Unsurprisingly the bar was dark and quiet when I entered - catering primarily to podders, the news of an upcoming sov switch of the area had left the usual patronage in various stages of evacuation. The only other guest, in fact, was a young Minmatar punk who was helping herself to various bottles left behind on the shelves behind the bar. Smiling, I made my way over.
“You look worse than I feel”, I said by way of greeting.
Myra barely looked up. “Ugh. Don’t. Even. Mention. It.”
I hopped up to sit on the bar counter. “Try Arcturian Mega-Vodka. You’ll feel bad again tomorrow, but at least today will be a pleasant memory.”
She looked up to me. “You’re of course an expert in this.”
“Maybe…”, I conceded. “But it wasn’t me who got drunk yesterday and went off loud-mouthing the leader of the attacking alliance in local.”
“I didn’t know that he was the leader, ok?!”, she snarled at me. “I thought he was just another line-grunt, and when he came along with his drunk sense of self-importance, I let him have it.” She emptied her glass and looked at it morosely. “Probably not my best performance…”
I grabbed a glass and bottle she had left open, and poured one for myself. “Nope, not at all.” I took a sip, and shuddered. “It was entertaining, though.” I eyed my drink, unsure if I should let it win. “What are your plans now?”
Myra opened another bottle. “Apart from finding a dog to get hairs from? Ship out to hi-sec, like everyone else.” She paused for a moment. “I might stay there for a while, because…” She paused again.
I took another sip of my drink, willing to face the challenge of it. It still tasted like engine degreaser. “Shush - she’s a good catch.” I winked at her.
She had refilled her glass meanwhile. “Well, you’d be the one to know…”, she replied before taking a drink. Her grimace was newsworthy, and she coughed several times. “What the…”, she began, but then her voice croaked in defeat.
“Dog enough for you?”
“Oh yes!”, she replied, with teary eyes. “And you?” she asked, before taking another drink.
I looked at my glass for a while before answering. “Factional Warfare borderzone.” I replied eventually. “Null just doesn’t do it for me, and I do have other obligations as well these days.”
She coughed again, and nodded. “It must be nice to have a place to call home…”
I refilled her glass.
“It’ll happen, Kitten, trust me.”