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[color=00ff66][b][h3]Nikos[/h3][/b][/color]
Zeppelin #27, Saloon
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Nikos stared wide eyed back at the strange officer [i]who gave him an order to drink...![/i] before moving on to someone else.

Truly, he did not understand the nature of the problem, none of them did. They were all drinking the General's booze! But then most of them weren't Inburian.

If so much as a drop touched his lips, the General, where ever he was, would know. That much he was certain about. But then they raided the empire's gold reserve and were, without doubt, pirates!

It was too much. Turning to face the bar, he saluted the General's liquor collection, then did what any sensible soldier does - he left, heading towards his quarters. They weren't safe yet, and they were going to need sharp minds for the next emergency that came along, not ones reeling with hangovers or still drunk the next day. 

He'd save his drinking where any sailor does - when safely tied up and on liberty.

"Whenever that is," he muttered as he walked into his tiny cabin.