Apfelschorle with Apple Garnish
Jimmy's Soda Bar was relatively famous for operatives and often pretty packed. The atmosphere was always an ignition of commotion and banter.
According to the Book of KND, there was a heightened need to regulate the flow of distributing soda and other fizzy contraband back in the 1920's so, while Jimmy's opened up to appease the common operative, the Supreme Leader at the time carefully constructed his own secret bar nestled in the deep roots of Moonbase.
It was originally used for sector leaders and the high chain of command to quietly discuss working around the Prohibition and other top secret info. Over the years, the bar became less of a storage hub filled with contraband spritzy hooch and more sophisticated, catering for image and atmosphere of tranquility for higher ups once the Prohibition was overturned, if not for a small while.
Patton had been privy to the bar's location ever since he was promoted to Supreme Drill Sergeant. So far he's never seen more than four people at a time in this dark and quiet bar.
He liked it. It was comforting. Safe.
He used to just sit at the bar and drink, but he became fond of the small booths for a particular reason. While he sipped his soda, he occasionally watched the tea candle float on top of a small disk of water. There was one on every table, always lit and clean. Unlike the rest of Moonbase where cleaning was minimal (see annotation about kids running this shindig), here in this bar it was always pristine and perfect.
Sometimes he would blow out the candle and find himself in his own little dark corner if he didn't want any company. He supposed that was point of having candles be the only light source.
This time he kept it lit and watched his Supreme Leader slip into the opposite side. Sometimes, if she sat in a particular spot, the light of the candle made her smile seem unnaturally brighter.
"What are we having today?" she smiled at him.
He tilted his glass near the candlelight so she can view the warm brown apple beer bubbling pleasantly. As per tradition, she reached for the apple slice attached to the rim of his glass. He wasn't much of a garnish fan in his drinks. "Felt like having the German fizz today. Ever heard of Apfelschorle?"
She experimentally sucked on the slice, tasting the drink first before deliberating. "Yum," she bit the slice in half. "I'll get an order of that then." The bartender nodded when she addressed him and quietly got to work.
It was obvious he didn't feel like initiating small talk, so as bright as a beacon she was, she did the talking. "You're usually at Jimmy's around this time. What brings you to The Mocktail Spritz?"
He made sure he smiled a bit so she didn't take the bite of his retort the wrong way. "What brings you?"
"Nuh-uh. I said it first."
There were only three people in the entire bar. Them and the bartender who quietly worked on cleaning glasses like they were his pride and joy. Still, it was a habit for him to keep his voice down while conversing on Moonbase. The last time he used his drill sergeant voice, Fanny chewed him out all day for 'disturbing the peace' and that 'he was too stoopid to be told a secret because he'd just yell it out like a moron one day'. He opted to prove her wrong.
"I just wanted some peace and quiet," he admitted and took a deep breath. "Rough last few days down in the frozen sticks."
"I heard about the cave-in," she said sheepishly and finished off the fruit. "Can't imagine what it's like being trapped down in the root system with all those screaming cadets."
He shrugged and savored his next swig of fizzy soda. "You get used to it. It's the tight space that gets you. And then when you dig your way out, you're so used to the small space that the outside world feels overwhelming."
"Ah..." When he lowered his glass, she had propped her chin on her hand and watched him intently with those inquisitive brown eyes of hers. All these years and she still had the curiosity of a green cadet.
"Do you want me to give you some space then? Acclimatize and all that good stuff?"
"Nah," he waved it off. And that was that. They sat comfortably in silence across from each other, enjoying their soda and the plush seats of the booth. The Sixth Era Supreme Leader certainly spared no expense building up this private bar.
A wandering thought hit him so well, he just had to say it aloud. "You're the Supreme Leader..."
"I am?" she teased, absently swirling her drink with a straw.
He fell for that pretty easy and smirked. "...you know all sorts of top secret stuff and all that nice junk us poor folk have no clue of."
She stuck her tongue out playfully. "Yeah, but I can't share it with anyone but myself. Kinda sucks. Why? You're not looking to get any important information out of me, are you?" her grin turned mischievous. "I'm obligated to turn you over on your head if you try to press me for it."
The idea of her little lithe form attempting to toss him into one of the booths (and probably succeeding) made him grin. "If you have to subdue me about The Mocktail Spritz, then your top secret info leaves a lot to be desired, sir."
"You want information about The Mocktail Spritz?" she left her straw alone, interest peaked. "That's such an odd request. You know, it's tradition to come up with your own conclusions about the name if that's what you're itching about."
He made a face. "I'm a soldier. I'll leave the 'imagination' part to people like Numbuh 3."
Rachel watched him for a long moment. Then her gaze shifted to the tea candle between them and her voice seemed very far away.
"Drinking soda is a right for everyone. That was the credo of the boy who built this place," she recalled. "His Communications Officer, the girl he secretly loved, didn't think it was worth the risk distributing soda during the Fizz Prohibition."
"They fought constantly and, deciding that there was no end in sight, he retired early. The girl broke down weeks afterward, now shouldered with a responsibility no one wanted as Supreme Leader, and decided to tear all the bars in Moonbase down when she hit the peak of her stress."
Compelled by the story, Patton leaned forward. Even the quiet busy sounds from the bar seemed to have stopped. "And?"
"I'm getting there!" she snorted and started playing with her straw again. "When she reached this secret bar intending on closing it down once and for all, she found the only drinks she secretly enjoyed on every booth, glass bottles on every surface. She cried and couldn't bear to destroy what the boy she loved left behind."
"Mocktails and spritz?"
"Mhmm. Well, not the cheap stuff. They were rare foreign sodas outside of the US. That's why The Mocktail Spritz is one of the few collectors of international fizzeries in the entire Solar System. The Supreme Leader knew this and collected it all in her honor. She upheld it to this day, inspired by his undying love."
Relaxed and a touch saddened by the story, he leaned back and tried to feign coolness. "Well, that was depressing. I was thinking maybe they picked the name because it sounded cool."
"It'd be more depressing if the story was actually true, yeah."
He spat out his soda and hastily tried to pat himself dry when it ended up all over his jacket. "What? You mean it's a lie?"
She shrugged, trying not to laugh. "Who knows. I told you that it's tradition to make up your own interpretation about The Mocktail Spritz, didn't I?"
"I was kinda hoping for something more like, I dunno, the truth?" he complained. "You had me feeling sorry for imaginary people!"
"Yeah, no shiz. Did you forget that I was once a spy for the KND? The best to boot?" she laughed when his jaw dropped. "Oh come on, admit it. I just got my drill sergeant!"
"Maybe. No one would ever believe you though," he raised his glass in toast anyways. Not to her little fibbing, but to that impish smile that brightened what was left of his dampened day.