Characters involved are: Joseph (RED), Duran (ORANGE), Brin (GREEN), Makkani (BLUE), Kale (INDIGO),
Logged by Brin

---

Duran waves to the Bartender. "I'll have pickle juice....that is, if you have any." He swirls around on his chair and notices Joseph. "Hey, sir!"
Duran has disconnected.
The bartender nods and writes down the orders. "So, the usual for the gentleman, and pickle juice for the wimp, is that right?"
Makkani turns, and his eyes turn to slits. "Oh, it's you. I didn't get the chance to compliment you before. You have the most expendable soldiers I've ever met." Makkani nods to the bartender and throws some G on the counter. He then turns back to Joseph. "Sorry to spoil your day. I'll buy you a drink, if you'll feel any better." Makkani examines the liquor list. "Hmm... how about it? A jug of gorilla moonshine, on me." Makkani is obviously quite at ease.
Joseph loks a bit confused. "Gorillas distill alcohol?" He shakes his head quickly. "No! Look, what the hell are you doing in town? Your son isn't even on the same damn continent anymore."
Duran turns red at the bartender's reminder. "Uh, no, you must have heard me wrong. I said ORANGE juice, not pickle juice..." he shakes his head and swirls around on the spinning stool again. "You should listen more to customers."
If ever a door were to appear timid while opening, it would now. Brin sidles into the tavern, not disturbing anyone, as he progresses across the floor. For all the time he has spent here, he seems as little at ease withthe place as he has since he arrived all that time ago. He draws up to the bar, and takes a random seat, seeming not to sit near anything in particular. He barely acknowledges Joseph's presence, as he decides what to order.
Makkani raises an eyebrow. "Oh really, he isn't? That's a shame. Well, he'll be remembering his childhood soon, so what the hey? Besides, this town is nice. I'm gonna be around here for a while. I am a field commander, after all. Being in the field is what I do." Makkani taps his fingers, waiting for his drink. "Oh yes. Joseph, my good man, might you tell me where I can locate a mechanics shop? COmmunicator's gone dead." Makkani is grinning like the devil. "And I can't tell my superiors how wonderful a Colonel you are without one."
Joseph stares at Makkani coldly. "You see, there seems to be a fundamental fact that you have trouble grasping. Not knowing which of three possible ones it is, I find myself compelled to ennumerate them." He begins counting on his fingers. "One: Aveh and Kislev are at war. Two: I am a Gebler officer, working for Aveh. And hree: You are a Kislev officer, working for Kislev. I hope that made things clearer for you, or do I have to go through it again more slowly?"
Duran smiles happily as a glass of pickle juice comes in. "Thanks...hey wait! I said orange juice!"
The Bartender lets out a laugh. "Ouwa, ha, ha. Who says I don't listen to customers? Ouwa, ha ha." He turns back, chuckling all the while.
Brin peers bemusedly sideways at the little exchange between the man and the bartender. He seems to grow slightly impatient, and taps his foot on the floor of the bar impatiently. After a long journey, a man gets thirsty. The delay isn't helping his humour. He turns "I'll drink it, if it means getting served round here..." he says, a little roughtly, for him. "He sneaks an apologetic look to both the barkeep and Duran, and eyes Duran, waiting for his reaction.
Makkani nods. "Yeah, I know. But I could be long gone by the time you could get reinforcements here. And furthermore, your soldiers don't seem like the type who'd be raring to fight me." Makkani casually slams his fist against the bar. "Hey, give the man his orange juice." He then turns back to Joseph. "The only person who really knows my fighting style is Rackl. And, well, I guess I don't have to worry about him interfereing with my operations here. Of course, you could get another ether guy. Tough little bastard, almost took me out. By the way, he owes me his life, so you should be grateful!" Makkani frowns. "Now then, I have stiff liquor that needs drinking." Makkani then looks at the other man. "Heh. Get here early. I got the best seat, right next to the refrigeration unit."
Joseph saddly sighs, and turns to Duran. "Oi! Private! You drunk yet? Got some kind of weapon?"
Duran hears Brin's sentence just as he gulps down the juice. "Oh, uh, whoops. Didn't know you liked Pickle juice that much." He waves to the bartender. "Get him another glass of pickle juice." He swirls around on the stool and faces Joseph. "Not yet, sir. But I do have this lovely, scratched, GA-GS rifle."
The bartender roars in laughter. "Ouwa ha ha ha. You got it, Private." He fills a glass to the brim with clear green juice, and hands it to Brin.
Brin breaks into a grin, and waves his hand at the barkeep "No need. Water will do for now..." he gives a dry cough, and looks around, chuckling slightly, at Joseph's earthy humour. For all his failings, that Joseph's a funny guy at times. Brin starts to realx as his water comes, and he throws back the mug in one go, clunking it down, and asking for more. "...and do you have a bigger mug?".
Makkani shakes his head sadly. "Pickle juice... your forces are remarkably adventureous, Colonel. So, how about it? Will you be willing to release Rackl's GA-GS files to me? I need them. All of them. I believe there is a parental protection of offspring initiative in Aveh, is there not? Then again, that was before Shakhan's time." Makkani is either attempting to confuse Joseph, or disgust him with fake innocence.
Joseph chuckles. "Sorry, after his migration to Aveh, I beleive he lost all legal rights, tecnically speaking. If he has any files, they're in Kislev. I don't keep dosiers on my soldiers," hs says perfectly evenly, passing a lie the size of a buick without batting an eye.
Duran narrows his eyes at the Kislevian. "I may not be willing to get drunk..." he unstraps his rifle and hands it to Joseph, "But I know when I'm insulted."
Brin remains silent. Listening seems to be one of his favourite pastimes, and he seems to be doing quite a bit of it in here lately. He takes his time at his second drink, and watches the exchange.
Makkani chuckles. "First of all Joseph, don't try to bullshit me. If that were true, you're the most idiotic officer I've ever met of any force. Even dog catchers have work records and files. And as for you, impetous young lad..." Makkani raises an eyebrow. "What does drunkeness and knowing when you're insulted have in common? You logic is confusing. Eh. Oh, one more thing. When insulted, it's customary to display your gun menacingly, not give it to you commanding officer."
Joseph stares blankly at the gun Duran gave him, and hands it back. "I don't use guns, I hav epeople for that." He glares at Makani. "And if you think I need files to keep track of the five soldiers I actually have a use for, you're insane. I couldn't care less about the welfare of my soldiers. Now you've got thirty seconds to grab my attnetion before Private Duran preforates you repetidly."
Duran straps the rifle back in and says, "I'm not using the gun. I'm using..." he pulls out his two impressive broadswords. "These." He ignores the bartender's pleas to quiet down and growls.
Kale has connected.
Brin raises his eyebrows at this little display. 'Display' being the operative word, his eyebrows remain the only part of him that moves. Slowly, he begins to yawns, a look of peace and relaxation on his face, as some loony waves swords not 5 feet from him.
Makkani stands and brushes himself off. "If you wanna try me, fine, but you'll wish you hadn't. Age and cunning beats youth and enthusiasm every time." Makkani's eyes dart to Joseph. "Well then, I put it to you that you aren't qualified to be the head of a sanitation department." Makkani pulls out his gun and examines it fondly. "Nah, too easy." He puts it away and pulls out his trusty dagger, an elegant S engrvaed on the blade.
Duran has connected.
Joseph walks over to the bar and hops over, grabbing a worm-stunner (Unweildy, innacurate, effective as all hell) stashed back there for emergancies. "I'm sorry, but your time is up. Duran? It'd be better if he survives, but he doesn't leave the bar under his own power. Get him."
Duran has disconnected.
Duran sheathes one sword quickly and brandishes the remaining broadsword in both hands. "Age loses to youth, and enthusiasm overpowers cunning anyday." He lunges for Makkani with the bright blade.
Brin starts, as the loony puts his broadsward where his mouth is. He retreats, standing beside the bar a good 10 feet away from the action. If he's learned anything about random bar fights, it's not to get involved unless his mother is mentioned.
Kale walks in to the bar, a jaunty look on his face...until he sees the pyrocasm about to go off. Lunging forward, Kale drags Duran back, and attempts to get in the way of the worm stunner. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?"
Makkani smirks. "Let go of him. Even if you hold him back, your fool of a Captian will be stupid enough to fire that worm stunner. Those things aren't all that reliable, even on worms." Makkani tilts his head a bit. "Ah, you're that solider from the desert. It's a pleasure." It's a wonder how Makkani can be so calm while a worm stunner is trained on him. Only time will tell just how much it'll take to kill this guy.
Joseph slumps in dispair. "Am i the only person in the damn room who remembers the war that's going on?" He's on the verge of tears, fists clenching the stunner before him. "Is it too much to ask that we don't let the enemy shop in our stores? We're supposed to be shooting him!"
Duran shakes Kale off, and glares. "Damnit, I was trying to get him too!"
Makkani chuckles. "Maybe you should keep records, Joseph. Make sure your soldiers are staying devoted. Well, I must go to Nortune and handle some business. I'll be back for you," he smirks at Duran, "later. Seeya." Makkani suddenly whips out his gun and fires a shot just to the side of Joseph's head, missing him. He uses the distraction to dart past him, and out the door.
Makkani has left.
Makkani pages, "Heh, sorry. I may or may not be back tonight." to you, Duran, Joseph and Kale.
The bartender jerks as the bullet hits him, he groans, and falls to the floor, dead.
Joseph looks mournfully down at the prone form of the Bartender. "Private, Corporal, I'm upgrading our Kislev friend to kill on sight, right there with Mr. Wong." He grabs a bottle of the expensive looking stuff off of the shelf... no bartender, less grief about never paying his tab.
Duran has disconnected.
Brin watches this whole caper, and steps back as the man runs out, and the gunshot rings out in his wake. Spotting the prone figure behind the counter, he vaults it in one easy movement, and bends down in front of Joseph to see if the barkeep is alive. He listens to his chest, and checks for a pulse. Suddenly, he places his hands firmly on the man's forehead. A whitish glow emanates from behind the bar. Prin props the man up agains the back wall of the bar, and stans. "Hmmm...maybe, maybe not. We shal see." he looks up to Joseph, and nods toward the door, grinning slightly. "Friend of yours?" he grins wryly.
Kale shakes his head. "Joseph. Makkani is the Kislevi field commander, and a living legend...if word gets out that we killed him, then we will have every Kislevi bounty hunter, Gear Pilot, and freelancer gunning for us. We do NOT want that to happen." Kale pauses and looks down at the bartenders cooling corpse, and his orange eyes tighten. "...Then again, there is no excuse for murdering an innocent man."
Joseph has disconnected.
Set.
Kale has disconnected.

<Here, there was a break IRL , since Joseph fell asleep. It continued the next night, with just myself and Joseph, Kale and Duran having...disappeared somehow... >

Brin resumes his seat at the bar quietly, as the ruckus seems to die down. He watches the exchange between Joseph and Kale, and as Kale leaves, he is sitting upright on a stool, about halfway down the bar. Not being sure of Joseph's current mood, or how he might react to being distrurbed, he remains silent.
Kale has connected.
Kale has disconnected.
Joseph sits down at the bar, and opens up the bottle with his teeth. "Damn war," he mutters, "Always making me do work."
Brin nods toward the still-prone figure behind the bar, as if it were some amusing conversation-piece. "He should survive, I suspect...".
Joseph spits on the ground. "Damn. As if I didn't have enough of an earful istening to him ask when I'm going to pay the tabs of two hundred soldiers, I have to hear him harp on about how dangerous I've made his place." He takes a drink. "Hell, I pay for at least a third of this stuff."
Brin nods in agreement on the outside. Inside, he feels a growing knot of revulsion for this petty little man. Someone nearly died, and he doesn't care. Outside, he grins bemusedly. "Heh, A nuisance. Still, at least he wasn't killed. He is, after all, a known quantity. Any new barkeep mightn't be so...forgiving..." His smile widens. o 0 ( ...That's all you care about. The annoyance. Damn you, you don't care about anything!.... ).
Joseph smiles slightly. "I don't really think it was forgiveness. I do own the place, you know." He sighs. "Nice enough chap, though. Knew when to disappear," he grudgingly admits, getting as close to complimenting a civilian as he ever does. "Waters the beer down, though. And made me pay for the time Mr. Hisatsu broke the door."
Brin emits a chuckle. "Aha, that would explain it all right...". Not believing Joseph for a second, he continues. "Yes, good staff can be hard to find, I suspect.".
Joseph shakes his head. "Not on the payrole. Couldn't expect him to do any better." He wanders over to the bar and looks down at the prone form of the bartender. "Duran'll be torqued. More pickle juice for him, I suspect. Why couldn't the fates have delt me a better job?" He tkes a swig.
Brin cranes his neck over the counter to look at the barkeep with Joseph. "Yes. At least when our friend here wakes up..." he turns. "You don't like your current job?" His face shows genuine inquisitiveness.
Joseph waves a head at the fallen. "Nope. See him? Guy got shot. Didn't feel anything. Not exactly what I expected when my kindergarden teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up." He smirks. "Although I did want to be a soldier."
Brin nods. "Ah, I see. It's not the job itself, it's being desensitised to this kind of thing..." he casts his head sideways, looking at the shelves behind the counter, and sighs nonchalantly. "How noble."
Joseph chuckles. "Yup, I guess so. Ignoring the pesant's deaths, passing laws, not paying your tailor... I'm practically the king." He wanders back to his table. "So, what brings you back to Dazil, father?"
Brin casts an eye around. "Laugh if you will, but in all honesty, I like it here. I like the business, the activity of it all..." He grins. "I came for the drinks, and stayed for the clientele. Never a dull moment..." he chuckles, nodding again toward behind the bar. He was about to correct Joseph on calling him 'father', but something stops him. o 0 ( ...he can address me how he likes. The nasty little man... )
Joseph saddly shakes his head. "Stupid of you. Dull tends to see you through, in the long run."
Brin nods agreement. "Of course..." he looks up at Joseph. "But a change is nice, at times...".
Joseph laughs. "You're the one all distraught over the stiff behind the counter. Now you say it's nice. If the secon's true, i can get you a job in Gebler."
Brin grins. "That's not what I meant. It's usually quieter than this..." he thumbs the air behind the counter. "And he _is_ alive...".
Joseph waves a dismissive hand in the air. "Eh. Gambling with lives for entertainment. Remind me of a few people. Mr. Hisatsu, for one. We could use an evil priest."
Brin shakes his head. "I'm hardly gambling with anyone's life. I was trying to save him!..." He gives an exasperated sigh. "And I'd like to think I'm not evil...".
With that, a low graon comes from behind the bar, as a head filled with cotton wool returns to the land of the semi-conscious.
Joseph pats Brin on the back. "I said that, once. It's just a phase. I'll drop it, though, if the subject's making you uncomfortable."
Brin seems happy to do this for now, and sees the perfect opportunity. Or rather, hears it. He slips off his seat, and vaults effortlessly over the bar counter, kneeling beside the man. "Are we awake?..."
a Deep-throated, troubled cough resounds through the bar, as the barkeep awakens violently, and reacts to the searing pain.
Joseph peers over the bar. "How many times have I told you, slip into the back when there's a confrontation!" He rolls his eyes up. "You'll do better next time, right?"
Another painful-sounding cough is heard behind the bar, as the barkeep gets accustomed to the pain of the bullet still lodged in his bleeding shoulder. A loud clearing of the throat later, and a mouthful of scar tissue and detruitus is half-spat, half-vomited onto the floor.
Brin winces as the man recovers, and inspects his wound. "He's going to need proper medical treatment to take this bullet out..." He stands, and looks over at Joseph. 2Know of anywhere he can be taken?"
Joseph shakes his head. "Rebel base, possibly. It's closer than Bledavic, and we don't have any facilities in Dazil." He takes a drink of stolen liquor. "Course, he could just refrain from doing heavy lifting. Simpler, certainly."
Brin glares at Joseph. "None at all? Not even a doctor that could remove it and bandage him up?!?". He doesnt know wether to believe Joseph. "I've no idea where this rebel base is, and Bledavik is probably too far. You mean to say you've no medical fecilities at _all_? Not even for your troops?..." he looks down at the man again. "What I did for him prevented him from dying from trauma. He'll bleed to death, or die of blood poisoning soon if he doesn't get help..." o 0 ( ...don't you even care?... ) Brin keeps the last part in, just about.
A low, regular growl starts to emit from the falen barkeep, as he breathes laboriously, an unhealthy-sounding rasping coming at each breath.
Joseph rolls his eyes up. "You know, you're a pretty bad liar. Why don't you try again? Expecially the bit about the rebel base." He takes a glass from behind the counter and pours some wine into it. "Here, have a drink."
Brin is almost shouting now. "Well, perhaps I do have some idea where the base is. That's not important now! This man is going to die!"...he stares at Joseph in disbelief. "It _is_ true. You genuinely don't care. It doesn't bother you...". He runs a hand through his hair in despair. "I don't believe it...".
Joseph shakes his head saddly. "You ever shoot someone?" he asks simply.
Brin hangs his head, and says nothing.
Joseph shrugs. "Well, the first time, it's like hell." He waves a hand at the bartender. "The second time-- well, it's no party, but it's easier. After that..." He shrugs. "Death means nothing to a soldier. I gave up my morals for a cause. You haven't."
Brin stares up at Joseph. "Following a cause doesn't always involve giving up your morals. A cause is not always furthered by blind violence. Blind violence breeds blind violence, don't you realise that? i would have thought a fighter as experienced as yourself would know that..." he raises his head, and stares Joseph full in the face. "And you're correct. I haven't given up my morals for any cause. Neither your cause, or the cause of the rebels. You should realise that. You should also realise that it's because of your love of blind violence that I have to practice my Faith in secret, always hiding. Where's the honour in that? You have no honour. You gave that up the moment you stripped yourself of all moral liability." His nostrils flare, and he stand defiant, genuinely not caring what happens next.
Joseph shakes his head. "You've got it all wrong, father. What kind of ant do you prefer, red or black?"
Brin starts, and looks puzzledly at Joseph. "Ants? What are you talking about?"
Joseph smiles slightly. "That's how much I care about violence and not. I don't love violence, but you think I do, simply because I don't oppose it. In truth, I would like the war to be won, because then I could retire, and maybe get some fishing in. That's all this conflict is to me, a damn waste of time."
Brin stares at Joseph, and seems to get his point. "You're quite unaware...of how many people agree with you on that one...". His gaze softens. "If you claim you are a reasonable man, then grant me, an agent independant of this conflict, one request.".
Joseph sniggers quietly. "Oh, sure, for an /independant/ agent. Name it."
Brin puts his hands on his hips. "Well, just this. Allow me to go about my business in peace. I'm not affiliated with either side. You know as well as I that 'Ethos' does work for Solaris at times. I'm not your enemy. All I ask is not to be treated as one.".
Joseph rolls up his eyes. "God, how naieve do you think I am? Or do you really think Corporal Kale is that disloyal? I'm a bit supprised at it myself, but he's the best man I have." He glares at Brin. "Why don't you just ask for an APc to drive the man off in and be done with it?"
The Barkeep emits a low groan, and attempts in vain to turn over on his side.
Brin leans on the bar, and sighs. "This has nothing to do with Kale, or anyone. I made my request. If you refuse to believe me, fine. We now have something of an impasse here. You don't believe anything I say, nor I you. What would you propose we do?"
The Barkeep slumps bak into the prone position, and begins wheezing again, quieter this time.
Joseph waves a hand at the door. ""I'd propose you stop treating me like a child, accept the fact that I know you're on good terms with the rebels and would shoot me given the chance, and go drive the incredible Mr. Target here off to the Yggdrasil. If you have any better ideas, I'd be thrilled to debate them with you, but our friend might not appriciate the lull."
Brin sighs. He looks down, first to the fallen man, then himself. He carefully walks around the bar, and toward Joseph's table. He gingerly, and slowly removes his pistol from its holster, and lays it flat on the table in front of Joseph. "There...", he looks into Joseph's eyes. "If you fell I am such a threat, then take it. Otherwise, let me be to get on with my work...". He turns his back, and starts heading back behind the bar to retrieve the slumped form of the barkeep.
Joseph chuckles. "You're certainly prideful. Shame on you, a priest at that. All you have do do is ask, and a vehicle is yours." He takes the gun and slips it into his jacket.
Dropped.
Brin kneels beside the barkeep, and suddenly, he is bolt upright, and the barkeep is draped over his shoulder. He emerges from behind the bar, and looks Joseph in the eyes again. "That would be ... decent of you...".
Joseph nods. "Yes, it would."
You say, "Well, lead the way, then."
Joseph blinks. "Excuse me, but I never heard any requests, or even the magic word." He takes a drink. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."
Brin never breaks his eye contact with Joseph. He will never apologise to this...evil, evil man. Evan if he has to carry this man all the way back to the base. Without a word, he turns, and strides to the door.
Joseph shakes his head. "Huberis. Some say the greatest sin of all. And it may be costing that man's life, simply because you can't say 'Please give me a dune-buggy.'" He saddly shakes his head. "Forgive you, father, for you have sinned."
If ever Brin were to feel least like an Etone, and most like a person, who is staring at the very face of cold, ignorant, unfeeling evil, it is now. He turns in the doorway. "You...". he intones, in the calmest voice he can muster. "You are in no position to talk about sin.". He turns again, and exits through the tavern door.