Chapter 50: Front 25 – The Full Abhailen Experience!

Sabban felt mildly annoyed. Not very annoyed, the foggy haze over his alcohol addled mind saw to that, just mildly.

After finally getting to a suitable establishment he had expected to settle down for the evening in a nice quiet corner - His companions unfortunately had other ideas.

 They had ended up pub-crawling, moving from place to place while disturbing locals in-between.  Currently they had stopped in front of a jewellery shop, a very high end one based on its street facing display window and myriad of shiny rocks.

There were pros mind you - Sure the trio were loud, overbearing, childish and nigh-on impossible to keep sitting still - But there were indeed positives.
 Sabban had at a rough count, and indeed he knew it to be only a rough count in his current state - Bought exactly 1 drink all night.

Much to his pleasure the older men seemed to of convinced themselves they all had some sort of responsibility to buy the most rounds - Commander Nate Novel, Captain of the Am-Fluchtig, leader of the Tristain Flotilla, insisted it was his job to buy for his subordinates.

 Tomo 'something-or-other' (Sabban was long past the point of such details), squadron leader of the Rinie's Vijaik squad and second highest ranking pilot in the fleet after Kolme - Insisted that Nate as leader shouldn't have to pay for anything.
 Kolme Nilas, 'technical' field commander of the group or something - Appeared to Sabban to be a little more sober than the rest, opting to buy plenty of rounds - Usually when Nate & Tomo's bickering was taking too long.

 
The only time Sabban had begrudgingly had to purchase his own refreshments had been when Kolme went for a smoke - Sabban had seen him do so before, although not often.
 Rumour had it he had once been like a chimney at all hours of the day - Now he apparently only had the odd one when stressed. Had he been more sober, Sabban might of wondered what had the older man worried.
 Nate and Tomo had both decided they too would try smoking and followed Kolme to the designated area like over-excited school boys - To his chagrin, Sabban had at-last been forced to buy his own drink as he watched the two react badly to Kolme's somewhat top-end brand cigarettes - Luckily this bad response had prevented any more smoke-breaks, much to Sabban's delight.

Now for reasons he didn't entirely care to understand, they stood in-front of the fancy jewellery shop.

"Hey-hey, do you think she'd a' like that one?" Commander Novel said pointing to a particularly expensive looking piece.
 Tomo at his side was quick to respond between fits of hiccups;
 "Ha... Sheen's... Way out of..... Your League!"

Nate frowned indignantly, then looked as though he might cry - "I know.....But I can still try!"

"Heh, what 'bout you 'Colm?" Tomo half-giggled, his usual perfect soldier's stance completely shattered in Sabban's mind.
 Kolme scratched at his scalp loosely, "Ah, well, I guess something nice and crimson, earrings or a hair-clip maybe..."
From his place a few paces back from the bumbling fools Sabban scowled at this last comment;
 "Stupid, senile, dense old man, her hair is red so why would you buy something that would just blend in with it?!"

All three of the window-shopping men looked at Sabban in surprise - They had individually all come to the same conclusion that Sabban was either a silent drunk, or (more likely) that he hated the lot of them - His sudden outburst left them in silent bemusement.
 Sabban tutted at this frivolous response and turned to walk up the street, past the jewellery shop's concerned looking, underpaid security guard - It was nearing a quarter of an hour since they left the last pub and he was starting to feel the bite.
 Kolme quickly spoke up - "Sorry lads, you two buy ye're shinnies, I'll keep the lad company, catch up with us at the next pub a'ight?"
 And with that he strode off to catch up with his young friend.

****

It wouldn't be for until some hours later that the odd group finally ran out of steam and settled into one final public-house. Sitting in a small booth the quartet had drunk themselves into Sabban's favourite state of being - A drunken stupor.
 And for all the mild annoyance along the way, the pub crawl had eventually proven its worth - This last place was cheaper, smaller and had an old fashioned fire burning to fill the room with warmth and pleasant smells (even if the fuel for it was artificial) - For Sabban it was paradise.
 And it didn't stop there either, the barkeep was a good old fashioned stoic, never saying more than absolutely needed or trying to start any pointless conversations, the live Aardig's week music here was little more than a middle aged man loosely strumming at a guitar - 'Nirvana'.

Glancing up from staring lovingly into his pint, Sabban gazed disdainfully at 1st. . . At Mr.Tomo, asleep in a pool of his own drool on the table, beside him - Clearly a hopeless light-weight, for they must surely have hours left in this fine evening to go.
 Nate the puppet was at the bar, earning Sabban's respect by keeping the drink flowing.
Across from him was his direct boss, his wingman, his apparently super human companion - Kolme Nilas, who somehow, beyond belief if you asked Sabban - Appeared to still be mostly sober, not completely of course. His words were slurred and his posture even more lax than usual - But clearly he was still aware of the world around him.
 
"What d'ya mean they're all rejected!" Half-burped the voice of Nate.
 Sabban focused a little more on counter top hearing this and noticed a dozen or so cards on it - It might at other times of been of interest to see so many in the hands of a high ranking military office, right now it was simply an obstacle to the next round of drinks.
 The bald headed, muscular barkeep simply shock his head. Kolme agilely got up and made his way over to Nate, taking him by the shoulder before steering him gently towards one of the booth's benches.
The intoxicated man immediately slumped over onto the bench, tears in his eyes;
 "My money, all my money, is this why they hate me?"

Kolme raised an eyebrow - "Who hates you Sir?" - He said gently.

"The bridge crew, they all went on a big party but I wasn't invited - 'No Captains aloud' they said, it'd make things awkward to have their boss there, they said - Aren't I a cool boss fella's?!"
 Nate wailed, tears streaming ridiculously from his eyes.

Kolme patted him lightly on the shoulder, "There, there sir, you're a very 'cool' boss - Right Sab-lad?"

"Drink."

The older man sighed despairingly, walking back over to the counter to collect Nate's discarded wallet contents and acquire just two glasses more of the 'good stuff'.
 By the time he waddled back over Nate had seized crying and fallen to sleep himself, splayed out on the padded bench - Sabban however eagerly accepted the beverage.
 "And then there we're two eh?" Kolme mumbled.

----
"You've done alright for yourself tonight lad." Kolme remarked as Sabban nursed his newest glass, trying to break the ice between the two remaining conscious soldier;
 "Between drinks and his present for Emilia, Nate's spent his 'hole life savings! Ha, but you've bough what, two or three drinks at most, all for yere'self?"

Sabban wearily glanced up at the man - "That a problem?"

"No lad, you're alright - Rest of us officers earn more than you anyway, least we 'an do."

"I'm an officer too asshat! N-sin ya know..."

"Ah, right you are - But ya' only got that recently, plus let's be honest, you're more like my corporal than an officer."

"Funn-y coming from you - You're just a crap sergeant pretending to be a lueitiy- a boss-man - An' yo'ju only got promoted recently too, what's with all your doo?"

"Heh, no family, no 'obbys, no woman, no mortgage - I end up with a lot for spending on fancy smokes and booze I'll admit ta' that."
 Sabban frowned, a little taken aback by the honesty of the statement and growingly more peeved at how sober Kolme clearly still was, despite drinking as much as him;
 "No family?! Pah, like heck, I bet you got an ex-wiffy and a bastard child hiden' somewhere - Your type always do."

Kolme cracked a smile, but his heart clearly wasn't in it - "Sorry to disappoint lad, nothing like that.  And why a 'bastard' child in particular?"

"Liar, I bet she left ya cause you're crappy with kids - Like that whole A-M-eye thing, you prob's hit the kiddy or something!"

----
Silence fell between the two, as even in his ruined state Sabban released that might of been a little much, not that he felt inclined to apologies or any such.
 Kolme gently laid down his own glass;
"Nope, never had any little ones to hit, and I'd like to think I would be a little better than that if I did have any."

"What'll you do Kolme, when the wars over..."

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"Ah, well, that's quite the question lad, guess you really 'ave drunk alot."
 
Sabban reared up groggily at the mention of alcohol, "Got nothing to do with it! I just hate you is all - I'd almost forgotten how much I hate you, you know, but then station 9 reminded me all over again.
 You and your stupid 'fight against fate', pah! For you just dodging a bullet to save your own life is a battle with the friggin Universe - You wouldn't know fate if it hit ya in the stupid face."

Kolme shrugged - "You're probably right, but ya know lad - Sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning, well sometimes that's all what it means to fight fate for some folks, you should know that more than anyone."

"I been thinking ya know. We should look for enhancers..."

"You what?! Sabban the heck yo--"

"They work for Scarlet don't they? She's the only reason we're still alive ain't she - She held off the Casnel, she captured that Moncha-asshole - She got more skill than any of us 'cause of those speical drugs - We're on Abhaile right? Someone must know a way to get some, maybe we'd stand more of a chance."

"Sab-lad, the average life expectancy for people who use the shite she's on is only a year or two -
 She's an exception, some abnormal gene pool or just dumb luck, whatever the case you'd be throwing your life away and even I wouldn't let you do tha--"

"You let us pilot! Isn't that the same, isn't that as lethal as any drug?!"

"..... We're soldiers, no one forced us to fight, we signed up kid - You could still quit, Bayley Mechanics give jobs to those who want out, keeps them safe from TSU-s agents and away from the battlefield - You're already a qualified test pilot, you could probably leave easier than most."

"Heh, 'no family, no 'obbys, no woman, no morgage' wasn't that what you said?
 Where would I go Kolme, they're all dead and my fathers never wanted anything but for me to be a soldier - I've got no home, nowhere to go, no savings."

"If all this is about money, I'd--"

"No, no its not that old man - I send all my money away anyway..."

"To where?"

"......... Shasha's mom, she hasn't got anyone else left now - There ain't no-one else to pay the hospital bills.."

----
"Will you still come with me again Kolme?" The young man said after a few silent moments.

" 'Course I will lad."

"Even though I call you names and say I hate you?"

"Ha, we're proper men aren't we, too stupid too hold a grudge long."
 He grinned back.

Sabban slumped forward onto the faded cheap-wood of the table, the sounds of the lone guitarist in the opposite end of the room returning to his senses as his rage subsided to nausea;
 "You're wrong ya know - All people could die at any time, every-time you cross the road you might get unlucky - We became soldiers to protect people - Not to be used as cannon-fodder, I never signed up to be just some stupid number and neither did my friends ...27..."

"Maybe lad - Look I think it's time we got going eh? I don't think this talks doin' either of us much good."

"No!" Sabban suddenly shouted rearing back up, "I can still go for more, more, I can hold ma' liquor just as good as you old man - Here look 'ere."
 Reaching into his tattered jacket Sabban fumbled for a little bit before retrieving a wallet - Emptying most of its contents onto the table awkwardly he rifled through small change and crumpled bills before stopping upon a couple shinier pieces tucked into the seams of the wallet.

"Lad?"
 Sabban's eyes, his heavily bagged, bloodshot eyes, become surrounded in pools of tears - He tenderly picked out two pieces of folded photo paper, a rarity these days - And shakily handed them over to Kolme;
 "They're all gone Kolme, all gone..."

Kolme tenderly accepted the photos, unfolding them carefully he uncovered two photos from around a year prior. One illustrated a raised angle view of a house-party, presumable taken by someone precariously up on a step ladder or some such - A wide number of youths in their late teens, drinking, dancing, one couple even kissing in the back corner.
 A banner strung across one wall simply stating 'Farewell Party'.

He recognised some faces, others he hadn't had the chance to meet before it was too late.
 He was pretty confident there were only two left that were still alive in the photo - One was the short frame of Una O' Conchabhair - The other was a young lad, tall, probably handsome and bright eyed - Unrecognisable as the man currently sitting across from him crying into his drink - Sabban Vint.
 The lad began to trace his finger across the faces on the second photo - This one was more focused, in the background were the blurry shapes of a celebratory crowd of some sort, carrying rainbow coloured flags and banners with a backdrop of the familiar shapes of a Bannerman street -  To the fore was five smiling figures, for once dressed in causal clothes.
"Tall one's Milly, Ennya is the other boy next to me--"

"I remember their names lad."

"Really? Even when you've seen so many die, you still remember them all Kolme?"

"No lad, not them all - But I have you to remind me of these names."

"Who will remember our names? How much longer can we keep running Kolme, the Casnel, the fortress, the submarine - The heck can we keep fighting those?"

"Thanks to you lad, that Fortress-thingy must be out for repairs, for a-bit atleast, we captured that Moncha man too - None of that would of happened without you being there, you shot when I was too afraid to."
 Sabban shook his head wearily, "Not enough, never enough - We'll all still die. They're all dead Kolme, all of 'em. How long till Scarlet overdoses? And Una, she has a friggin panic attack at the site of a Nation-state - How long can we last hey?"

----
 Kolme looked around the table, at the awkward sleeping positions of Nate and Tomo and across at the tear stained, desperate face of Sabban - He reached into his pocket to find his communicator and call the ship to send out a ride;
 "Listen lad, try not to think about stuff like that so much - We'll make it somehow, we have so far right? Leave all this abstract thinking to old men like me, that's what we're for ok? We can handle tomorrow as it comes, one step at a time."

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