The Shrine — a dingy bar in the middle of the station, and my favorite port of call. I've become intimately familiar with the bartenders here over my week stay, extended due to complications in the negotiations with Lady Corinne's people. I like this place more than the upscale bar on the observation deck for many reasons — not the least of which is that it doesn't have any windows. It's crowded with salt-of-the-earth types, the common workers of the station, and transients between systems. It reminds me of my time on pilgrimage, and in the lower ranks of the anvil. The walls are adorned with a collection of religious artifacts salvaged from before the purge, and the liquors are well stocked.
I'm sitting at the bar, sipping at an imported whiskey and enjoying the music.
Alvega, what are you doing here?