Theodore makes sure that his Charon is safely docked and goes to the bar. He orders a cordial and tries to find a seat where he could spend some time and relax.
His patrol was over and after a cold shower at Java he went to the Hannibal II. He came to expect a lot after what he had been told. And he wasn't disappointed.
The drink is good and he didn't eat anything this afternoon. So he knows that he will get tipsy pretty fast. The soothing music in combination with the cozy atmosphere almost makes him fall asleep
and he glances over the room, studying the faces of the people around. Barely anyone actually knows his face as he tends to talk to them on voice comms while flying patrols so he can just stay here and watch without being recognized.
He leans back against the pillows, watches and listens.
<span style="font-family:Lucida Console"><span style="color:#33CC00">*personality core activated*</span>
Science consists of stating the obvious and linking the facts. </span>
Mink Whipperwill sat in a corner of the dimly lit restaurant. A warm, caffeinated brew on the table before him going mostly undisturbed. The steam from the drink wafted slowly across his large hands. In those hands he cradled a small object. It seemed a thick disc, with several tiers of plates coating both sides, and a peculiar slot in one of those sides.
It was a curiosity to most, a treasure to those who knew of its origin, and it was the prized possession of Mink.
In his life Mink had done many things, and was well known for them. Everything from an escort pilot, captain of a Zoner cruiser, many different times a trader, independent and otherwise, he had almost joined the coalition once, but backed out, barely escaping with his life. He had helped to resurrect the Independent Miners Guild, he had fought Outcasts, Corsairs, Hessians, Blood Dragons, even the strange Nomads.
But on one of those voyages he had picked up this particular item, saved it, in fact, from certain annihilation. And it had been with him ever since. Always quiet. Always present.
Years had passed with the object in Mink's possession, and he had always cherished it. However, recently he has been even more fixated on it, concern and deep thought etched themselves on his face in the quiet, lonely hours such as this.
Recently... He has been dreaming about it.
Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is... He's called the Busdriver!
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In the wake of the Gallic invasion, the Hannibal-II, one of the few operational Zephyrs remaining, had been moved to Tau-39 to avoid discovery by the Gallic forces. Maintaining it was a costly and risky venture, but one David Rose gladly undertook. It had always been good for morale, and the weapons it produced were invaluable as a reliable surplus.
The reopening of the Gerousia Magon to any friendly pilot would certainly see a revitalization of the former gung-ho camaraderie the miners once possessed. And for their allies... well, it beat Java, that's for damn sure.