Some say it's the last place any Bretonian Serviceman can be relaxed, can really just sit down with friend's and talk the night away.
Of course, the Blue Moon wasn't it's "official" name - officially, it was the Battleship Derby Active Personnel Recreational Area. The Blue Moon was just a moniker amongst the pilots, the meaning of which had been lost to history.
It was a rather utilitarian affair. There was no bartender - just a set of kiosks, set along a far wall. Servicemen simply slipped their ID cards into the kiosks, and a drink was dispensed. Of course, the alchoholic stuff had a cutoff point - you cant shoot a Kusarian with a hangover.
On the other wall, there was a set of holo-pads, neural net consoles - some of the only (legal) "free" consoles in all of Leeds - that is, they connected to the Sirius-wide Neural Networks, rather than the local networks more common in the warzone, nowadays.
There was about a dozen tables in the middle of the place, each with 3 seats. This place never closed, as there was no staff - people could be seen here at all hours of the day.
Robert Woodrow was walking by the corridor to file his report, more though taking a tour of the battleship Derby's places which he'd never been to. While walking down, he glanced his head to the right noticing a bar.
"Well, this place needs one, this must be where Commodre Blair keeps getting drunk after battles" he mumbled to himself.
He walked into the center of the bar seeing sevral officers with their drinks engagaed in conversation with oneanother. Woodrow looked around for any staff, unsucessful in his search he headed over to an officer with a drink who showed him the self serve program. He thanked the officer who went back to his seat and Woodrow ordered the most popular drink which was being drunk today.
He walked to a table, alone with his "Green Surprise" wondering if it was actually drinkable. And settled down to relax for a bit, awaiting company...
Michael Clay was walking down the corridor wondering what to do, when he noticed the new bar. "Mmm, new watering hole..." He didnt wait a single second and went in. His initial search for a bartender was unsuccessful, so he headed to the dispensers and started wondering how to get drinks from them. "ID card? If only I knew where I put it..." He started to walk around the machine, then slowly approached it from a side and look around the room in a "what I am doing is perfectly normal" way to make sure no one is watching. He tilted the machine a bit, nudged it from behind and immediately a click came out from the machine along with a bottle. Michael, happy with his success picked up the bottle reading "Sailors Dream" and looked around the room, noticing Woodrow sitting alone. He walked up to his table, "Hello Woody." and sat down.
"Heheh, wanna try the "sailors dream"?" he asked while opening the bottle with navy blue liquid. "With no ID card, it is up to the dispenser what you will drink... I am fine by the way, thanks. What about you? How is your Rheinlandish love doing?" *chuckles*
"Sailors Dream?" he replied "whatever it is, it's got to be better than this" he emptied his drink in a sink, and sat back down. "Better get a new glass, taste might still be there" he shuddered, got a new glass and poured himself some of the drink. He swallowed a mouthful instantly. "Better".
And oh, Miss Schoon, yes? Well despite getting threats from her "brother" I've been waiting to see her for a while" he laughed. "Though time off duty probably ain't enough to go all the way over, maybe when- if ever we get a day off for once..." he paused a second or two. "Ain't got anybody special, have you Michael" he asked, and laughed slowly after he'd made the comment.
A man walks into the bar rooms door, He would have the Bretonian pilot suit on, his insignia being of the Seventh fleet, the Derby fleet under Admiral Owens. Others around looked at him and talked in hush whispers. Christopher looked around slowly watching peoples eyes shy away less they make contact. He didn't care for their rumors. He slid his ID card into the machine and got his drink and went to sit down at one of the computers. As he sat others around him vacated the area. It would be apparent something was taboo about him, something meant knowing him would be frowned upon. He sat there more absorbed with himself being that he was getting use to the treatment provided by the other Armed Forces pilots. His head phones would be in as loud music plays from them, not coherent at all
While waiting for Clay's reply, Woodrow saw the new Ensign, Christopher Dangen and pointed at him then shouted.
"Hey, Dangen, come here, sit with us" the other Armed Forces members glared at him "what? Something to say" he shouted out. They all turned back to their conversations.
"Didn't think so" he then waited for Dangen to come over, if he would, so they could possibly poke some fun at Michael Clay and his possible lack of a love life.
Christopher finished what we was doing on the computer and got up, as he did people went to the three computers that were vacant now having been around where he was sitting. He slowly made his way over and sat down at the table where the two were."Hey." He waited a moment. "Careful might have people start to discriminate and think your a monster too."he said in a sarcastic tone.
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