Nothing In The 'Verse One-Shot
Just A Quiet Drink

Moon of Xing Yun, orbiting Gonghe. White Sun.
Bobby's Bar.

Bobby was a contented man. He owned his bar outright, and had plenty of regular clientele, decent income to support his family, and best of all he got to do what he loved. He'd been bartending all his life, since he was old enough to work.

Today, though, he felt the need to remind himself of his contentedness. Though he lived within the Core, he was always sympathetic to the Independent movement. So while today, Unification Day, was often his busiest, he had to put up with all sorts of drunken speechery.

Wiping the clear liquid off his spotless bar with a clean rag, the middle-aged man pushed his lanky brown hair out of his face, attempting not to roll his eyes at the current drunken specimen of Alliance-loving revelry. "An' I knoooow y'all believe same as I, in this great... great... 'Liance!" Rowland, one of his regulars, bawled out.

Bobby just sighed. It was going to be a long night still.

As he was putting away his rag, his head perked up at the sound of the door to his bar opening. In walked five very different individuals.

In the lead was a tall, lanky woman. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail that bobbed behind her as she scanned the room with startlingly bright green eyes. The bartender could tell with an experienced eye that she was likely a spacer, wearing tan cargo pants and a black shirt. She had a well-worn holster slung low across her hip, and a deadly-looking automatic encased within. Her short leather flight jacket, Bobby noted, was brown, but that perhaps wasn't significant.

Next to her walked a shorter grizzled bear of a man. He had graying black hair and bushy beard like some xiang ba lao ([derogatory] hick/bumpkin) from the Rim. His blue coveralls were stained with engine grease, and he didn't seem to be armed.

In contrast was the next individual through the door, a medium-sized man with a shock of red hair on his head, and wearing spotless ship's coveralls that were Alliance-gray. He also seemed unarmed, and looked around with an easy smile.

Bobby's eyes were drawn to the couple who brought up the rear. The hulking man was a big hun dan (bastard), fairly tall and wide across the shoulders. He wore a tight black shirt and grey pants in a military style, with a large gun belt buckled at his waist and an equally large gun holstered. The green eyes in his shaven head matched those of the woman in front. His tattooed arm was around the shoulders of a slim, beautiful woman with Asian features, long black hair worn loose and wearing a neat purple tunic under a light gray coat that matched her pants. As she pointed to a free table near the door, Bobby could see a sidearm poking out from a shoulder holster under the jacket.

The first woman approached the bar, asking over her shoulder if there were any preferences for drinks. The big shaven-headed man, likely her brother, grunted out "Let's get sake, that work for you Dani?" in a deep baritone.

The woman nodded and turned back to the bartender, her eyes first examining the animated Rowland. Eyes sparkling with humor, she requested a tokkuri of warm sake and five chirori, the small metal cups that sake was traditionally served in. Bobby nodded, and pulled out one of the bottles kept warm in a water-filled box behind him, along with the requested chirori. Smiling her thanks, the woman walked back to join her companions. The big man had slid into the U-shaped booth on one side last, facing the door and next to the Asian woman. The redhead sat at the far back, and the tall woman slid in next to the grizzled man, facing the rest of the bar.

Bobby returned to his cleaning, serving up a few drinks to those who requested them. Rowland had started in on his favorite topic, his denunciation of Browncoats and general disparagement of their ancestry, oftentimes questioning their parentage and mating habits in particular. He usually just tuned out Rowland's vile rants. Looking up to see if anyone needed refills at the bar, he noticed that the tall woman had put her cup down and was scowling at the drunken speech-maker with her arms crossed. The others were looking at her worriedly, except for the greasy man next to her, who appeared to be grinning (though it was hard to tell with the giant beard covering his face).

"Ai ya, huai le (shit on my head)," Bobby muttered. This could be bad.

Sure enough the tall spacer ignored the quiet pleading of the redhead and rose from her seat. She sauntered towards the back and the restrooms, though on the way her shoulder bumped into Rowland, hard, cutting off his ramblings.

"Hey, biao zi (bitch)," he spat angrily. "Watch yerself!"

The woman stopped, and just turned slowly with a predatory smirk on her face. "Oh, sorry about that, you sorry excuse for a fay fay duh pee-yen (baboon's asshole)."

Rowland's face turned beet-red and sputtered, "Why you..."

The woman cut him off, sneering, "Oh come on, a go tsao de (dog fucking) purple-belly like yourself can't take the same insults you dish out? How pathetic."

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Rowland swung his arm back to take a punch. Bobby winced in anticipation, the drunk could hit like a hover truck. He was shocked, though, to see Rowland's fist intercepted by a meaty hand; he had not noticed the big bearded fellow sidle up behind Rowland.

"Bad idea, pigu (ass)," the greasy man said cheerily, and then laid Rowland out with one punch.

The first woman smirked back at her friend. "So cute when they're drunk, ain't they?" He chuckled his agreement, which cut off as the rest of the bar, save those from their table, rose up to confront the pair.

The tall woman spoke over her shoulder, "Keith you wanna help out?"

"Maybe you hadn't noticed the distinct lack of a brownish-color coat on my body?" the huge shaven-headed man responded.

"Jess, how about it, female solidarity?"

The beautiful raven-haired girl spoke up, smirking. "But I just got my nails done!"

"Cory, c'mon buddy, help your Captain out!"

Grinning, the redhead held up his chirori. "Just got my drink, lemme finish it first. Besides, I told you it was a bad idea."

"Right," the woman replied, "you're all on septic duty. Mike? Let's do this."

The two waded with abandon into the brawl that quickly developed. Bobby stayed well back and made sure all the bottles of alcohol were out of reach. He mused that it was possible the cost of repairs might outweigh the amusement at seeing Rowland being trod on repeatedly, as well as the halting of further U-Day speeches for the night. Maybe not though.

The fight rapidly went downhill for the two that had been called Dani and Mike. Both had taken numerous punches and Dani had a split lip, but were still managing to stand, practically back-to-back. Until, that is, a spinning kick from the lanky woman sent one of the drunks flying backwards to land on their companion's table, spilling sake everywhere. The big guy, Bobby thought he'd been called Keith, shrugged and stood up. He took one stride forward, grabbed a drunk by the neck and flung him five meters back towards the door.

The other two companions, grinning, moved in to participate.

It was, upon much consideration, the biggest blow-out of a bar fight Bobby had ever seen. And he'd seen quite a few to compare it with. When the dust settled, there were several broken tables and chairs lying about. One of the latter had been wielded against the lanky woman, but the one called Keith had just plucked it from his hand and smashed it across the drunkard's face.

All five of the companions were still standing. Granted, Dani was leaning upon the one she had called Jess like she was about to fall over. All of them sported several bruises and cuts, save for the big tattooed man who didn't seem to have a scratch on him. The latter just grinned widely and started walking towards the door as he slapped down a handful of high-value credit chips on top of the bar. "Sorry about the mess," he rumbled.

The other four followed him out, limping. The lanky Captain, still being supported by the smaller woman, spoke up.

"See," she said grinning, spitting out a mouthful of blood, "toldya this was the perfect bar to get a drink on U-Day."


NOTES: Make sure you check out my regular ongoing series that this is based upon, Nothing In The 'Verse.

Thanks for reading, and please review!