corsairs, and good ones at that, that much can not be denied. Must blood truly be spilled?"
"As enemies swarm around us, we must stand and protect what is ours, because I don't know if you've noticed, but space has been getting pretty crowded."
Juan lapses back into silence.
"The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground.
Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there."
A not so tall but broad-shouldered figure enters the bar puffing on a cigar and adding to the thick cloud of smoke already clinging to the ceiling. Glancing over at the two pilots in the corner and then to the crowd of people gathering around a table at the far end of the room Moore tugs at his thick, red beard and takes another pull off his cigar.
The rather shapely woman he had seen enter ahead of him is seating herself at the table beside a small girl. Ares, Lucendez, Farquar, and Montoya are also there.
"Strange," Les thinks to himself scratching his bald head, "but stranger still is Ashton with rubber gloves and a face mask."
Moore suppresses a chuckle as he makes his way to the bar.
"Barkeep, a bottle of whiskey and a glass."
As he pours himself a glass of good Bretonian whiskey, taken on a raid yesterday, Moore leans back against the bar to watch.
*Right.. Ok, just relax.. Calm your young emotions, and follow their lead.* Alice thought to herself. For a split second a slight grin even crossed her face with the idea. Something had obviously happened to break the OPG's good graces with the people here, so that front of protection was gone. She moved over to where she was guided, and sat down in an empty chair. In front of her, the soda. Oh how much a beer would have done, but if she went and started drinking in this situation, it would only help to ruin the illusion.
Something had happened between her friends in the opg and these people, she did not know what but whatever it was caused some heightened tension. Tension that could result in her getting cast out to the wolves. She looked up at the adults faces standing around her, and tried her best to puppy dog plead as she spoke.
"What is going on? I was taken from my ship right after I landed. I.... I don't even understand why.." She mustered out some sniffles as well, and gave her unpatched eye a rub. Maybe, just maybe if they were willing to cope with her opg alliance because she was a young girl, maybe they would ignore her identity for the time as well, if she made a scene.
She looked down at the bottle in front of her again. Of all the things to make the situation worse, it just had to be root beer..
*Wilson shows off his ham sandwich* - Armory.003
*mark placed on Unit-sk855's forehead* - Head hitting the desk as of reading the above
Ares smiles. It's rare that anyone calls him 'Adrian' any more.
"Well, you see, the folks here didn't take well to the 'OPG' written on your helmet, mostly because the OPG are scum. Hell, that 'Gentle' or whatever his name is, disrespects the Elders, like myself, at every opportunity and even threatened to blow the damn bar up! He threatened to kill his own brothers and sisters, not to mention that that would destroy the booze...
You know that is not how we Corsairs behave. We crush our foes, but stand by la familia. That's why I defend Crete with my life, even though I'm a loyal member of the Coalition. It's my duty as a Corsair, something these lunatics have forgotten."
He looks at the girl frowning at the root beer and laughs.
"I hated that stuff too..."
He yells to the barman,
"Alonso! Get the lass a half-pint of cider! Put it on that tab I have..."
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