Stromile Keegan, "Napping Underway"

Deep Transport Ship
Passenger Section
Stromile felt his shoulder being shaken gently, rousing him from a
comfortable sleep. "Eh, what's that, who, where?" he mumbled sleepily,
rubbing his eyes. The flight attendant smiled apologetically. "I am sorry
to wake you sir, it's lunch time. Ploughmans?" the uniformed lady asked.
Keegan furled his brow. "Pardon?" he inquired, a little confused. She
repeated herself. "I'm a miner, I'm no ploughman!" he retorted a little
irritated. Wasn't it obvious, his miner's cap sitting jauntily on his
head. "No sir, it's a traditional lunch platter.." she explained,
wondering where the heck this old codger had spent the last hundred years.
"Ohhh. Of course. Squares and tubes I s'pose. Lay it on me, may as well
get to grubbin." He pulled down the attached table and reached into his
work vest, pulling out a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and sipped a
good pull. He noticed another passenger looking at him in a nearby seat.
He tipped the flask in salute. "Care for a shot?" he asked amiably. The
young man shook his head, obviously not thirstly enough to put his lips
where Keegan had. He did offer his hand and name however. "Hi, Aran
Hares." Keegan shook his hand. "Stromile Keegan. You don't like
whiskey?" Hares looked at him blankly. "Well, not this early in the day."
he covered, not wanting to openly insult the old man. "Ah, you young
pokes. Refusing the lord's own good juice. What do they teach in school
these days. That's what's coming to this generation." Hares seemed to be
changing his mind on giving Keegan a piece of his mind but their meals
arrived just then.
"So where you headed Keegan?" Hares asked between mouthfuls. Keegan had
just recovered from a coughing fit, due to the spicy mustard. "Master
Chief Petty Officer Keegan youngster. Decked out to the JMC Blue Dwarf. I
guess they're a little undermanned in the mining department. Quarries,
tunnels, you name it. That's my specialty." "Really? That's where I am
going too." Keegan nodded thoughtfully. "Well I guess we be crewmates,
mate. Stewardess, two drafts!" he called to the waitress who looked cross
but headed out to get his order. Their drinks arrived and they clanked
them together. "I s'pose it's good luck to say a toast..hmm let's see.
To..to.." Keegan appeared to be quickly getting tired, whether from age,
drink or food and his voice was waning. Without warning he slid to the
side against Hares, spilling his drink on the table and snoozing
contentedly. Hares swore loudly but it did not wake the venerable miner,
his mining cap now obscuring his face although loud buzzlike snores were
audible.
"Get off me old man!" yelled Hares, pushing at his form, trying to maneuver
him back into his own seat. Keegan stirred, shaking his head, sputtering
back into wakefulness. "You fell asleep!" the younger man accused,
pointing at the spilled beer which the stewardess was angrily cleaning up
with a mop. Keegan looked indignant. "I did not! Look sonny, a man my
age doesn't have time to sleep!" Hares rolled his eyes. "Well you found
some just a moment ago." he replied. Keegan hugged, pulling out a pipe
from a pocket. "Kids these days, no respect for their elders. Well, back
in the old days you'd get a switching from dawn til dusk just for thinking
bad thoughts! They made em tougher in those days, believe me sonny."
Hares didn't look too impressed but Keegan carried on for about ten more
minutes until he fell asleep again, his pipe still burning. "Crazy old
man." he didn't hear Hares murmur.