The Bear's Cave - Sedona Station, Baffin (Formerly Freeport 14, Yukon)

[fencore]

Gheis took a step into the bar. It was the first time in a while where he was coming in to enjoy the day, not to get away from it.

Business had been good, and the recent events with the SCRA, while personally disparaging, had put OSI overall in the green. Recruitment was up, and things were looking good. And only a few more days until the christening ceremony for the newest ZBT, Resolute II. The only sour note on the composition of the day was a nagging guilt about having let Sara go on the mission with the Rebels. That's something that would probably stick with him forever.

Gheis nodded toward Lev on his way in, took a seat at the bar, ordered a scotch whiskey, and watched the vidscreen behind the bar.

[nunchakus]

After a whole week's worth of finger crunching in the office, Malikk decided to take a day off to relax and recuperate. After a long stroll around the Freeport, he stepped into The Bear's Cave.

Browsing through the jukebox, he chose a song before grabbing a coffee from the dispenser and took a seat next to Gheis. "Hey Gheis, how's it going?", as he sat.

---

[Malaclypse 666]

Mal, Reggie and the Hollidays walked through the doors of the Bear's Cave...

...and into a seething wall of humanity.

Lev's staff was scrambling to clear tables and get at least a few of the crowd into seats, but Mal could see they were losing the battle. He tapped his temple and called for reinforcements.

"Athena? Chapel all battened down? Good! Can you round up the Pooters Posse and get right over to Lev's bar? He's in deeep trouble!
What??? Why, you scamp! Alright.. double pay! Just get here!"

---

[Dancing Bears]

As soon as Lev walked in he saw how crazy it was. By the time Mal, Doc and the others had come in, it had been like that for an hour. Ever since Mal's "service" had let out, the Cave had been mobbed. Grabbing his new floor manager Raul, he threw the man at a set of tables by the windows. A minute later the large round table was cleared. Lev went over to the Old Man and his group and guided them over to the table.

"Get started folks, I will be over as soon as I get this all settled. Seems that Reg's bill just keeps going up." Lev said with a wink at Waverly. "But no worries Reg, this tables tab is on the house."

Lev quickly went off to get his staff organized, an amount and type of work the Old Man would not have though possible from his younger friend.

---

Living life as a Zoner? Sure, on my Eagle, Kingfisher, Conference, Fearless, Corvo, Aquilon and/or Juggernaut perhaps. Not on an Advanced Train or Zoner Whale.

[Ophiuchi]

Lev had recognized Moira as she entered the Cave, and motioned her towards his private table in the corner. He seemed to be buried in paperwork and a cloud of blue smoke.

Moira didn't know the extent of the strange bond between Shestov and the Episkopos, but she liked the hirsute man. She was soon sipping a tall "Yukon Kooler", and staring at a plate of what appeared to be some sort of fried fish and greasy chips.

After a few pleasantries, Lev dove into his pile of invoices and receipts again. Moira finished her meal, and took out a datapad. Reggie preferred to "read" her messages. She began to enter her good news:

To: [TAZ]Reggie's.Rickshaw
Comm ID: The Missus, Lev's Cave

My darlin' Reggie,

Well, "Waverly's Fifth" is in the bank, luv. One more run, and we'll have Eris' Fithing fer the Temple as well. There might even be a bit o' surplus fer you t' replace that bleedin' weak armor on yer transport.

I've missed ye, ye sot! Now that the goal is reached, what say we meet at the Veranda 'n board the doors fer a week 'r two. I've set aside a bit o' Flax t' redecorate, 'n I could use yer sense o' scale 'n decorum. Only thing I ever decorated was me old digs on level 66 at Islay.

I should be makin' Port C. by this evening. Julips on the porch?

Amour Fou,
Yer Kentigearna.

She finished the sweet Kooler, gave Lev a hug, and headed for the docking bay, whistling a jaunty sea shanty.

---

<span style="color:#339999">Reg Waverly * Moira &quot;Kentigearan&quot; Waverly * Fnordette Sophie Noir</span>



<span style="color:#66CCCC">Sophie's on the Square * Veranda Incognita</span>

[Dancing Bears]

Lev had been interviewing people for weeks. Business had been great out on the edge of nowhere, and Lev had decided to diversify his properties. He found an old beat up Juggy, bought it and spent a fortune, some discreetly siphoned from the funds Reggie Waverly had sent his way from the TAZ, to refurbish the insides and outsides to suite his needs. A light tie dye on much of the outer hull, and a revamping of the weapons systems so they could be used as fireworks. That had the added benefit of creating a ship with absolutely no real weapons of any kind on it. Lev liked this.
So anyways, Lev had been doing interviews for weeks. He knew this new mobile shindig would mean him spending less time at the Cave. So he had been looking for the right person to fill the role of General Manager of the place. He had a couple of people in mind, though none of them felt quite perfect. The search continues it seems. But the new ship was almost done, and Lev was running out of time to get a new GM up and running.

---

Living life as a Zoner? Sure, on my Eagle, Kingfisher, Conference, Fearless, Corvo, Aquilon and/or Juggernaut perhaps. Not on an Advanced Train or Zoner Whale.

[Dusty Lens]

Retirement wasn't something that he had ever considered. It wasn't a word that fit into his worldview, nor long term plans. He wasn't even sure what it meant in the circle of existence that he habituated. Retirement must be what people did when they managed to scrape up a little money and could stop long enough to set down their labors and reflect on a rich, full life. He had money enough to step down from his labors. But the notion of dropping his pack long enough for the dogs in his head to get close enough to stop their barking just long enough to close their jaws over his throat was not an appealing notion.

So, no, retirement wasn't something that he had ever considered. But having handed the reigns of the Reavers to Silver he felt like he was one step closer to something akin to it. Other projects would come. But life felt washed of color without an instrument of death in hand.

The control stick of the X Shuttle he was docking on Freeport 14 didn't factor as an instrument of death.

It had been a pair of days since he'd wandered through this corner of space. The tranquility of the region doubtless appealing to his largely unemployed ass' need to feel sorry for itself and mope over days behind and creeping age in a bar where no one he knew would point and laugh. He wasn't old. He just felt old. Older than he expected to ever get 'afor fate took him out. Also there was that he was going to order a hot toddy to reinforce the notion of becoming a dried up old man was about a diaper over the horizon.

Shame it was just weapons, rather than thoughts like these, that he had to leave at the door when he strolled into the Cave and took stock of the closest bit of bar real estate he could hope to claim for his own self and the closest bit of staff he could hope to flag to secure a bite to eat a drink to forget and a joint to push his concerns behind a sudden invested interest in whoever actually invented zippers or some other damn fool stoner idea of a deep topic of concern.

[Reverend Del]

As the half battered Pirate transport flashed out of the Cassini jumphole, the pilot flashed a grin. The Rogues might not be pleased he still had backdoor access that prevented the defences from popping his ship like a ripe plum, but his pursuers would have been even less pleased.

"Heh, Yukon at last. A trip well worth taking."

The stolen transport wouldn't flash up on any databases, the pair of thieves he'd stolen it from certainly wouldn't tell any other living soul they'd been taken. Be bad for their reputation. That said it wouldn't add to his either but he didn't mind, best to keep a low profile for now, and nowhere lower than Freeport 14. The backside of Liberty in every sense of the word.

He'd been hearing a few things said about one of the bars in this place and with a mind to check it out he requested docking permission.

Walking into the bar he was surprised at the vast array of other folks in here, and hardly anyone looked surly enough to start a brawl. He had checked his weapons at the door, and was only left with his prodigous size to aid him should things get ugly.

"So, not exactly Buffalo's bar, but hardly the Ritz on Manhattan either..." he muttered to himself.

He walked up to the bar looked the barman square in the eye.

"Don't suppose you have a bottle of finest Montezuma Moonshine have you?" Sylpheed smiled.

---

Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.

[Dancing Bears]

Lev looked at the man he knew as Copper, took his drink order, called the kitchen to make himself something nice. The man looked haunted. Lev knew something was up, but he knew if the other man was looking for someone to talk to, he would let him know.

Just as Lev was finishing up with Copper, another man walked in and made his way to the bar. A very large man. Lev made his way over, and the man asked for some of the Rouges brew. This close to Cassini, Lev always kept a few bottles in stock. Grabbing one, he handed it over to the large man. "Lev Shestov, glad to meet you, what brings you out this way?"

---

Living life as a Zoner? Sure, on my Eagle, Kingfisher, Conference, Fearless, Corvo, Aquilon and/or Juggernaut perhaps. Not on an Advanced Train or Zoner Whale.

[Dusty Lens]

Well **** the bed and break it, if the gentleman as just strained the notion of what constitutes an acceptably sized door frame packing a pair of mitts roughly the size of a baby's head wasn't the infamous (in days of yore) Sylpheed then I'm was David Hale (albeit with substantially more going on downstairs, though that was hardly saying much amiright?) (he thought to himself).

(He had never seen Hale's junk. That would be kinda weird.).

But then mayhap being able to casually wear the infamy badge when you walk into a bar is a little easier when you look like the result of a Honey Badger having a night of tender romance with a T-Rex.

He casually inquired to Lev when his drink was presented:

Is that who I think it is or do they just feed their kids better out here?