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Fowler · 11-16-2008, 03:52 PM,

Well I landed, more like semi-controlled high speed descent but what do you want when you decide to land somewhere after having sampled a wee bit o product that one might use in a new job, a steady gig if you will. I haven't had a steady job since.....since.......since, well, one long arse time ago. But, back to my original point lads, I'm Here! On the finest of pleasant planets, the crackin, chaotic Canaria, and I am now barman extrodinaire pardon my bleeding French or Gallic now, who bloody knows.

So I'm sidling up into my new digs, just getting to know the place, well the outside, still have a pack a day habit and some places look rather unkindly on puffing away in a perfectly perfunctory and pleasant covered patio my trouts, and Im near the door and inside bless my ears I swear to Eris I hear bleeding Klingon. I toss me fag and go inside, and put me in a dress and call me Rita, there is two Klingon warrior types laughin it up and drinking what looks to be blood wine, and it hits me "Thats what I bleeding forgot to order, christ on a cracker!". Needless to say the Klingons were a bit startled but the human that was with em seemed to take it all instride, i get a wee bit load when tipsy...lets be honest, schloshed but whos counted haha.

So I run behind the bar and start tossing bottles of me favourite vintages on the shelf (turns out the IMG in Falkland can make a mean gin and on my last trip to get some Nio there I picked some up), and cleanin pint glasses and other such publican sort o stuff. I mean, hell I showed up late, and I forgot to think of our ridged warrior friends, so got to try to be lookin good for management to make up for a slip or two haha.

Well now here I am polishing the crystal, lookin for a customer to make a profit off of or jsut to share some water of life. The klingons seem to be talkin amongst themselves, I wonder what they're sayin?

LD|Inc.Fowler -------> [TAZ]Heinlein's.Heart

Me picture there is of myself in the middle, Shamus (R.I.F-23) on the right, and my good friend Baldrick.
[Image: spinchao.gif]

Malaclypse 666 · 11-16-2008, 04:13 PM,

Message to: Fowler, Canaria Cafe, Port Canaria
Comm ID: Sophie Noir, somewhere up to my lower hemisphere in paperwork.

What?? Stock a specialty for a dozen-odd customers? Gimme a break, Fowler!

Besides, I heard those lads make their own blood wine, so it's "ByoBW" for 'em, unless it becomes an acquired taste outside their circle of acquaintances.

At any rate, glad you took the position, sir. I'll be down to fill out your bloody Church Fithe Certificate and other paperwork sometime this weekend.

Do you cook? If not, perhaps I can send Moira down from Hope's to fill in while she gives you the "Julia Child" routine.

I'll tell Mal to add you to the Epopster Roster toot sweet, my friend.

And easy on the inventory! I do count the dead soldiers.

Smoochies!
Sophie

**Doc Holliday** · 11-23-2008, 05:56 AM,

After a very frustrating trip from planet New London, Doc entered the bar. He had the look of disgust on his face and was cursing under his breath trying not to let his ill temper get the best of him. The bartender noticed as he removed his coat, through it on to a seat next to him and angrily took a seat of his own.

"Bad day, Doc?" asked the barkeep.
"You don't know the half of it, my friend. A glass and a bottle of whiskey," he asked, "and do leave the bottle."
"Will do," the barkeep replied.

As he waited, Doc sat back in his seat and sighed after a quick coughing spell. He muttered to himself, thinking out loud, how one group of people could take his words so totally the wrong way. Then, he sat forward, slamming his fists on the table, spooking the barkeep who was in the process of setting his bottle and glass on the table. As he did, he noticed the old world style guns on his body holsters.

"Those are some fine firearms," he commented, looking at the pearl handles that stood out.
With a pat on each and a weak smile, he winked and replied, "they have served me well. Join me for a drink, Sir."
The barkeep went back to his bar and returned to the table with the old west style dressed man and placed his shot glass on the table. Doc poured both servings and they toasted, "To Canaria!" They tapped glasses and drank.

"Doc, I'd like to visit more but I do have customers," he said, "you missed Commander Matok by about an hour. He was quite the character and left a case of Blood Wine."

Doc then poured himself another shot, "To Matok and his ship. A fine crew and a damn good friend."
As he sat, the thoughts of his rough few days began to fade a bit as he settled down.

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

**Doc Holliday** · 06-10-2009, 09:33 AM,

It had been some time since Doc had visited the Canaria Cafe. Having his own estate and his diplomatic status, he didn't travel as often to the larger settlement of Gran Canaria.

"It's been awhile, Doc, how's it been going?" Norman the barkeep asked, pouring him a shot of whiskey.
"Not bad I guess," replied the doctor, "busy but not bad."
Doc took a seat, took the shot and downed it.
"Very good, Sir," Doc commented with a smile. Then, his face went straight as he looked Norman in the face.
"Any good rumors?" inquired Doc.
"No, not too many. I only here stories of the miners having trouble with pirates up there," replied Norman pointing skyward.
"Hm...." was all Doc responded with as he nodded. He sat for a moment which seemed like forever then leaned forward, "how would you like a rumor for yourself."
Norman smiled and leaned almost nose to nose with Doc, "You should know better. I'm a bartender. Out with it."
Doc just nodded and smiled. Then in a low voice, he said, "I hear that Bretonia is looking to expand to our system."
A shocked Norman leaned back a bit and just as he was about to yell, he caught himself, looked around the bar and returned to Doc, "You're kidding."
Doc only shook his head no.
"Bretonia? Here?" quietly exclaimed Norman. He then stood up and through his bar rag on the bar and got back down where Doc was. "The Corsairs will be furious! Zoners will be furious! Hell, I'm furious!" at which point his voice was audible for all to hear.
"Keep it down, Norman. I only recently heard about it," said Doc. "What I need you to do is chill out, play dumb about the issue and see what you hear through the rumor mill."
Norman again smiled, "Remember, Doc, I'm a bartender!"
With that, Doc paid for his drink and as a down payment, forwarded Norman some credits to keep his eyes and ears open and with his long, black over coat and hat, headed out the bar.

As he left, a man in a dark corner booth in a Corsair uniform, watched as he left. Softly, he began whispering into his personal com to........someone.

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

**Doc Holliday** · 06-19-2009, 09:12 AM,

It had been several days since John Holliday's last visit to the Canaria Cafe. Still dressed in his professional old west attire, a visibly agitated Doc Holliday entered the cafe. The crowd was light and the backround music was low for a very relaxing environment.

"Welcome back, Doc," piped up Norman who was at his usual spot behind the bar, "your usual seat is free."
Doc said nothing as he went to the back corner table with only a nod of approval. As the Doctor sat down, Norman followed with a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey.

"Looks like you need this," he said as he put them down on the table. "I'll make up some of the nachos you like."
With a weak smile, Doc replied with a simple thank you.
He then poured the shot glass full and picked it up. He watched it as he swirled it around. Strangely, he only took a sip and put it back down. Yes, his mind was abound with many things. He then took the gold watch that was chained into his pocket, opened it and checked the time. It really didn't matter what the time was as he was more fidgety than anything. As he closed it and put it away, two men entered the bar dressed in Bretonian pilot's uniforms. He recognized them as Borderworld Export pilots. He just lowered his head enough to not be noticed under his hat but kept his eye on them as he began playing solitaire with a deck of cards. The two men were loud enough to be heard by all.

"Barkeep, I'll take a draft if you would," requested the first pilot.
"That sounds good," replied the second, "I'll have the same."
Norman, fully aware that others were listening, struck up conversation.
"So what brings you boys out to Gran Canaria," he asked as he began pouring their beers.
"Gran Canaria? Where the hell is Gran Canaria?" asked the first pilot.
"Um, Mister........" he stalled, fishing for a name.
"Mr. Wilkins," replied the first pilot, "Frank Wilkins and this is my partner Don Frederick."
With a chuckle, Norman continued, "Mr. Wilkins, you are on Gran Canaria, the Zoner's home world."
"Not according to my charts," he replied instantly, "This is planet Sydney and any Zoners living here are squatters."
Norman then put the beers before the two men who then each took a drink as Norman continued although now he was a bit offended.

"Well, Sir, I am a Zoner and have lived here for some fifteen years. I am no squatter," he torted. "There are many of us who have been here for some time to include Ambassador Holliday who has a 10,000 acre Estate a ways from here."

"Ambassador Holliday, eh?" responded Wilkins, "Well, I'm sure his Estate will generate some nice tax for the Bretonian government if they don't put him on trial for insulting the Queen first."
Both pilots were getting louder and more beligerent as the subject wore on. All the while, Doc sat quiet, flipping cards on his table, just listening.

"So, then, if I may ask, does the government plan to do with this planet," inquired Norman.
"Re-settle the 10's of thousands of refugees here displaced by the war," declared Wilkins. "They will also profit nicely from the rich niobium fields not far from the planet.

About that time, Doc smirked beneath his hat which was still dipped down to hide his face. He then coughed as he so often did just loud enough to get the attention of the pilots. Mr. Frederick then put his drink down, stood up and made his way to the table where the coughing stranger sat. "You have a problem, Mister?" he asked in a rude tone. The stranger only looked up with a weak smirk, revealing who he was.

"Well, well, Frank," commented a sarcastic Don Frederick with a bully's grin, "look what we have here, the Ambassador himself."
Wilkins then stood up himself. As he walked to his partner, he himself was tough talking, "No kidding! I say we take care of things now." Taking a position near his partner, his face went straight, "It's too bad he didn't have his little Kusari bitch with him."
Frederick also got serious, "Then we could deal with them both. But for now....." He then reached for his sidearm.
In a flash, both men found themselves staring down the barrel of Doc's pistols which he drew from under his coat. "Oh I beg to differ, Sir. I do believe it is you gentlemen who will be dealt with." After a quick pause, he continued, "Now, you can go back to your drinks or you can check out our fine Canarian soil from underground."

The two pilots were furious at this point but knew they didn't have a chance. "You ain't nothin' without those guns, Holliday. You're just a skinny, little runt!" barked Mr. Frederick.
Doc then cocked the hammers on his guns, "I told you to go sit down and behave." Without another word, both men backed off and once they were to their seats, Doc re-holstered his guns. He had also had enough for one day or so he thought.

He picked up his cards, stood up and closed his coat and began to leave the cafe. He then handed Norman some gold for a tip, "Norman, you have yourself a good night." Then he turned to the pilots and tipped his hat, "Gentlemen." But, as he headed for the door, Mr. Frederick shot up and charged him. Expecting the attack, Doc turned to his side, grabbed him from behind as he tripped him and thrusted the knife he had drawn into the pilot's chest. Trying to help his partner, Frank Wilkins drew his sidearm but before he could take aim, he heard three clicks behind his own head. Two Corsair pilots and Norman himself had all drawn on him. Doc then lowered the dying pilot to the floor and turned to Wilkins, "Sad thing is, Sir, it was you I had hoped took my knife for your comments about Miss Midori. I guess I missed."

"You haven't heard the last of this, Ambassador, not by a long shot," bellowed a very angry Wilkins. As Doc put his knife away, Wilkins picked up his partner and carried him out, hoping to save him.
After a few minutes, the Cafe returned to normal as Doc returned to his Estate. The bottle of whiskey that was Doc's was now being enjoyed by the two Corsairs that watched his back as a thank you.

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

Malaclypse 666 · 06-26-2009, 05:01 PM,

Message to: Doc and Midori, Tombstone Estate
Comm ID: Reggie Waverly, Sophie's Cafe

Hello, you lovebirds! I just stopped to check in at the Cafe, and remembered I owed you my congratulations on your engagement and upcoming nuptials! I look forward to meeting your lovely bride-to-be, Doc.

I will be on Canaria for a few days, hopefully putting some of these poor "Refugees" to work putting my Plantations back in seed, and rebuilding the Veranda Incognita.

Time permitting, sir and madam, I would like to visit your Estate and wish you the best in person. I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting Miss Sato.

I am also considering "popping the question" myself to a long-time romantic interest of mine. She currently owns and operates a B&B on Belfast, whch she purchased from Waverly LLC some time ago.

Unfortunately, the woman has been devastated by the death of a close friend recently, and seems at loose ends. I do not wish a proposal to seem as if made out of pity; but I have waited entirely too long to approach her about marriage.

If I can do so soon enough, perhaps we could even hold a "Double Wedding" here on our beloved Canaria. Once business here is satisfactorily underweigh, I will make for Newcastle and speak sincerely to Moira about the possibllity.

Please let me know if a visit now would be appropriate. I know your diplomatic duties, and your wedding plans are both time-consuming; but one must take a little time out for friends, eh?

Regards,
Reg

**Doc Holliday** · 07-09-2009, 08:37 AM,

Tired from a long day's work but cheerful as always, Grady McCue walked into the Cafe. Norman was working as usual behind the bar, wiping it down. The crowd being moderate, Grady sat at the bar.

"Grady!" Norman spoke in a loud, friendly voice, "long time, no see!"
"Oi, Laddie, it has been," replied Grady as the two men shook hands.
"So what brings you by here?" asked Norman.
"I'm celebrating," cheerfully responded Grady, "and I'll be right insulted if you don't join me in a celebratory drink."
Norman looked around and gave it a moment's thought. Then, with a nod, he just answered, "All right. I will. What'll it be?"
"Your best Scotch, Laddie!" responded a cheerful Grady.
"You got it," answered Norman.

He placed two coasters on the bar and two shot glasses. As he poured the scotch, Norman was curious as to the occasion.
"So what's the occasion?" he asked Grady.
"Two new additions to my family," announced Grady, "A boy and a girl."
Norman, full of excitement, got close to his face as he became speechless and spoke softly but excitedly,
"I didn't know you and the wife were expecting!"

Grady laughed out loud. "No, Lad, we didn't have any babies you silly goose. I took in two young children who had no parents as there father was recently killed."

"Ew," replied an almost dejected Norman.
"Still, Lad, two new children and I'lll raise them as my own. Cheers!" he said, holding up his glass for a toast.
"Too the kids," replied Norman. They then klinked glasses and drank.
"Very good stuff," declared Grady, "very good stuff indeed, Lad."

With that, Norman nodded is agreement with a smile and put his glass in the sink.

"By the way, Grady, have you seen Doc? I have a message for him that's been here awhile," inquired Norman.
"He's on Cambridge," answered Grady, "he's taking care of some hurt Zoners there. I expect he will be home in a couple of days tops."
"Well, when he get's home, give him this," replied Norman as he handed Grady a com chip.
"I sure will, Lad," answered Grady.
With other customers to worry about, Norman went about his work. After a few more drinks, a tipsy but very happy Grady McCue left to return home, the com chip in his pocket.

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

**Doc Holliday** · 07-17-2009, 07:47 PM,

Sophie's was set up for a private wedding reception. A live band provided entertainment and fine cuisine was served to all in attendance. It was also where some of the dignitaries had a chance to chat a bit on the many issues in Sirius but for today, it was a day of celebration and not work so business was kept to a minimum.
The MC at the party was the bartender himself, Norman.

Before their friends, John Holliday presented his new wife with a gift, a gold wrap for her wedding set that was laced with diamonds and a matching necklace. Each of their bands had their names inscribed and the date of their union. With all present, Norman took the floor and gave a quick toast to both couples. He ended the toast with some old advice, "And always remember, never go to bed angry!"

Then, John stood in the center of the floor, his Ambassador's robes flowing around him as he held out his hands, "Mrs. Holliday. I would like this dance for the rest of my life." Taking his hands as she stepped up to him, she smiled and replied, "I would be most honored, Doctor." Then, the band began playing a song from an old Earth band, one that John had become very fond off through his research.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSj0jLcPrW8
Together, the swayed totally lost in each other. As the band played, he softly sung the words to her as he looked into her dampened smile. At one point of the song, he sang it slightly louder for her,

"I would die for you, Climb the highest mountain. Baby, there's nothing I wouldn't do," he spoke.

Once it was finished, they just embraced and thanked the crowd. He then turned it over to Reggie and Moira,
"Your dance, you two."

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

Malaclypse 666 · (This post was last modified: 07-18-2009, 01:28 PM by Malaclypse 666.)

Reggie turned to Doc and Midori and gave them a huge smile and a stately bow, before turning to his bride.

"Moira, may I also have a dance, to seal our vows, and to express our feelings before Eris and this wonderful group of people?"

Moira didn't hesitate as she waved at the band. Two members of the band stepped forward, brandishing only a guitar and fiddle.

"Yes I will, ye lovely, silly man. And here's the tune we'll be callin'!

"And the rest o' ye'll be grabbin' a partner as well!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWkR9ZwBml8

Midori · 07-24-2009, 09:42 AM,

After a long day of working in her garden and making a supply run to Freeport 1, Midori entered Sophie's bar much to the delight of the barkeep, Norman. She was dressed in a black and white Kimono and her patented smile.

"Wweeelll, if it isn't Mrs. Holliday," Norman said firmly, making her smile all the bigger.
Being alone and not liking a corner table that way, she sat at the bar.
"Strange seeing you alone," commented Norman, "You and Doc are hardly ever apart."
"Well," she answered, "John is at Port Jackson again doing medical work."
"Ah," replied Norman. "What's your drink tonight?"
"Um.....wine," she answered.
Norman nodded. Taking a glass, he filled it with Gallic wine and served the glass to her on a coaster.
"Anything to eat?" he inquired.
"No, I OK with this," she replied.

Midori sipped the wine and let it set in her mouth for a few seconds. It was good, very good, and she savored it. She also looked around the cafe to scan the crowd. The crowd was light. A few Zoners and two Corsair pilots sitting alone in a corner talking quietly to themselves. Paying no mind to anyone, she turned back and continued chatting with Norman.

"So how did your flight go on your way to Freeport 1?" he inquired.
"Very uneventful," she stated, "I met a Molly on the way but they seem nice enough."
Norman had a quick answer, "Mollys leave Zoners alone for the most part. Unless you are a Corsair or a member of the Bretonian Crown, you shouldn't have much trouble with them."
He then got close to her and quietly asked, "You're still worried about travelling through Bretonia, being a Kusari woman?"
She just nodded.
"Well, give it time," he continued, "some know by now of your life and marriage so they will eventually be at least tolerant."
"I do hope so," she answered, taking another sip of her wine.
"Listen, I'll be over here," state Norman, "if you need anything, just say so."
"Thank you," she said.

With that, she enjoyed her wine, listening to and watching her surroundings. Norman, feeling a sense of obligation, even though he was at the other end of the bar, kept a watch on the Ambassador's wife.

Married to Ambassador John Henry "Doc" Holliday

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