(Disclaimer: English is my 2nd language and my take on RP / character story telling is quite sarcastic and full of cliches. I don't know, I just like it this way this time. I hope you enjoy it, I do. ;-)
System: BD-13 2439
Station: Abbot Survey
Place: „Broken Motivator“
The bar with its ridiculous name was infamous for being such a boring place that its guests picked a fight regularly for no reason. This shouldn’t be any different today, Mike was foreboding. The bad mood was already cooking for while, about fifteen guys were hanging around, two, three younger ones and a few of older age, the air smelled of frustration, testosterone and old sweat. Women were avoiding this place most of the time like dirty men’s toilets, unless they were of the same kind themselves, looking for decent load of alcohol and some fun with fists and broken chairs. Of all the barkeeper offered was cheap industrial made whiskey and something that tasted like a melancholic memory of something that had been a good beer when you were younger but which actually was made of p* from space rats. The music that was playing had been pretty popular on Leesti once - when the first settlers gained ground there a thousand years ago.
Mike knew this place very well. When his lousy father still shuttled between this system and Orishpucho for years he always ended up drunken at this bar after a day full of work. Younger Mike had been laying already in one of those sleeping-coffins they offer here as accommodation, dreaming of adventures far far away or hoping to be back in Orishpucho soon, where his mom was always waiting for him and his father with good pizza and lemonade, resp. cold beer.
It was pure chance - or just destiny if you want - that older Mike just ended up being here after finishing the dirty job of removing someone ugly from the list of someone else. After such a job it felt right to be here, he thought tired, nipping on his beer can. The guy whose corpse now was orbiting the sun of Masans had been a threat to the local corporation, his marvelous „reputation“ included slave trading, killing, pirating and just being a colossal ole since the day he put his butt into a pilot’s seat. So no reason to feel bad at all, huh? Not so Mike, he was way to soft-hearted for this kind of business, he had to do it because that guy just had been a really colossal ole - and because of the money of course. The latter made him feel even badder about it … ( That’s what happens if you let your kid read comics like „Utopian Tales Of Captain Goody-Two-Shoes“ - or some crap like that. Mike really should have read „Captain Starbuster’s Adventures“ instead, especially the issue, where Starbuster blew up a whole planet after one of his mean arch enemies tried to hide between ugly socialist democrats who dared to think they could protect that bloody coward from an earnest imperial officer. Too bad for them, poor stupid do-gooders. )
Mike had his seventh tallboy already when someone decided that it was a good idea to accompany him. The thirty-something took the chair just in front of him, showing a somewhat nasty grin and strange gaze. Alright, Mike thought to himself, the evening was just about to get more fun.
„Hey.“ the man greeted. His teeth had seen better days, also his nose.
„Hey.“
„'That Viper on deck three yours?“
„The outpost hasn’t got a lot of decks, buddy, everyone here always knows which ship belongs to whom.“
„Oh, excuse me, master pilot! - I’m trying to start a nice conservation here. - No offense!“
Mike took a deep breath and forced himself to show a little smile. „Sorry. - Yes, I’m flying that Viper from deck three. You like it?“
„Oh, yeah. It’s an impressive piece of craftsmanship, no question. I like the finish you’ve got there. How’s it equipped?“
„With loads of good stuff - Are you trying to get me into a sales talk?“ Mike smirked.
„No, just asking. Grade A reactor? Or B?“
„B. With all the stuff I put into it’s … yes, it’s a bit overstrained already. Though it has fourteen point three megawatts of power. I’m thinking of replacing it with an grade A.“
„Jeeesh - what the hell did we got here? A deadly monstrosity? A killing machine?“
Mike bit his lips for a moment, a faint pain hit his heart. „Uhm … well, it’s some kind of jack of all trades, you know? I’m a freelancer most of the time, I need to be prepared. It’s more of a working horse, capable of doing more than one thing.“
„Yeah, freelancer - who isn’t one in these days, ey? Corporations suck.“
„Mh-mh.“
„But you’re a cowboy as well, aren’t ya? Because this place here is for cowboys. You know that?“
„Yep, heh … silly thing being a cowboy in space I believe.“
„Oh, cowboys are cool. Honorable. And tough! Like stone old pig leather or something.“
The nameless man showed a crooked smile.
„Perhaps they’re just a bunch of drunken oles with guns and an unhealthy attitude.“ Mike answered without any irony.
„Don’t be so bitter, comrade. Life’s to short for that. People like you help others. They keep the machine running, they go where nobody else goes. They’re relentlessly and unresting pursuing greater goals and …“
„Uh, come on! - You’re kidding me. Stop that trash!“
The unknown chuckled. „A little bit. But look, here we are. Having a beer and a nice little talk after a day full of hard work. I can tell ya about. Yeah …“
„What do you do for your living?“
„Besides ing people off you’d like to say? - Heh, never mind. I used to kick my dimwitted wife's butt and to bring shady fellows from A to B for a bad price - for them, not for me. But since my dear wife stole my ship and escaped to wherever she thought is a good place, I’m actually without work at the moment.“
Mike blinked. „Sorry to hear that, buddy.“
„No worries! I’ll find her. And then I’ll kill her. After I …“
„Yeah, alright. Got it. - You’re looking for help? Totally fine for me.“
„Nah, not so fast. I’ve got some bucks, I’m rich like some fatso. And this cowboy knows women. Let’s talk a bit more about the nice ship of yours … what I absolutely find shocking is its name - what kind of stupid ole names his own ship Ridonkolous Jack? I mean … really - what an unbelievable crappy name is this?“
Mike showed a subtle smile although he noticed, that the tone of this conversation was changing suddenly. „It gives me a few, precious seconds more if I get in serious trouble. - Really, it does.“
„Yeah? I’m impressed! That’s a truly ridonkolous idea … But you know, the point is, this name somehow reminds me of an good old friend of mine. “
Mike slowly breathed in before he answered: „Just by chance, mh? - What happened to your good friend then?“
„I shot him in his face! Ha!“ His counterpart started laughing out loudly but it sounded very dry and dopey as it always did.
„Yeah, yeah … fine … - smart ass! - Get some beer first!“
Mike cut the conversation short and splashed the rest of his beer into the face of the broadly grinning man. But this one knew the dance to well and hit him surprisingly fast right on the chin. Since this wasn’t the first fight either Mike was ever drawn into, he countered with a hefty punch in his opponents stomach while pushing all his weight forward.
After a few seconds nobody noticed the deeply desperate sigh of the barkeeper anymore. „Oh, please … what the hell is so wrong with you, guys?! What did life do to you so badly?! Damn you! All of you! You sons of …“
A half an hour later all what Mike felt was pain. The barkeeper had alerted the station’s police officers, who usually hadn’t been very eager to react fast, and closed the place yet another time, after the last guest was „guided“ to the door by those officers. They also knew their stuff all to well and took only one with them who was looking pretty bad.
Mike was sitting on the ground with his back leaned at the wall, cursing himself. But somehow, somewhere between all the pain he felt some kind of inner relief. For a little moment he forgot the guy he just killed a few hours ago, forgot that some ugly day he will be out there himself, floating endlessly through the space, another dead body with a very questionable past. Just like his father told him. Should he had stayed in Orishpucho instead, stepping in his father’s shoes a millennium ago? At that time he didn’t thought so. He was all about becoming an honorable officer in the great federations’s fleet. (Yes. Of course. What do you think? Did I mention those great comics he read as a kid already?) - But he failed miserably. End of story.
„Good fight, man.“ he heard the voice coming from the one who started all the mess. „Really … good fight. You know - you were right. I’m actually looking for some tough guy who could help me out. And it will pay off for you …“
Mike closed his eyes. „Yeah, I guess so.“
… to be continued
System: BD-13 2439
Station: Abbot Survey
Place: „Broken Motivator“
The bar with its ridiculous name was infamous for being such a boring place that its guests picked a fight regularly for no reason. This shouldn’t be any different today, Mike was foreboding. The bad mood was already cooking for while, about fifteen guys were hanging around, two, three younger ones and a few of older age, the air smelled of frustration, testosterone and old sweat. Women were avoiding this place most of the time like dirty men’s toilets, unless they were of the same kind themselves, looking for decent load of alcohol and some fun with fists and broken chairs. Of all the barkeeper offered was cheap industrial made whiskey and something that tasted like a melancholic memory of something that had been a good beer when you were younger but which actually was made of p* from space rats. The music that was playing had been pretty popular on Leesti once - when the first settlers gained ground there a thousand years ago.
Mike knew this place very well. When his lousy father still shuttled between this system and Orishpucho for years he always ended up drunken at this bar after a day full of work. Younger Mike had been laying already in one of those sleeping-coffins they offer here as accommodation, dreaming of adventures far far away or hoping to be back in Orishpucho soon, where his mom was always waiting for him and his father with good pizza and lemonade, resp. cold beer.
It was pure chance - or just destiny if you want - that older Mike just ended up being here after finishing the dirty job of removing someone ugly from the list of someone else. After such a job it felt right to be here, he thought tired, nipping on his beer can. The guy whose corpse now was orbiting the sun of Masans had been a threat to the local corporation, his marvelous „reputation“ included slave trading, killing, pirating and just being a colossal ole since the day he put his butt into a pilot’s seat. So no reason to feel bad at all, huh? Not so Mike, he was way to soft-hearted for this kind of business, he had to do it because that guy just had been a really colossal ole - and because of the money of course. The latter made him feel even badder about it … ( That’s what happens if you let your kid read comics like „Utopian Tales Of Captain Goody-Two-Shoes“ - or some crap like that. Mike really should have read „Captain Starbuster’s Adventures“ instead, especially the issue, where Starbuster blew up a whole planet after one of his mean arch enemies tried to hide between ugly socialist democrats who dared to think they could protect that bloody coward from an earnest imperial officer. Too bad for them, poor stupid do-gooders. )
Mike had his seventh tallboy already when someone decided that it was a good idea to accompany him. The thirty-something took the chair just in front of him, showing a somewhat nasty grin and strange gaze. Alright, Mike thought to himself, the evening was just about to get more fun.
„Hey.“ the man greeted. His teeth had seen better days, also his nose.
„Hey.“
„'That Viper on deck three yours?“
„The outpost hasn’t got a lot of decks, buddy, everyone here always knows which ship belongs to whom.“
„Oh, excuse me, master pilot! - I’m trying to start a nice conservation here. - No offense!“
Mike took a deep breath and forced himself to show a little smile. „Sorry. - Yes, I’m flying that Viper from deck three. You like it?“
„Oh, yeah. It’s an impressive piece of craftsmanship, no question. I like the finish you’ve got there. How’s it equipped?“
„With loads of good stuff - Are you trying to get me into a sales talk?“ Mike smirked.
„No, just asking. Grade A reactor? Or B?“
„B. With all the stuff I put into it’s … yes, it’s a bit overstrained already. Though it has fourteen point three megawatts of power. I’m thinking of replacing it with an grade A.“
„Jeeesh - what the hell did we got here? A deadly monstrosity? A killing machine?“
Mike bit his lips for a moment, a faint pain hit his heart. „Uhm … well, it’s some kind of jack of all trades, you know? I’m a freelancer most of the time, I need to be prepared. It’s more of a working horse, capable of doing more than one thing.“
„Yeah, freelancer - who isn’t one in these days, ey? Corporations suck.“
„Mh-mh.“
„But you’re a cowboy as well, aren’t ya? Because this place here is for cowboys. You know that?“
„Yep, heh … silly thing being a cowboy in space I believe.“
„Oh, cowboys are cool. Honorable. And tough! Like stone old pig leather or something.“
The nameless man showed a crooked smile.
„Perhaps they’re just a bunch of drunken oles with guns and an unhealthy attitude.“ Mike answered without any irony.
„Don’t be so bitter, comrade. Life’s to short for that. People like you help others. They keep the machine running, they go where nobody else goes. They’re relentlessly and unresting pursuing greater goals and …“
„Uh, come on! - You’re kidding me. Stop that trash!“
The unknown chuckled. „A little bit. But look, here we are. Having a beer and a nice little talk after a day full of hard work. I can tell ya about. Yeah …“
„What do you do for your living?“
„Besides ing people off you’d like to say? - Heh, never mind. I used to kick my dimwitted wife's butt and to bring shady fellows from A to B for a bad price - for them, not for me. But since my dear wife stole my ship and escaped to wherever she thought is a good place, I’m actually without work at the moment.“
Mike blinked. „Sorry to hear that, buddy.“
„No worries! I’ll find her. And then I’ll kill her. After I …“
„Yeah, alright. Got it. - You’re looking for help? Totally fine for me.“
„Nah, not so fast. I’ve got some bucks, I’m rich like some fatso. And this cowboy knows women. Let’s talk a bit more about the nice ship of yours … what I absolutely find shocking is its name - what kind of stupid ole names his own ship Ridonkolous Jack? I mean … really - what an unbelievable crappy name is this?“
Mike showed a subtle smile although he noticed, that the tone of this conversation was changing suddenly. „It gives me a few, precious seconds more if I get in serious trouble. - Really, it does.“
„Yeah? I’m impressed! That’s a truly ridonkolous idea … But you know, the point is, this name somehow reminds me of an good old friend of mine. “
Mike slowly breathed in before he answered: „Just by chance, mh? - What happened to your good friend then?“
„I shot him in his face! Ha!“ His counterpart started laughing out loudly but it sounded very dry and dopey as it always did.
„Yeah, yeah … fine … - smart ass! - Get some beer first!“
Mike cut the conversation short and splashed the rest of his beer into the face of the broadly grinning man. But this one knew the dance to well and hit him surprisingly fast right on the chin. Since this wasn’t the first fight either Mike was ever drawn into, he countered with a hefty punch in his opponents stomach while pushing all his weight forward.
After a few seconds nobody noticed the deeply desperate sigh of the barkeeper anymore. „Oh, please … what the hell is so wrong with you, guys?! What did life do to you so badly?! Damn you! All of you! You sons of …“
A half an hour later all what Mike felt was pain. The barkeeper had alerted the station’s police officers, who usually hadn’t been very eager to react fast, and closed the place yet another time, after the last guest was „guided“ to the door by those officers. They also knew their stuff all to well and took only one with them who was looking pretty bad.
Mike was sitting on the ground with his back leaned at the wall, cursing himself. But somehow, somewhere between all the pain he felt some kind of inner relief. For a little moment he forgot the guy he just killed a few hours ago, forgot that some ugly day he will be out there himself, floating endlessly through the space, another dead body with a very questionable past. Just like his father told him. Should he had stayed in Orishpucho instead, stepping in his father’s shoes a millennium ago? At that time he didn’t thought so. He was all about becoming an honorable officer in the great federations’s fleet. (Yes. Of course. What do you think? Did I mention those great comics he read as a kid already?) - But he failed miserably. End of story.
„Good fight, man.“ he heard the voice coming from the one who started all the mess. „Really … good fight. You know - you were right. I’m actually looking for some tough guy who could help me out. And it will pay off for you …“
Mike closed his eyes. „Yeah, I guess so.“
… to be continued
