The Thargoid and Fer-de-Lance

[GIR_mk_2]

The bar door slowly swung open as a figure of a woman backed into the room keeping the door proped open with her boot, 4 crates and Jinx stacked precariously in her arms and a sub machine pistol in her teeth she eyed the edge of the door with each unsteady step backwards gauging the distance once sure she sidestepped clear as the door swiftly found root in it original resting place.

Now facing the direction of the bar she made her way across from the door, view obstructed by the stacked crates she mummbled something inaudible due to the weapon she was holding firm in her mouth, as if memorised she seeminlgy marched the exact number of pases that were need from the door forcing her way between Illu and Jenner planting the crates down on the bar the proceeded to remove and reholster the weapon from her teeth. She took a quick glance round the bar then spotted Sven seemingly growing infuriated

"You said that was goin to be an easy job, like hell it was I've now got 2 new bullet scars thanks to you, you lieing two faced sack of sh......." She roared before becoming distracted, she faced from left to right and back again "Illu, Jenner wow not seen to guys in what feels like a lifetime, how are things goi.....FRANK!!!!! If you even so much as touch 1 of those bottles before Sven pays me I swear to what ever god or deity you pray to you will wish you where in hell!"

Frank paused for a moment taking in the look in Gir's eyes before retracting his hand that was hoovering a mere millimetre away from the Jinx crate, he knew from the sheer amount of crazy on her face he wouldn't even have manged to open the bottle never mind drink it before Gir would have been on him like some savage beast hungry for its next prey. He instead quickly spun on his stool accompanied by the oh so familiar sound of the Velcro tearing free to face Sven putting on the saddest puupy dog face he could manage with whipering sounds for added effect, Sven sighed before waling over to the stack of Jinx crates adn a furious Gir who hand began impatiently tapping her boot whilst finger the hilt of her Katana.

He looked up the crates seemingly doing some calculations in his head before producing a stack of credits from below the bar and began to count them out into a pile infront of Gir, as he appeared to finish he began to draw back his hand before finding his arm pinned to the bar by his shirt sleave now with a katana protruding from it which hand been drawn within a blink on an eye

"Don't even think of trying to short change me here Sven, you know full well thats not the amount you promised me to do this job" Gir's toned was now that of a rational level indicating her rage had subsided the only give away that it hadn't was the rather large blood vessel which could be observed pulsating on her forehead Sven sighed again and countinued counting. From behind the almost ninja styled customer piped up "I've already said it before but would everyone just calm down! I can't enjoy my drink over here!"

Gir's head snapped round to face the direction of the voice so fast anyone watching would have thought she had just broken it, she stared at him silently the blood lust she emmited was so strong it almost seemed to take on an ominous physical appearanch behind her. The customer returned to his seat as if by some base survival instinct, again Gir slowly about faced Sven and the pile of credits before him her eyes darting over them with almost machine like efficiency happy with the amount she removed her katana from teh bar releasing Sven's sleeve who calmly examined the new hole before tutting and removing the jinx crates to the stock area

"Last time I hire you for a supply job" he moaned

"Yea well last time I take 1 from you to ya weasel" Gir chimed in response "I'm an assassin ya twit remember this isn't my speciality"

 

[Frank]

Sven picked up the last crate to take down to the cellar, but it lifted way too easily into the air. It was empty. Sven looked over at Frank, who was still velcroed to his barstool. "How? Frank? You haven't moved from your stool?"

Frank just sat there innocently sipping on his glass of Janx, although he did look a little more inebriated now than he did before. Sven stared at him in amazement before shooting Gir an exasperated look.

Gir just shrugged her shoulders as she examined the edge of her Katana. "You bought and paid for them. It's your problem now."

 

[Elden]

Elden ran into the bar, ramming the door with a shoulder and stopped for a moment staring at an unusually crowded room. He hadn't bothered to change his working robe to civil clothes and was looking a bit odd with all those tools on his belt, welding goggles dangling on his neck and spots of grease on a young, even boyish face.

After a couple of seconds of eyeing people he spotted Jenner and hurried straight to her.

"Miyako-san, you shouldn't have hurried them on those T-31s, now they are going to charge a double price for delivery..." - He looked a bit upset.
"Anyway, since I've moved the harris to a separate hangar I rented it won't hinder any more repair schedules." - the latter part was said with much less assurance.

Elden was well aware that his efforts to restore and refit an old "Harris Fighter" had some serious impact on his work at Akashi Repairs. It even costed Jenner some notable amount of HER hangar-time every week. And despite constantly blaming himself for that, Elden could do nothing about it. This was not an ordinary ship. Not just a well preserved retro, like the Saker he brought here on his first arrival. He believed that this particular ship had once belonged to his grandfather's squadron. He found it on his home planet, Titican, where he was laying low after a very nasty mission agent Ryan sent him to.

Speaking of which. The successful "removal of a dangerous pirate" had somehow resulted in all nearest authorities chasing his ship. Elden, or "a non registred saker fighter" had been accused of an attempt of assasination of some high rank local faction representatives. It was his luck that he managed to take out the captain he was hunting for, without destroying the whole ship. Otherwise he would have been accused of murder of said high-ranks. Nevertheless, the reward he got for the captain was generous enough to buy the harris fighter, and even more.
He then hid his saker at Titican and hastily brought the harris into (barely)flying condition. He then slipped away from the system on his new ship via "slow hyperspace" - the one that takes days per jump and has no supercruise capability. The trick has worked once more - noone has the equipment to track such jump nowadays. Though each of such jumps could be his last, because those old drives had a tendency to mis-jump without proper service.

Elden was drawed out of his thoughts by oh so familiar subtle flashing of metal followed by a thud as Gir's katana went some three centimeters into the bar, pinning Sven's sleeve.

"Don't even think of trying to short change me here Sven..."

Elden haven't seen her for what felt like years, but the memories of his first "real mission" with her rushed in as if it was yesterday.
He stared at her with a dumb smile on his face as she turned to a customer, dangerous and hot-tempered as always. Then back to Sven, who expressed disappointment with the new ventilation in his sleeve and promised to never hire Gir for such mission.

"Yea well last time I take one from you too, ya weasel! I'm an assassin ya twit remember this isn't my speciality"

Elden's smile twisted. - "What an irony. I'm an assassin too now, though it happened against my will. That deceitful Ryan..." - He thought grinding his teeth - "Well, I'm not going to look for excuses. Whats done is done. I'll just hope the guy had a price on his head for a reason."

 

[Futuristic Kung Fu]

The concealment device seemed to be working, as no one had started screaming yet, although I didn't know what they were seeing. The one half-dead person I had tried talking to had said something about a ninja, but that was around the same time a crazy dude with a sword had come in, so I couldn't really draw any conclusions from that. Drinking was a bit hard, but that was no different to normal. Whatever the bartender had given me was green and slightly oozy. It tasted like Thargoid slime. The place had been falling to pieces when I arrived and it's occupants consisted of a human fissile and the bartender, but several more people had arrived since and the place already looked better. I'd swear it was bigger as well.
I should probably try getting a job from one of these nutters while I was here.
I approached the most recent arrival who looked a little less crazy than the others.
"Happy birthday my old friend!" He looked puzzled. "You don't seem to recognize me. Let me tell you first who I am not: I am not a good man. And I'm not a bad man. I am not a bounty hunter and I'm definitely not an Emperor. And no, I'm not a drunkard. Do you want to know who I am? I am… a pilot, with a ship, and a handgun. Passing through, helping out, trying out the local beverages. I don't need an Anaconda and I never have, because I've got my Courier, always my Courier. So will you give me a mission? Because missions aren't for making credits, missions are promises. And I never break my promises. "
He better give a job after that bunch of baloney! The first bit might have been overkill, but it seemed appropriate for this place, and it certainly got his attention.

 

[psykokow]

A haunting cry of "Multi Crew" seemed to carry through the air conditioning system causing everyone to stop mid drink.

Even Frank who had finally managed to start a flow of hot urine in the bio-waste cubicle found his stream to his great dismay cut short.

"MUUUUUUUUULTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTIIIIIIIIIIII CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

it was like some sort of ghost had picked an agenda to haunt the entire thargoid bar with criticism and dispair...

The Bar doors parted sharply and a disheveled figure stumbled through them landing flat on the floor, twitching and emitting a distinct smell of desperation...

 

[Flash_Baggins]

The sound of gunfire came from outside the Thargoid and Fer-De-Lance, rebounding off of the corridors and echoing in the ventilation systems

Sven didnt care much for firefights. They were too common for his liking and disrupted what was otherwise a fairly strange aura in the bar

The doors opened and Flash Baggins ran in and vaulted the bar, landing in a bundle of green blazer and alcohol on the floor. quickly he backed up against the bar facing the door and pulled out his suppressed 10mm. Sven looked down at him thoroughly disinterested and unimpressed
'You gonna order anything?'
Flash simply put his finger to his lips and held the gun ready to peek over the bar and shoot his pursuers, if they were competent enough to had seen where he went.

Sven didnt like this behaviour. Running into his bar and disturbing his polishing of the glass he always had in hand. That was no way to act, even around here

Flash waited for a minute. Noone entered. he got up, vaulted the bar to the other side and took a seat next to Frank.

'Sorry about that, cops werent happy with me buying out the entire systems worth of donuts onto my Python. also maybe me shooting at them for fun as well. Ill have a Lavian brandy please'

 

[illu Minti]

Her eyes locked with Illu. She froze, mouth agape. "Oh. My God." she whispered. "Illu!"

After four months and roughly 28 days later, the frozen stare finally melted between Princess Jenner and Agent Illu.

Illu moved slowly over to Jenner and gently closed her still open mouth and kissed her lightly, Jenner wasted no time and darted her tongue in!! ""Princess, some class please!" Illu managed to cry out after untangling himself from the slippery snaked princess.

"Sorry Illu but its just been so long, and the way time slows down at the bar these days it might be some time before i get another chance!" she giggled

"Err jus wondering" said Frank licking and pursing his lips in the direction of Jenner "NO!" shouted both Jenner and Illu at the same time, thus leaving Frank solemnly to go back to his Jinx beer.

Illu wiped some grease from his Imperial jacket that Jenner had deposited on him as she had smothered him earlier when she noticed the medal pinned on him. "The Imperial Star!" she gasped "Only the Emperor presents those ones" she said looking on in awe.

"Yes" Illu looked a little embarrassed "err i have a confession to make, i got it for a very important mission i undertook" again Illu looked sheepish not daring to look into anyones eyes at the bar.

"Illu what is it?" said Jenner "it must have been for the most dangerous, ruthless and bloodletting exploit ever! was it against those damn Federation lackeys, or a strike against some ruthless corporations syndicate?"

Illu finally looked up and said "Hm no unfortunately, wish it had been, no i had to apprehend the Galaxy's most wanted and ruthless pirate......AKA Agent P!...dead or alive!"

Jenner and Sven looked on in disbelief whilst at the same time Frank unholstered his pistol and aimed in the direction of Illu!.......Gulp!

 

[GIR_mk_2]

Gir stretched painfully it felt like she had been stood at the bar for nearly five months giving Sven the finger for his 'simple' supply run, she heavily pulled herself up on and sat on the bar revelling in Sven's dirty look he was shooting her. She was slightly more surprised when she noticed the thick build up of dust that had accumulated on all the surfaces in the bar not excluding herself, she started brushing herself off surveying the bar just in time to catch Illu plant a tender little kiss on Jenner who immediately seem to try diving down his throat tongue first.

Gir's mouth feel open as she silently watched pointing back and forth between Illu and Jenner looking over to Frank with a questioning glance. Frank who had propositioned The Imperial Princess Jenner for the next smacker and been promptly turned down seemed to be sulking nursing his Jinx, which was unusual for Frank, turned to Gir with a kicked puppy kind of expression noticing her guard was down after witnessing the display spied a chance and dived and Gir going straight in for a long deep kiss.

After a useless few minutes struggle Frank released his grip and plonked himself back onto his bar stool seemingly very satisfied leaving Gir gagging her tongue stuck out as she frantically sat scrubbing at it tears in the corners of her eyes, it had been like having an old boot sole that had been sat soaking in some sort of oil and coated in barnicles thrust into her mouth not to mention the indescribably foul taste. she noticed Sven had found this whole scene very amusing.

It was at this point Gir heard mention of The Imperial Star, the only medal given personally by the Emperor, and a mission to apprehend the Galaxy's most wanted and ruthless pirate......AKA Agent P!...dead or alive!

Jenner and Sven looked on in disbelief whilst at the same time Frank unholstered his pistol and aimed in the direction of Illu! Gir crossed her legs on the bar placing her elbow on her knee resting her chin on her hand

"Well s#&@! Things seem like they will get interesting again"

 

[Frank]

Sven calmly snatched the pistol from Frank's hand, "There'll be no killing in my bar!", he glanced at a few patches of bloodsoaked carpet, "... if I can help it."

The Imperial couple were astounded by Sven's quick thinking. "That was brave! You pulled it out of his hand!"

Sven was puzzled by this reaction. Frank, the old codger sat on his barstool. His hand trembled slightly as he brought the glass of Janx to his narrow lips. "You think Frank is dangerous? He's got the reactions of a tortoise, that's been glued to the spot. And besides that, Frank is an Orion Miner. Can you think of any occasion where an Orion Miner has hurt bar staff? To them we are sacred, the bringer of drink."

Some music started in the background, swelling violins, stirring patriotic music. Sven stood upright and proudly stated "This is a bar. This is a place where people from all walks of life, regardless of skin colour, gender, creed, anybody from any position in society. They walk through those double doors and they are just fellow human beings looking for a drink and a chat, and we welcome them and we fill their glass and show them kindness..."

There was a tear in the corner of Frank's eye. He looked genuinely upset as he stared down at his empty glass.

 

[SongMinKi]

The commander stepped out of the restroom into quite a scene, it appears some sort of brawl had occurred with multiple belligerents and the atmosphere was at the very least, ice cold.

There were a few recognizable faces, not the least of which was Frank, who seems to have been sat down at the bar for ages now. He sat up next to him and ordered a drink, not a very expensive one though. His salary has taken a huge hit since he had his old DeLacy Anaconda replaced with an imperial cutter. At the behest of the family back on Achenar, they insisted on giving the ship a chrome finish and christened it the INV Achenar's Splendor. Even for an imperial it was cringingly stuckup. Now the chrome finish costs thousands in maintenance at every docking to fix scrapes and for repolishing. He never understood why people would want to replace the titanium white paint of standard gutamaya factory ships. Yet he can't simply replace the finish in order to avoid appearing dissatisfied and offending powerful relatives in Achenar. Though at this point the chrome finish was getting sickeningly disorienting whenever troops exited at docking.

"So Frank, I have a question for you, do you know a place where I can get a complete re-finish on a cutter class ship? Gutamaya original, is the preference"

 

[Futuristic Kung Fu]

"I don't like these guys. Every time I talk to one of them, they just walk away. Even the bartender took months to get my order. Did I use the snake poison instead of the deodorant or what? Maybe if I take my gun out and aim at someone I'll blend in more."

 

[Frank]

The old miner turned to look at the Imperial commander addressing him and replied theatrically "I don't know! Where can you get a complete re-finish on a cutter class ship?"

There was a smirk on the old codger's face as he awaited the punchline to what he thought was a joke.

 

[SongMinKi]

Though the commander didn't expect a solid answer, he was none the less surprised when the question was returned. He fumbled for a moment as his mind struggled to process the information, as if a sentient AI was asked a paradox.

"I...I don't know, short of flying back to Achenar I don't know where Gutamaya offers these services. I haven't actually seen a Gutamaya drydock ever myself, makes you wonder where all these ships were built doesnt it.."

The commander paused for a moment and slowly realised that the old codger thought he was telling a joke. Awkwardness filled the air for a moment until a man raised his gun in the air and fired a shot into the ceiling.

"I doubt the bartender appreciates that..." The commander sighed as he stepped off the stool and walked towards him.

He vaguely recalls hearing the man making a door salesman-like drivel to request a mission. Perhaps if the commander can't find a place for a cutter refit, this man will. The commander briefly paused for a moment as he pondered if he should really trust a man who fired a random shot in a bar with his ship, but dismissed that thought as nobody is suicidal or foolish enough to steal a registered imperial navy ship. Its also not as if the ship will go unnoticed anywhere. The annoyingly eye catching chrome finish with a giant symbol of the Emperor lasered on top is hard to miss. The only way the INV Achenar's Splendor can be more pompous is if his father were to do the interior decorating.

The commander approached the man and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

[psykokow]

Agent P whistled happily to himself, it had been a long time since he'd been to Barnard's Star, he often thought about his old friends...he wondered if Listeri69 ever got his floppy banana fixed up....
Anyway... Illu had called out of the blue, it sounded important so of course he would turn up to help out. who knows. it could be lucrative.

The station looked great, like finally some money had been spent on it, he strutted down the corridors remeniscing about the old days, and when that shop was a McThargoids, and the Shifty Inn... He paused at the spot where the old medical waste bins used to be.. he rubbed himself assuringly.

Then he headed to the bar... and there it was.. glowing like a cheap brothel, neon lights to give a sun tan to the darkest of skins.

The Fargowd and Furry Lance...

He swung the doors open and jumped in with a pathetic fanfare from his own lips "Toodooo doo dooodle laaaaa".

The Old man sitting at the bar, farted with the shock and turned to see his would be interupter... he almost dropped his bottle of Joncs.

Stan the barman eyed this new comer carefuly.. "What will it be..... sir?"

Agent P stared at Stan horrified.... did he say "sir?". something was very wrong..

He opened his data pad and called up his ship log, "Bernard's Star"

He surveyed the bar....it was clean. He knew it was the wrong system now..

He ran back to his ship, cleared undocking and set a course for Barnard's Star...

"I'm coming Illu... wait for me"

 

[psykokow]

Hi 2nd hand Orca was a reliable enough ship, smelled of stale cheese and desperation... but it most importantly god the job done.

The passenger cabins where a sight to behold, resplendant in disguarded fast food wrappers and inch deep space dust, they clearly hadn't be used to transport anyone of importance... well unless they died in there.

Psykokow wiped the spilled gravy off the screen and spotted the stray noodle that lead to his miscourse. He ate it and replotted a course to Barnard's Star.

It was 23 jumps away, that was going to me Scooping fuel or stop offs... neither a particularly bright prospect.

As a Hutton Trucker, he had been many places, and had many fines, and some fairly bad reputation. As for Scooping, well the amount of stray oil from his chinese take away refuge, could cook anything in the ship to a delightfully crispy state.

He had hired a valet service, but they never returned from his ship.. they were in there somewhere... occaisionaly on a tight bank or heavy landing you'd hear a distance squeal.

He often thought about venting his ship in the deep, to expel all the excesses of modern space flight...but he couldnt be responsible for the destruction of the life created in his junk ecosystem, nor did he want to pay the hefty fines for killing the valets.

He requested take off permission, fired up the engines and lifted slowly up, then softly out of the slot, well more bounced off the top of the toast rack and hitting an eagle to its feiry death in a tangled mess of metal below.

He was finally on his way home.

 

[insanephoton]

Richard entered the bar. Straight away he could tell that something had changed, The usual décor had been replaced by potted palms and garish coloured lights. It looked suspiciously as if Sven was trying to convert the T&F into a trendy cocktail bar. Frank's barstool was in it's usual place. Frank sat there bemused at the cocktail umbrella and fruit in the neck of his bottle of Janx, only the straw stopped him from complaining.

Behind the bar there was a hand written notice ' A free cocktail to anyone who can solve this riddle and name the song "By no measure is this group Imperial as they sing of three Gs" . If you can also name the animated film that uses this song over it's end credits you win free cocktails all night."

Just then Richard caught sight of Mark and Amber at their usual table. From the collection of empty glasses it was clear that they must have known the answer. Richard headed over to join them.

 

[Jenner]

Jenner watched the ice cubes dance in her Exicoce Starshine as she swirled the contents idly. She sat alone with her thoughs at a booth in one of the innumerable dark spaces in the bar. She's been off the station a lot recently taking care of Sirius Corp business and hadn't really re-connected with any of her old acquaintances.

She glanced down again at her crisp Sirius uniform. 'Rollo you .... ' she thought. 'Seems I'm destined to be under your boot until the stars fade.'

Taking a sip of her drink she noticed Richard walking by.

"Hello, old friend" she said. "Pleasant evening."

 

[Yaffle]

Yaffle was sure it was the door. It wasn’t as if he’d never been there before. Again he punched, well more like prodded, the access button which stubbornly remained unlit and unresponsive. Glancing up and down the corridor, lit by a flickering flourecsent tube, he siged and swapped his spectacles for his breaking and entering pair. The access pad was an old one, which wouldn’t take much effort. In fact a good thump while holding his credit chip near it seemed to work. Checking he’d not been charged he stood back as the door’s hydraulics unsteadily ground rust away. A unique aroma of stale janx met him. This was surprising, he was unaware Janx could go stale.

Inside was dark. He called. ‘Hello!’

Nothing.

The door finished its struggles and promptly micturated some hydraulic fluid onto his shoes.

Yaffle stepped in, put on his night vision spectacles and looked around.

Yes, this was the place. All was silent, endless dark nooks and crannies span away into the void. He wondered over to the bar, and placed his hand on it for stability while he tried to free his boot from some sticky pool on the floor. This was a decision he instantly regretted, his hand was now adhered to the bar. Carefully he peeled it off, and looked around. All seemed in order, but with more dust and cobwebs than usual. Some of the cobwebs were disturbingly large and possibly not from arachnids.

He walked alongside the bar, heading for the large window at the far-side. Being in the cheaper part of the station this wasn’t at full gravity and clouds of dust wafted from each careful footstep. Something underfoot crunched. Rocks. He’d reached Frank’s stool. In a testament to his stamina several shot glasses were on the counter top, all long since drained.

A proximity scanner noticed him, and a monitor flickered to life. THARGOID INVASION – LATEST’ scrolled across the screen. He sighed. ‘Oh no, not again’.

 

[Jenner]

Jenner, crouched under a table in the bar, clutched the ascetaline torch in her hand tighter. She strained to hear the intruder that had activated the proximity sensor on the monitor. Whoever.... whatever.... it was had not announced itself.

When the station breach alarm began she had been busy repairing micro meteorite holes on some ancient Python. She'd barely managed to escape the shop before the dock area had been sealed off with heavy blast doors.

Her heart raced... should she take a chance and peek out? Yell for help?

'Oh no, not again.' Whispered the intruder.

Yaffle! It was Yaffle!

"Profess....!" She blurted out, raising up so fast she knocked her head on the underside of the table.

"Ow!

 

[psykokow]

Barnard's Star, a beacon of hope in the dark...

It hung there ahead.... like a tease.... this time no mistakes.

The Biatch was weary from a long exploration, and was ready to cash in some of that data... but Galnet was buzzing.

Litterally buzzing, no feed at all. Unusual, Kow thought to himself 'who would try to block Galnet'

This usually meant some big power was making moves on somewhere and wanted it kept on the low down...

This felt different, kind of like something massive was lurking.

His thoughts turned to his old friends, had it really been years...... he wondered if they'd even still be there...

"Docking Permission Granted, Please dock on pad 23"

He'd soon find out.