E. D. F resurgent

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Michael Alexander was sat at the bar of the ‘black hole’, a bar-cum-meeting place aboard Delta base. It was a reasonably large open plan area, and one of the more popular haunts on the station. Surprisingly, it escaped major damage from the utter devastation wrought on the massive installation by repeated Krenaran attacks just over eight months ago. Even now repairs were still ongoing in some of the more badly damaged sections of the station. It was finally adjudged by E.D. F command that it was sufficiently operational again to resume its role as fleet command installation for the navy barely three weeks ago.

Although right now the black hole was quiet, only a handful of other men talked and drank. In the background soft jazz music was playing, though Michael; not being particularly schooled in the jazz players, had no idea who played it. He had come here for one purpose, and one purpose alone; to forget.

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