Yeah? Still beats the hell outta Salrilian gin! Eeech!

Beats the hell outta any gin...

Yeah, Salrilian Gin is... well... let's just say it's something of joke the Sals like to pull on naive spacefarers, and it isn't a distilled plant extract, although it's always "fresh squeezed".

Accepts the plaque. Well, I'll be... thanks, old friend. If there's anything else I can do for these associates of yours, tell them they have only to ask. I'd tell my maintdroids to hang this up on the back wall, but they'd probably start doing West Side Story in the middle of the attempt. Guess I'll do it m'self!

Salrilian Gin... now that's some interesting stuff. One try was enough for me and pretty much everyone who's ever ordered one in here.

Though I have heard that with a really BIG slice of lemon (more of a chunk I suppose) even Sal gin becomes palatable..., still melts your throat, but in a nice sort of way.

I think I'll go get another Dr. Pepper...

One DP, coming up. Would you like that with or without a twist of sea bass?

Err, without the sea bass please.

SA eyes the crowd and wonders whether to make his presence felt or not. After all, it has been a while since he last put the whole place in jeopardy...

Yeah, come one in. After all, it's been about five years since that time when I couped the Salrilian Oracular Council and you manipulated everyone to the brink of all out war. Been kinda dull since those days. I've got a shot of Salrilian Gin here with your name on it chuckle.

Salrilian Gin, eh? Been awhile since a bartender last tried to serve me a shot of that. Turned out he was an agent of that Cantharan Prophet whatshisname... damned if I remember. Anyway, took him by surprise when I asked for a second one, though not as much as when I used that second one to force the names of all twelve of Earth's section chiefs out of him.

Exciting times. Almost as exciting as all that business with the Oracular Net and its alleged approaching sentience.

Approaching sentience? We... er, I have no idea what you're talking about.

No, of course not. Now where's that shot?

slide the frothing shot glass across the table, fighting back an adolescent grin All yours, old friend. Although I still have no idea why in the 'verse you'd want to drink that stuff.

My dear, dear Angel. It has been a while, hasn't it? Can't say the old establishment has changed a great deal, excepting the latest craze of the maintdroids, which seems to involve tap shoes. I'm sure you've been off making yourself known across the length and breadth of known space, old friend.

SA picks up the shot, lifts it, savours the smell, and then knocks it back Making myself known? No, I've been busy making myself less known. All that excitement a few years back resulted in far too much attention for my liking. Hell, some federal detective back on Earth accused me of being involved in some plot to overthrow the government. Took a lot of work to have my profile drop low enough to be drinking around here again.

Discretely belching a gout of flame, SA stretches languidly But enough about me. Tap shoes and maintenance robots, you say? That sounds like the makings of an off-Broadway musical.

LCA drops in for a quick shot of Sal Gin.
...funny colour...

The bar's automated defenses target and vaporize the strange alien probe that had held the bar in a stasis field for several weeks. Damn. I hate it when mysterious alien probes pop up univited. Well, only one thing to do now. Salvage! Dons spacesuit and heads for the airlock.

Uhh... you may want to be careful with that airlock. The outer bulkhead hasn't been closing correctly as of late.

Hmm, I guess it may be in a bit of disrepair. I'll take the auxiliary lock in the storeroom, assuming I can find it. That new shipment may have made the route to it a bit hazardous...