A New Home and Old Memories

“There,” said Plisken as he stepped away from his creation. Before him was a fine wooden door, a brass knocker set in the middle. This was the door to his new home. Of course the home wasn’t completed yet but this was the first step.
Having been teleported mid fire-fight, Plisken found himself on the Promenade, Katrina’s body still on his shoulders. After calmly explaining to a thousand and one suspicious rodents that her death was not in fact his fault, although it was, he placed in stasis until a course of action was taken, namely what funeral she would have.
From then till here, Plisken had busied himself with his new project – making a new home. He had the perfect location too. It was on a small hill overlooking a village that had been constructed in the Arboretum, it populace included both the sentient species of lizards and rodents. It was nice enough, and his house was to be converted from a small shed. It wasn’t too far from the Promenade either, a short mile in fact.
“’Sup dude,” said Holly’s disembodied face on a nearby screen that was built into the workstation Plisken was using.
“Hey Hol,” Plisken said, quiet happy for a change, “You wanted me to remind you when Phi and Jade were free, right?”
“Oh, is that now?”
“No, it was half and hour ago.”
“Hol,” began Plisken, although it seemed pointless to carry on.
Plisken packed away his tools and hid them in the shed – the Huzzards might try and sell them. He began his walk to the medical bay, although it was rather makeshift.
“This day is truly dark,” Plisken said to himself as a light rain began to fall from the simulated sky. “How many people have we lost because of our…” Plisken sighed, “Incompetence.”
It was true, Katrina was dead, Alex was dying, Jade was dying, Artemis lost his body and Jay, well, Jay had lost his wife. Not even the great Thomas Plisken had fared well. But Plisken was recovering. Quietly recovering, as was his way. There might be a few funerals soon.
“Jay?” Plisken said as he passed by a small bar on the Promenade, the dutiful captain bent over table with a drink in his hand and sad look in his eye.
“Thanks, by the way,” Jay mumbled, his eyes firmly locked on the bottom of the pint glass, “For making sure we got Katrina back.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Plisken, not sure how to handle the situation. He gave a re-assuring pat on Jay’s back but it probably didn’t cure his troubles.
Jay kicked out a seat under the table, nodding his head into it for Plisken. The captain then gave a curt nod to the bar tender, a nod from the small rodent in return.
“Have you ever lost someone?” Jay asked, still not looking up from his drink.
Plisken sighed, “More than I like to admit.” For a brief moment they all flashed in front of his eyes – their faces and voices. His heart jumped, his stomach turned and his mind flew to dark places. But then he was back.
“Did you ever loose your wife?”
The bar tender sat down a pint glass in front of Plisken, the same green liquid as in Jay’s.
“What’s this?” said Plisken changing the question.
“20% Vodka, 60% Larger, 5% Scotch, 2% Absinth, 10% beer and 15% medical alcohol.”
“That’s 112%.”
“Exactly,” Jay said before taking another gulp.
Plisken raised the glass to his lips and the foul smell of all the drinks filled his senses. Now, he had drank many, many, many things in his lifetime – even the fabled Pan – Galactic Gargle Blaster. But this? But this?
Plisken coughed as the liquid burned its way down his throat.
"So answer the question," Jay pressed.
Plisken sighed, "I've lost all of them at some point or another. Kate, Garnet, Rebecca. They all died at some point. And then there were my husbands but let's not talk about them."

<Part 1 of however many I make. I'm pressed for time so I'll post the rest on Monday.>