Corliss listens to the conversation, smirking a bit. He puts a hand up to his mouth and leans conspiratorially over to Mar.
"Ya are a madman, though, y'know," he whispers loudly, with a grin.
He turns to Elayne and folds his hands in front of him on the bar, still smiling. "Yeah, just came in looking for my brother. Mike and I headed back 'ome, as in the base. It's a bloody mess over there, relocation's a real bastard of a cog. But we made out clean this time, really lucky. Very few casualties, no known security breaches. So I've been 'elping them, like, off and on. They were in real need of groceries. Now there are a few things you don't want to get in the middle of when you're stuck in space with a bunch of humans: Cigarettes, chocolate, and alcohol. And maybe toothpaste and stuff like that." He shakes his head. "Like a bunch of whiny, untended grubs on oatmeal, the lot of them. Never mind we really need things like water and plant food and canned goods."
<Oy, look who's talking, mate,> Mike interjects silently. <Mister 'please pick up some Coco Pops'...Christ in 'eaven.>
<Well. That's your fault, you know.>
<Oh, please. A week off of the stuff and I won't touch it.>
Corliss clears his throat and goes back to smiling.