It was a slow Tuesday night at the Galactic Dust , a dimly lit cantina on the fringe of the Andromeda trade route. The bar was known for two things: synth-ale that could strip paint, and the holographic jukebox that only played mournful country songs from old Earth.
"WHAT IS SHE DOING?!" Vek screamed.
The “chick” part was debatable; she was a 30-year-old mess in a stained spacesuit, her fiery red hair sticking out of her helmet like a distressed supernova. The “best,” however, was not debatable. Because when Pavla got this wasted, she became the best damn pilot on the wrong side of the galaxy. mydrunkenstar pavla totally wasted chick best
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