Bruce Véron entered the bar area on Pont du Gard, if one could call it a bar. As Bruce glanced around it was clear that none of his work orders had been filled, let alone looked at. He shook his head and stepped over some power couplings that had fallen from the ceiling. Once he was behind the bar he noticed all the broken glass. He cursed. Not only was he working this god forsaken bar, there wasn’t any wine either.
There was a loud bang, and half the bulkhead door engaged. Bruce looked at the half open door and shook his head. He pulled his data pad out and immediately sent out a priority request for some wine, and then he resubmitted all his work requests.
He reluctantly flipped on the open sign and grabbed a broom; with any luck he would find an unbroken bottle or two to serve the miners returning from the fields.
Looking at the beautiful planet Quillan at far end from the glass-covered hall, a person aged around his early thirties, walked swiftly over to the "bar" section. The first reaction to the condition of the room was if he ever saw such kind of bar !!! ..
It was more or else a dive bar for him. He had been out here at the neighbourhood space for around 5 days and had been passing through the base quite a lot this whole time.
A loud rattle suddenly erupts from somewhere under the newcomers feet. A sound of muffled and elaborate french cursing follows. Something about wiping ones buttocks with silk.
A floor plate moves, and then slides over about 2 metres from where he is standing. A grime-covered face with a large occular tool attached to it peers up amid a cloud of welding smoke. With the torch still going in one hand he recklessly lights a cigarette with it, within a few centimetres of completely destroying his boyish features.
"Oui, I'm Gervais. But I'm not the bartender. I did find this though." He profers a bottle of wine.
"Are you with the Dangerous Requisitions crew? My contract got redirected here. Says there's Berylium near here, heaps of it. Didn't say the station was only half built." He frowns at that last bit, looking even more childish. He puffs amatuerishly on the cigarette, trying not to cough.
"Plenty of work for me though. Gotta be small to get into some of the vitals around this wreck. But she will live."
Noticing Bruce for the first time across the bar, Gervias utters something exceptionally rude under his breath, then quickly pipes up with "But this part here, oui, she's good to go, thanks for asking".
Bruce looks up from his data pad and gestures around the bar before responding to Gervias, "I put in orders for all this stuff days ago, where are my shipments!?" He grabbed a glass and came over to the newcomer, bending over he grabbed the bottle from the floor and wiped the dust off. "Et is a disgusting vintage from a terrible vineyard." He gingery removed the cork and poured a class for the guest. "But it will have to do, no? I am Bruce and I 'ill be your server this evening. I have little to offer as of yet, but with any luck my shipment should be here soon."
Bruce glanced down at Gervias, "Shouldn't you be doing something, like putting my bar back togeather?"
He licks his lips nervously. "Well, I am due for a break, oui? I have been welding for hours like some sort of welder-monkey!". He keeps his eyes locked on the wine.
Sébastien entered the bar with a crate on his shoulder, he called out "Bruce, I got about 80 more of these down in the air lock, your first shipment of wine came in finally." He walked over to the group and handed the crate over to Bruce, but not before taking a bottle out and pouring himself a glass. He glanced at Gervias and saw what he was staring at before pouring one for him as well. "Et has been a tough day, no?" Sébastien drank deeply from the glass before sitting at the table next to Gervias, "Are you going to join me and tell me how exciting its been here on the station, or are you planning on harassing the barkeep all night again?"
The esoteric talks among the people out in the bar was listened by the new guy quite inadvertently. Nescient of the bar's ongoing work, He gulped the wine out in one stroke.
" Hello Bruce, Myself Patric .. Can I get one of those more .. "
Glancing over to the corner side, He grabbed up a scene of conversation between the two gentlemen among whom Grevias was the cognitive face.
He looks towards Bruce. " Hey, Mind if I ask what you guys do out here ... " a smile creeps up on his face.
The door creaks open. A heavily intoxicated man stumbles in bringing a crate of Bordeaux wine. He struggles balancing both the crate and his feet as he lumbers into the Bar.
He looks up, sends out a sheepish smile as he sees the audience before him.
"Hey Brucie gotsh the wine you asked me to bring. There'sh a lot more in the backsh. I helpsh myself to a few bottlesh..." *Hic*
"Sorry bout thatsh. Prety strongsh stuf.. hehe"
He puts down the crate on the table, surprisingly with such care taking into consideration he is completely sloshed. As he stumbles off to get more, he talks in a loud drunken voice.
"Hey Brucie remembersh Atola always takes great pridesh in hauling liquor for err fine minersh... " *Hic*
"Comingsh back for more.."
Just as he came in he went back the same way, tottering on the brink of falling but yet somehow manages to keep himself upright.
Bruce smiled at the newcomer and refilled his drink. "This meager base is the Headquarters of the Dangerous Requisitions Exploration DIvision. We uhh, handle the contracts that usually remain unfilled due to high risk of death, radiation poising, kidnapping, pirate attack, and so on."
Bruce left the bottle on the table, and gestured behind him, "Both of these men work for DRED|, although some more than others..." he trailed off as he locked eyes with Gervias. "Well sir, as you see we finally have a selection coming in that I must assist with. If you have any further questions I'm sure Sébastien or Gervias can give you a little more insight."
Bruce nodded to Eric before turning and leaving the bar area, no doubt headed for the airlock.
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