The No Name Bar

Just above the doors of the bar, was an old and weathered wooden sign, with spawled letters in red-- The No Name. Stationed on the Rock, this bar was home to many outlaws and a shipload of criminals.

The air was tinged with the faint smell of roses, and was warm yet not humid. There were 9 tables, all wooden with six chairs around each, and a bar at the far end of the 30 by 40 foot bar, rimmed by stools and sporting a backdrop of brandies, beers and other soft drinks.

Strange was the contrast of old wood and futuristic ventilation, so the top of the bar was covered in neatly placed wood and had a few rafters builty over steel girders, to give it an old-fashioned style appearance to it. A light mist tinged the ground, almost unnoticable but a comfortable addition to the tavern. The bar is itself is marble, polished so you can see yourslef slightly through the ever so thin fog.

Dechtran Zel nonchalantly sat behind that bar, leaning his chair back slightly as he cleaned a spotless glass. The wealthy outlaw had a smart grin on his face and was whistling lightly, occasionally glancing over at another figure who was typing inhumanely fast on a small laptop. He then placed the glass down and picked up a Coke, wondering what decorations he would need. Already there were weapons on the walls--swords, lances, axes-- but he wanted to spice it up. Behind him there was overly polished glass and bottles full of ingedients, awaiting orders and patrons.

The curious man who was only known as The Hacker was cheerfully typing away and then whooped inwardly, the screen now completely black, and saying one simple word with a blank box next to it.


A blank expression came over The Mentor's face. Then he shrugged and typed away, until it was blinking green.


"Hmm..." The Hacker wondered...

WITHDRAWL: 300,000 $ (three hundred thousand dollars)

"What!? I need a name!? Hm..." A curt, smartalike smiled crept over his face.

NAME: Mrs. Kricddi

Just a nickname rearranged. He sat back and stretched with a yawn.
I hate people with fancy signatures. ._.

(This message has been edited by Phantasmaegoria (edited 06-11-2004).)

(This message has been edited by Phantasmaegoria (edited 06-11-2004).)

I'm sorry but I'll sit this one out, at least for a while (listens to crickets chirp as no one cares). I'm going to be gone for a few months. Everyone write something interesting so I feel the need to read through the bar before I start with my all new character set. Good luck.

Life, Death. What's the difference?

Thanks, Paranoid. We'll be waitin' for ya 😉 /OOC

I hate people with fancy signatures. ._.

As Dech sat in his comfy new chair, he pondered the events that had brought him here, to the Rock.

The Longbow _slid through hyperspace, Dech with most of the UE Fighter spread about the floor of the docking bay. Every part had been thoroughly cleaned and tested, with fanatical attention to detail. Waiting on the Rock were the electronics, prepared by Dech's main contact on the Renegade station, a man known by many names, most notably the simple "Hacker", usually preceded by a very punctuated "The". They had a little hole in the wall picked out for themselves to open a nice peaceful little pub.

Fat chance of that, considering their pasts. With a several million credit on Dech's head in the UE, bounty hunters were sure to come in now and then, and provide the two with some entertainment in case customers didn't appear.

Dech looked at the crimson fuselage of the fighter. The wings had been cut away to retrofit several fantastically expensive weapons to the spaceframe. With the reinforced spaceframe, triple the thrust, ten times the firepower, and three-quarters the weight of a stock UE fighter, Dech's old ship had really shaped up.

Stenciled in a stylized script on each side of the nose were the words_ Fireno's Arrow . Named in honor of Dech's best friend, the ship was the last ship she'd ridden in... except the UE Police tug. And she was dead when she rode in that.

Dech unconsciously slammed his glass down, earning a quizzical look from The Hacker. Stomping out of the bar with a determined look on his face, Dech emerged into the bustling black market economy of the Rock.

Making his way past numerous stalls and shops selling shoddy merchandise, he reached a low cave opening, and stepped into the darkness. A hand grabbed his, and led him deeper into the dark stone tunnel. Emerging above the secondary docking bays of the Rock, the two kissed.

"You've been away too long, Dech." Nicol Render whispered.

"I'm sorry. You know how it goes, though. You weren't even here until three weeks ago, anyway, my love. I think perhaps I haven't been away too long, but rather we've been apart too long." Dech answered, grinning.

"Charming little bastard, aren't you?" Nicol said, looking a full third of a meter up into Dech's eyes.

"Only for you."

Looking down on the bustling shipyard, the two pondered their future, and their pasts.


OOC: Backstory for this post and character is in the last few pages of the Albatross, which I will be assembling into a separate text file and making available to anybody interested enough to click a link and read a bit.

Proud member of (url="http://"")The Fifth Column(/url).
Good things come in small packages.

As one, the people of the Rock take a cursory glance upwards towards a lone Zachit fighter. They were used to this kind of thing, so didn't pay too much attention. This ship however, seemed strange... quite larger than normal Crescent fighters, it seemed to still be travelling faster, and taking an unusual amount of punishment from the nearby ships.

As a missile finally penetrated it's hull, the populace sighed, as the ship was blown to shrapnel... and another came out.

Out of the cloud of wreckage flew a greenish blur so fast that the well travelled peoples of the Rock knew could be only one thing. Azdara. It was slightly larger than normal, decorated with stylized zachit colours,and seemed to have multiple wings, sweeping back in the common manner. Underneath were mounted four long metal rods, in pairs next to eachoter. Suddenly, movement was spied from one of these, and a pellet almost too fast to see tore into a pirate fighter, and ripped it asunder.

The ship pulled into the Rock's docking section, and landed on top of a Heavy freighter, placing it neatly away from any guns on the floor. The, a young Azdgari male jumped down onto the freighter, sliding and hopping until he reached the ground. He was wearing a light suit, silver, with streaks a blue and green. A wickedly curved sword hung from his large belt, and a coy smile appeared on his face.

"Say, does anyone know where there's a bar round here?"

What if God smoked dope like us,
drove a purple flowered hippie bus...

(This message has been edited by GOD (edited 21-12-2012).)

Suddenly, a huge Miranu Heavy Freighter touches down on the pad. Out steps C Sharp, the owner of West Side Chopping, a famous freighter to warship conversion center. He goes up to the bar, orders a Saalian Brandy, and sips it quietly, making sure that he can reach the blaster strapped to his leg. Trouble will definetely break out eventually, he thinks.


The Adzgari male was confronted by a man who was heavily armored and carrying a shotgun in his hands.

"Yeah, bar's down the hallway. "

He nodded and turned around, leaving.


The Hacker sipped his Vanilla Coke slowly as he again went at the computer. But this time he simply shut it and tucked it away, the computer now turning microchip sized as he stood, stretched more, and then sat back down. The Hacker had light brown hair that covered most of his eyes in a few long bangs and emerald green eyes, with peach skin and a carelessly genius expression always slapped on his visage.

He settled back into the chair again, kicked up his feet and closed his eyes, beginning to almost fall asleep.

I hate people with fancy signatures. ._.

A woman slowly slips into the bar so not to attract to much attention to herself. Her body was adorned with a black skin tight shirt along with a black mini skirt with a belt. She wore black boots as they made soft thuds as she walked to a table in the bar and a hilt of a dagger hidden within the one of the boots could be seen. Maybe as a warning not to mess with her or something. That was the only visible weapon upon her at the moment. Locks of raven black hair spilled down onto her face and it swayed softly sighed to sighed while her hair stopped at shoulder length. The finest of sapphires peered passed locks of hair that swung in front of her face like a black curtain. She strolled gracefully to a table and sat down in one of the chairs as she crossed her legs and took a look around as she leaned back in her seat. That silence loomed over her like some curtain that gave no protection to the cold, bitter winds as she stared out at nothing as she seemed to be thinking at the moment. Hands were covered in fingerless gloves as slender fingers with skin like ivory tapped upon one of her thighs gently.


A point of light appeared on the outer rim of the system, and elongated. There wasa flash of light, a crack and a bang, and The Kamikaze begins its aproach on the rock.
"Hostiles approaching," Kami's computer warned.
The woman at the helm looked past the many ships between her and the station. She was determined, and the loud music that blared from the many speakers set the stage. The Kamikaze shot forward, faster than any of The Rocks common thugs had seen a ship move. And then they noticed, Sharpened Crescent, one of the two crescent warships blossomed into a flower of flame. The Kamikaze whipped around and made another pass. This time a renegade Arada fell.
The remaining pirate vessels fled back to the station.
"This is the Kamikaze, requesting permission to dock."
"Docking request recieved and denied," The station replied.
"We're frends of Dech," The man laying down behind the pilot mumbled.
"Docking request denied."
The pilot looked back at the half asleep man. He was easily 6'1, but thin as toothpick. A dirty grey poncho hung off his broad shoulders, ending at his waist. Under the baggy poncho the man wore skin tight black jeans, and a black long sleeved shirt just as tight. His gloves missed a finger every other digit, and little metal balls crested each knuckle.
"Should I?"
The black ship picked up speed, and streaked towards the station. Before the dockmaster knew what happened, The Kamikaze was already inside the station.
The woman gathered her things and made her way to the ships hatch.
"Come on Page," she called to the man in black and grey.
"Okay, okay." Page stood up and stretched. He blew back a strand of his long, uneven black hair.
"You comin' Demon?" The woman asked the black wolf curled up in the corner. The wolf nodded and trotted down the exit ramp.
The girl in leather followed, and Page brought up the rear.
The three were met by a large goup of intimidating looking men. At the bottom of the ramp.
"I got this Larra," Page said resting his long burlap roll on his shoulder.
"No one breaks into the rock and gets out alive," The lead thug said.
Page yawned, and pulled off his poncho, he rolled it up and stuffed it in his grey duffle bag.
"Hey, are you even paying attention to us?"
Page began stretching his arms, and he rolled up his sleeves, revealing his fiercely tattoed forearms.
The lanky man then sprang into action, and launched a flurry of fists at the thugs.
In secconds the rocks commoners were down for the count, and Page lit a cigarette.
"I wonder where the bar is?"

Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...

Just when Page and Larra enter the bar, they notice Ta-vora sitting at one of the tables. Page sits down at a free table, Larra approaches the Ka-nuth.
“How did you get here first?” she asks, a puzzled look at her face.
Ta-vora turns his head to look at her. His movements seem slow and strangely clumsy in a way.
“Good question,” he answers, his voice sounding like it comes from far away, “actually, I didn't ”
With that, his body fades and disappears.
Even more confused, Larra looks around to face Page, who just shruggs.


A bright flash and a thunderclash signal the arrival of the Azula in the system. Shields and weapons are active, but not because of hostile intentions, but in order to protect the ship from the maelstrom of the North Tip Asteroid Belt.
On the Azula's bridge, Ta-vora feels as uneasy as always when he is forced to fly into the middle of an asteroid belt.
“Kre, I have a huge asteroid on my scanners, spheroid, about 500 mesaj in diameter. It appears to be the very heart of this asteroid belt.”
“And it is the HQ of the North Tip Renegades. Hail them and request clearance for landing.”
“Ayie, Kre.”
There is a short moment of silence.
“Clearance refused, Kre.”
Just when Ta-vora opens his mouth for an answer, another officer reports an incoming Crescent Warship. The ship's intentions are clearly stated when it opens fire with its phase turrets.
“Three incoming fighters!”
“Use the impulse cannons to destroy them.”
Blue beams, coming directly out of the ship's hull, attack the fighters, but don't hit.
“The ore in these asteroids is confusing our targeting system.”
“Can we compensate?”
“I'm not sure, these fighters are made out of the same material and their energy signatures are too weak to use them. Mass and speed also won't help us.”
Ta-vora's mind races. The Azula is a strong ship, but since Karee defenses are shield-based, phase cannons are effective against her. Suddenly, while studying the attack pattern of the Crescent Fighters, an idea crosses his mind.
“Can we program the targeting computer to aim at the shots?”
“These fighters are performing a direct attack approach. That means they are flying directly towards us, shooting, and then pulling away. For a short period of time, while they're shooting, they remain virtually motionless. So when we can't target the ships, we'll target the shots.”
“I understand. It should be possible.”
“How long will it take?”
“Not very long, I just need to adjust the settings there, it is done.”
“Alright, do it!”
The trick works, the Azula easily destroys the fighters.
“Mothership entering attack range, incoming SADs!”
“These SADs are useless within this asteroid belt. Move us within range and give everything the impulse weapons have.”
The shields of the Crescent Warship are quickly decimated, but the Azula's are about to fall as well.
“Our weapons are virtually useless against this ship's hull. And we can't use missiles because of these asteroids.”
“Alright, bring the plaser online. Now we'll see how good our engineers really are.”
The Azula's very tip opens, revealing the pointed Phanteon weapon with its green charging coil.
“Plaser ready and fully charged.”
A thin, green beam leaves the weapon's tip and impacts on the Renegade's hull. It easily penetrates it, cutting through it like a warm knive through butter. Within a matter of seconds, the ship is cut into two. Green plasma flares are bursting into space, accompanied by white streams of oxygen, leaving the former Crescent Warship drifting crippled in space.
“We did not hit any vital systems, but they don't pose a threat anymore.”
“Hail the station again. Perhaps they have changed their minds now.”
“They have indeed, we're cleared to dock.”
A few minutes later, the Azula enters the station.

Upon entering the bar, Ta-vora spots his friends, sitting together at a table. He greets them and sits down.
“Did I hallucinate or were you really here some time ago?” Larra asks immediately.
“You did not hallucinate. I tried to mentally project myself here, although I'm not yet very good at it. It is difficult to control a mental body. And the distance didn't make it easier as well.”
“I didn't know you can do this.”
“Well, actually, without the matrixes in the regeneration chamber, I couldn't do it. It requires a huge amount of energy which I can neither raise nor control without their help. Anyway ”
He turns to Page.
“Do you think you can get your ship's computers back online?”

The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.

Dech and Nicol headed back up the tunnel, arm-in-arm.

"Some friends should be showing up soon... Wonder what's taking them so long."

Nicol didn't answer.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I guess. I just missed you, that's all."

"How's everybody else?"

"Ace is fine. Smalls has been acting funny. Some girl's gotten to him, I guess."

"That sucks. He was such a good weapons officer, too."

Emerging from the tunnel, they headed back to the No Name. Dech opened the door for Nicol, then followed her in. The Hacker was apparently done hacking whatever it was he'd been hacking.

"Anyone order anything yet?"

The Hacker shook his head.

"Bugger. When are people going to start showing up? I'm getting bored of this already."

Nicol nudged him, and inclined her head towards the dark-looking woman sitting by herself in the almost empty bar.

"Oh. I see they already have. Well then, I'd better get back to the bar, hadn't I?" Dech hopped over the bar.

"Right then, rea—" The word was cut off as the wooden door practically exploded into the room, splintering into several pieces.

An armored woman jumped throught the door. "Dechtran Zel, I'm here to claim the bounty that has been placed on your head. Come with me peacefully and I won't hurt you."

Dech sat, stunned. His nice, wooden door. All over the floor.

"I'm guessing that would be you, behind the bar. What, never seen a bounty hunter before?"

Dech stood slowly. Nicol retreated to a corner, barely keeping a straight face. "I can see making an entrance, but did you really need to blow the door apart? It wasn't locked or anything. That's not very professional, Miss... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Nisus. You going to come with me, or what?"

"Well... You broke my door. And I liked that door."

"Forget the door, you dolt. Are you going to come with me, or do I have to hurt you?"

Dech hopped over the bar again. If I do that any more, I'm going to end up wearing a groove there... "I guess you're going to have to hurt me, 'cause... well... I'm not in the mood for a trip at the moment."

"Suit yourself." Nisus stepped forward and swung a right hook towards Dech's face.

Dech absorbed the impact, and came up grinning. "Now, I don't hit women. But it looks like you're not going to stop, so... I guess I can make an exception." As Nisus swung again, Dech dropped low and bulled into her stomach, lifting her off her feet and knocking the wind out of her. Carrying her over to the vacant doorframe kicking and punching his back, he dumped her down the front steps.

"If you'd left the door intact, I'd slam it on you. But you didn't. So I guess you'll have to settle for a 'Get the hell out of my bar and don't come back.'"

Nisus stood up. "You're coming with me. Now."

"Nope, sorry. I've got a bar to run. And besides, I told you before, I'm not in the mood to go anywhere right now." Dech turned his back and walked through the doorframe.

Running, Nisus jumped and grabbed Dech in a headlock, trying to choke him into unconsciousness.

Dech threw an elbow back into Nisus' ribcage, and heard a satisfying crack as her grip weakened. "That's going to leave you with a pretty good briuse..."

Grabbing both her wrists, he freed himself entirely, and shoved her against the wall, pinning her wrists. "I'm going to ask you one more time before I incapacitate you and dump you in a trash chute. Leave."

A furious headbutt was her answer, splitting Dech's lower lip.

Dech rolled his eyes, and stepped back. As she swung, he neatly side-stepped. Her momentum carried her past him, and he brought both fists together down on the base of her skull, knocking her unconscious.

"I do not envy you the headache you will have when you wake."

Feeling generous and chivalrous, Dech left her in a quiet corner across from the No Name instead of dumping her down a garbage chute.

Walking back into the bar, Nicol grabbed him and shoved him into a chair. "You must be getting old, Dech. She got you pretty good with that headbutt."

"Yeah. I'm pretty beat up... There's a med-kit behind the bar."

"Oh, I got it." Nicol ribbed good-naturedly. "You let her hit you just so I'd give you some TLC."

"And what good TLC it is..." Dech replied, grinning impudently.

Proud member of (url="http://"")The Fifth Column(/url).
Good things come in small packages.


The Hacker ran to it, then trailed his eyes along to the bounty hunter. " You stupid, worthless, failure ACCIDENTFLAW LOSER!"

He sat there, whimpering, petting the door. But wait! He lifted it up and violently shoved it into the hinges. It was back! He strolled back to his table, then glanced to the girl, sitting all alone. He crept over to her and sat acros from her, crossing his legs nonchalantly and mimicing her everymove perfectly.

I hate people with fancy signatures. ._.

Sapphire jewels slowly went over to the one who sat right across from her. One of her elbows was on the table and her head was resting upon her hand. She looked like she would be a challenge in a fight by her well-toned and attractive body that was revealed by the skin tight clothing she had on. She remained expressionless before she looked away to stare out at nothing again as she ignored the one sitting across from her while she had a distant look upon her face. Her fingers still tapping against her thigh as he hadn't gotten to her by mimicking her perfectly. She just rudely ignored him just like he annoyingly mimicked her. She had more important things on her mind than this man.


A strange ship appeared in the space outside of the Rock. Curiously, no one seemed to notice that the ship looked nothing like any known ship in the galaxy. Perhaps they were all used to seeing strange things near the Rock, those other space captains. Or perhaps they just didn't care about the sleek silver, black, and blue ship with a strange engine and even stranger designs.

Inside the ship, only two people were piloting the seemingly complex ship. At that moment, piloting would be too strong a word, as they appeared more likely to rip each other apart than pay attention to the ship they were in. The two beings looked human enough, even if their eyes were swirling a couple of different colors. "When we find her, I'm going to kill her, I don't care what she says. She had no right to leave like that!"

"Why the hell not? She had every right! Look at what was happening! They were tearing each other apart just because they couldn't accept reality. She was correct to leave, and you know it Natala." Angry eyes swirling black and green glared at the stubborn female next to him, his hands fisted by his side. It was taking all his restraint not to take out his gun and shoot her into unconsciousness.

"Perhaps she just left to get away from you and Natala's incessant and redundant babbling. If it were possible for me, I'd join her. Better than listening to you two scream at each other all day."

"Great. Thanks Tekria. You and Ralano are such great friends. If that's the way you two feel, I'll find a way to go by myself!" Natala turned away from Ralano. There was no way she could turn away from Tekria, the ship being all around her. Her strange boots clicked a few times before a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"C'mon Natala. We should we prepared for whatever's out there if we're going to find my sister. Also, we can't go like how we are. We're going to need money. We'll need to buy some of their weapons so we don't look too out of place. We'll need to make Tekria look like one of the ships in this Galaxy. At least to a cursory look over scanners. I don't think we'll be able to do anything if someone wants to take too close of a look. We'll need to-"

"Relax. We can do this. How hard can it be? Alenia did it, right? I can do anything she can do, and I can do it better!" Natala glared at the younger man when he coughed pointedly. "I can!"

"Right. Tekria, where are we?" Ralano ignored the irate female's glare by turning to look up at the ship. The soft female voice exited from somewhere on the ceiling of the room.

"A pirate system. We're in the northern end of their galaxy, at least the part within the nebulas. Unfortunately none of the other ships are organic, or sentient, so I cannot inquire if Alenia has passed through. Also, I need to be refuelled, and resupplied. If we cannot find our types of weapons, we will have to sell some things and buy me some of their weapons. I refuse to leave port without weapons."

"Yeah, yeah. Weapons, weapons. Does this place have anything fun to do?" Natala glanced over at the controls and screen to see them already landing. She looked out at the clothes people were wearing and grinned. "At least we won't look too out of place. Some people are wearing clothes that at least look like ours. Who knows about the material."

"We aren't here to have fun, Natala. We can't stay too long, we have to go search for her, and then go back home!" Ralano was already mentally making a list of things to look for so he missed the tell tale roll of Natala's eyes. Tekria cut into their one-sided argument.

"There may be trouble when we attempt to go home."

Both humanoids paused in what they were doing and stared at each other. Then they started shouting at the ship. When she didn't answer, Natala made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, calming herself down. Her eyes stopped swirling silver and blue and looked like a normal blue when she finally left.

"Hey! Where are you going, Nat?" Natala smirked back at him over her shoulder. She paused and grabbed a few gun, one wrapping around the palm of her hand, glowing slightly. Two of them looked normal and the last one was thin and about six inches long. She put it in her sleeve, then began to walk out.

"You do the resupplying thing Ralano. You know I can't tell what's what. I'm going to see if what they call fun here is anything like back home. Hey, what kind of station is this anyway? Tekria said something about different governments, right? Which one is this?" She kept walking, almost out of earshot by the time he answered.

"Umm...It's a pirate station! Nat!

Natala laughed to herself as she exited the ship, hoping the languages Tekria had drilled into their head son the long trip here were the correct ones. If they had traveled across galaxies and been dropped into the wrong one, she was going to kill someone. It had taken them over a year just to build something that Tekria could use to go this far.

After asking a few questions here and there, she found that they were indeed in the right place, and there was at least one thing that was fun around here that she knew about from home. There was a bar. A little alcohol never hurt anyone. And it wasn't like she was driving. Tekria drove herself.

So it was with a clear conscience that Natala strode into the bar, stopping short upon the threshold and eyeing the differing species inside. This definitely felt familiar. So many different species in one spot.

Natala smirked and ambled over to the bar, peering at the menu. She frowned, realized she had no idea what to drink, and had no money. Well, she'd just call Ralano when she was done drinking and borrow some money from him. He'd have gotten them plenty of money by the time she decided to leave.

With a considering look, Natala finally shrugged, then spoke to the bartender. "Just give me something good."

She turned around while waiting for her drink, curiosity winning her over as she listened to and observed all of these strange people around her. Not too strange, apparently some things were universal. She barely contained a snort of laughter at the man mimicking the woman at a nearby table. She eyed the two, wondering what the other female had on her mind that she was so willing to ignore the insult the man was conveying by mimicking her.

I like milk. It tastes good.

Dech stood up from the attentions of Nicol. "We got customers, love."

Hopping over the bar in yet the same spot as before, Dech slid a Guiness down the bar, just for the heck of it.

"Welcome to the No Name. A more wretched hive of scum and villainy does not exist in this system."

"Dech, seriously." Nicol laughed.

"Hey, at least it sounded good."

Proud member of (url="http://"")The Fifth Column(/url).
Good things come in small packages.

“Hey guys,” Larra spoke up suddenly, interrupting Page’s answer to Ta-vora’s question. “Ever wonder why I’ll won’t be caught dead in a skirt?” The two looked blankly at her, wondering if she was still sane.

In answer, Larra pointed halfway across the bar to where Demon was, her violet eyes shining with obvious amusement. The shapeshifter had taken the form of a large German Shepherd, to seem a little less out of place. Now he was trotting towards two people, the urge to play tricks too strong to ignore.

With a doggy grin, he stepped up to the serious looking woman in black, placed his head on her knee, and began to drool all over her leg.

“There’s one reason,” Larra laughed, finding the incident funnier than her companions. Though she didn’t bother to rest her hand on the only weapon she carried, a bizarre looking blaster, Larra was ready to step in to save her friend at any moment. It was quite normal for him to need regular saving.

“Does he ever quite being obnoxious?” Ta-vora asked, eying the shapeshifter curiously.

“Nope. You saw what happened when he had to be good for three days, when we went to Pax on your ship.”

Ta-vora nodded, remembering the many times his crew had wanted to jettison the crazy shapeshifter. “So Page, about your ship again...we need to fix that computer.”

Page nodded thoughtfully, and took a long pull on his cigarette.

If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

A sigh escaped her frosty blue lips as she now felt two gazes upon her. A man...and a woman, it seemed? But who knew and quite frankly, she didn't care. She wondered how she would go through with this, as she lost herself in deep thought. And the staring eyes weren't helping her at all in thinking but she tried to ignore them and succeeded. Was so use to having people stare at her that she had learned to just brush it off. But she then looked to the man who was mimicking her, and she slowly went down to pull out the dagger that had been hidden in one of her boots. She raised it up and put her hand flat out on the table to spread her fingers as she started to stab in between them. It was a game she had learned and was quite good at as she started to quicken the pace while she stared at the man. If he mimicked her perfectly, he also needed a knife of some sort to mimick her now and do what she's doing... Who knows, he might end up regretting mimicking her as she now stared at her hand as she stabbed the blade hard into the table between her fingers and stopped for a moment as she waited to see if the man would do what she was doing. If he didn't, she would win and she knew this and so should he.


Natala didn't waist any time before taking a gulp of the Guiness. She closed her eyes for a moment, considering the taste on her tongue. She smiled slightly, then grinned at the two standing by the bar. "Not a bad drink. Considering this system doesn't seem to have much more than this station, I wouldn't be surprised if that was true. Though I suppose there's always the possibility that another bar could be worse."

She took her eyes away from the woman, bored with the old game. She'd seen many do that before. Anybody could do it with practice. She looked around the bar as she sipped the rest of her drink, savoring the texture before downing it. it was always enjoyable to try something new.

She really should do something to help the kid. He was busy resupplying the ship while she sat here doing nothing. Well, getting drunk maybe, if she drank enough. Which might be fun. Spending months in space with her former best friend's little brother, a rude ship that she swore had the same personality as Alenia, and absolutely no alcohol was definitely not fun.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and snickered to herself as a four legged creature drooled on the woman she had previously been watching. And she hadn't even noticed yet. She considered the animal, wondering what exactly it was. They had similar things, but not quite so... furry.

Natala shrugged, then discreetly looked around the bar, the silver colored material of her clothes shifting with her. Bar's were a good place to gather information. Like where someone like her would go if they had no identification. She finished off her drink and glanced at the bartender. "May I have another? By the way, do you know anyone who would have any information on where people, who look like me, could go and be inconspicuous even if they didn't have any identification?"

I like milk. It tastes good.

"The galaxy is pretty friendly. As far as not blending in... stay in pretty much any Renegade space and you'll be fine." Dech slid another Guiness down the bar.

The door burst open again, slightly less violently. An odd-looking man slammed the door behind himself and screamed, "Dech!"

Dech cringed. "Ace, good God man, it's a bar. Use your inside voice, for the love of all things sane."

Ace grinned. "We got guns. Lots of guns."

Proud member of (url="http://"")The Fifth Column(/url).
Good things come in small packages.


Originally posted by TheGreenFile:
**Dech cringed. "Ace, good God man, it's a bar. Use your inside voice, for the love of all things sane."

Page shot up and balled his fists at the name. When he saw the old man at the door, he relaxed. He then noticed that everyone in the scantily populated bar was staring at him.
"Uh.. I'm drunk..." he said. Page then walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the center stools. He brushed his thick black hair back, reveling his pale face (his eyes hidden behind a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses) and a fair share of pierced appendages.
"How you doin?" Dech asked tipping an invisible hat to Page.
"Eh, not bad, I've got a wrecked ship, a killer hangover, no home, a bounty on my head big enough to buy 5 crescent warships, and not a cent in my pocket."
"Sounds like you need a drink on the house," Dech grinned.
"Just give me the most alcoholic thing in the bar."
Jokingly Dech placed a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the bar, chuckling as he turned around and began pouring Page a glass of rum.
When he turned around again he saw Page burp and place the empty bottle of rubbing alcohol back on the bar,
Dech's expression was blank.
"Damn that hit the spot," Page discarded his depleted cigarette and lit a new one.
"That was rubbing alcohol."

Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...