NationStates Jolt Archive

Stationmaster John Trenton stared at the display screen in front of him, a few final forms needed to be filled out and some minor details attended to. What was left would take twenty minutes, tops. Twenty minutes, and then the first Arcadia Installation in Sol would be on-line and ready for business. A glorious day for the Association.


Broad Beam Transmisson
Transmission Origin: Stationmaster John Trenton, Associated Systems Installation Nirvana, Sol System

Greetings one and all, I bring good news from the Sol System! The first Arcadia Installation has been installed in Sol, the birthplace of Man, and is open to all.

Used for a variety of purposes, most major systems are home to at least one Installation. They typically serve as the center of trade and communications for the surrounding star system. Home to scores of smaller ships, including repair vessels, freighters, fighters, and transports, an Arcadia class Installation is always a safe haven for a convoy of attack ships returning from battle or for a Fortune 500 CEO just out of a difficult board meeting. Where the Orion is the symbol of Klonor power, the Arcadia is the shining beacon of stability.

The newest of them all, the Nirvana is now open for business!

Transmission closed

OOC: Okay, board and have fun! You can be a business owner, customer, soldier on leave, whatever. Have fun!

My usual "Spell right or get out!" rule doesn't apply here since not everybody is going to be interacting with me, the odds are good I wont IC'ly see a majority of you. However, if you do plan on IC interaction with me you better spell correctly.

Arcadia Installation Specs:
Crew: 10,000
Passenger Capacity: 15,000
Housing Facilities: 27 Four-Star Hotels
Repair/Refueling Capacity: Freighters to Mid-Sized Capital Ships
Armament: 20 Beam Cannons, 250 Laser Turrets, 75 Flak Guns
Fighter Capacity: 300
Price: 500 billion

http://www.volition-inc.com/fs/images/spacecraft/gti-arcadialg.jpg

"Docking procedure has been completed. All passengers must retrieve their baggage and depart this vessel in fifteen minutes or face severe consequences," the cool voice of the airbus's NI system announced.

Sergeant First Class Jean Dren might have wanted to stay to meet the owner of the voice. Since that option was not available, and the voice's owner would have had him thrown out the airlock, he retreived his green duffel bag from the overhead bin and moved to the exit, last in the long line of marines and crew of the WSOGS frigate Durant.

"Had a good flight, sergeant?" the woman at the exit inquired. She wore the same gray marine armor as Dren. The difference was that she also had her weapons.

"Yeah," Dren nodded. "Peachy."


****

The Nirvana station was small, Dren noted,a fraction of a fraction of a fraction the size of the Cloudhavven Consolidated station that acted as stardock, commercial center, and general place of ill repute; through whose corridors and spaces moved twenty million people a day.

For Dren, it was good enough. The Durant had spent six months on station in the outer Jinnae system, looking for elusive pirates that were preying on mining lighters carrying ore from the system's hellish two planets. The frigate was too small to rate official prostitutes, and Dren's first order of business was in finding a decent brothel.

The marine adjusted the strap of his bag, which was actually made of nanofiber strong enough to resist most rounds.

(OOC: Did you steal the name Jack Blake from me? Because I have been using that name since january, I am not yelling, just asking)

(OOC: Did you steal the name Jack Blake from me? Because I have been using that name since january, I am not yelling, just asking)

Erm...no. Jack is the name of a friend of mine. Blake is the name of both a person and a company in a Glen Cook novel. I'll change it, sorry.

(OOC: Ok, thank you :) )

Ulong Qan wiped a few counter tops with a damp rag, not really cleaning but going through the motions. Every table, chair, and visible bit of floor, ceiling, and wall had been scrubbed so they gleamed, there was nothing left to clean. But the first customer hadn't arrived yet and Ulong needed something to do.

The Screaming Wookie Bar & Grill, legendary throughout Klonor and even other Nations of the Stars, was built de-facto on every new Arcadia without exception, but they were still rare enough to make a manager position something to seek. This was Ulong's first controlling op, he'd always been in the service branches on the other Arcadias and he was a bit nervous. So he cleaned.

Screaming Wookie Bar & Grill

Home of the Collostomizer and first stopping point of any Dealer within a Parsec, come join the throngs of satisfied customers!

The sign proclaimed this to all who passed, and Ulong knew it wouldn't be long until somebody walked in.

OOC:

"We are giving you a chance to surrender!"

"There's no way this bluff is going to work."

"Put a cork in it fast Eddy, there's positively no way they know we're out of ammo."

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"Yeah, they're definitely out of ammo. What are your terms?"

"Their what?"

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"Our what?"

"I can't believe this is actually working. See if you can get Lopez back, Sarge."

"Oh yeah, cause then he can fix the Warthog."

"Oh! Oh! Sarge, tell them we want the flag!"

"Yeah, and some cake!"

"Oooooooh. Wait, wait, Sarge...... just the cake."

"All right, blues. First off, we want your flag....."

"Wait, wait, wait just a second. The last time we got the flag the chick in the black armor showed up."

"....... to stay right where it is. Keep the flag. But we do want our mechanized droid guy back."

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"Uh-oh"

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"You may know him as Senor El Roboto."

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"Well, Church, what's it gonna be?"

"Now way, I'm not giving back my body! I just got this thing!"

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"And don't think you can keep his nuts.......... or bolts and other mechanical parts."

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"Uh........ he's not here anymore."

"Yeah, he left! He was all like 'Sayanara!' and then he just took off!"

"That's not Spanish, you idiot. That's French. Let's try this. Hey Reds! How about a medic? Would you take a medic as a hostage?"

"A hostage? But I'm supposed to go over there."

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"Yeah, that sounds pretty good to me."

"I don't know, I think we can hold out for more."

"We don't have any bullets, dumbass."

"Oh, right. Take the medic. The medic's a good deal."

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"Hey Doc, how's the patient?"

"Doing well, he seems very alert and responsive."

"He's talking about Caboose, right?"

"No, I mean his toe, How's the toe I shot?"

"What, that thing? That fell off like half an hour ago."

"Rest in peace pinky toe! You shall be avenged!"

"Tell you what, go ahead and send me over. I really don't think I can be any more help."

"Okay, we're going to send over our medic. Now what do we get?"

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"You? You're surrendering! You don't get anything except humiliation and ridicule!"

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"We've already got that! What else do you have?"

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"What do you want?"

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"How about if you admit that the red team sucks?"

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"What if we admit that one of us sucks?"

"Nice! Wait, you mean Donut, right?"

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"Okay then, we agree to the terms?"

"You first, and then we send over the medic."

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"Get on with it, Grif."

"(Loud groan) I would just like to let everyone know that I suck.........."

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"And..........."

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"And that I'm a girl.........."

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"What else..........."

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"And I like ribbons in my hair, and I want to kiss all the boys."

"This may be the best surrender of all time."

"Okay, is that good enough?"

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"Yeah. All right, go ahead Doc."

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"Man, I really hope you're worth this."

"Can I ask you a question? Do they put something in the water here?"

"Water? We ran out of water six months ago."

"No water? Then what do you drink?"

"You know, ketchup, soy sauce, gravy, the usual."

"I only drink the blood of my enemies!............. and occassionally a strawberry Yoohoo."

This has been an unnecessarily large BUMP

OOC: Echo........echo.........echo........

OOC: Shop at the Klonor Ship Store!

http://www2.freepichosting.com/Images/134012/0.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=346008)
http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/kwsig.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=288603)
http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/ksig8.jpg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=292319)
http://hometown.aol.com/jbk405/images/ksig4.jpeg (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=353996)

OOC:

"You shot Church you team killing fucktard!"

-Tucker

For the love of God, somebody join! Whenever I make it invite only I get a dozen people barging in, yet when it's open people end up avoiding it like the plague! What is up with that?

A man dressed in a worn and weary looking outfit cover by a long and even older looking jacket which reached all the way to the top of his calf high boots entered the bar. Obviously the man was some sort of wanderer.

He sat at one of the many empty stools in the even more empty bar. He removed his wide brimmed "Cowboy" style hat and set it on the counter. Revealing a jagged scar that cut a gash along across his face much of his face was also pitted with burns. His skull was also ringing with the unique eye stripping typical of Wickians, his was a deep red that contrasted with his green eyes, and if one looked deeply into his eyes they would feel ice closing around their hearts for they were cold. Yet he had something else 99% of Wickian did not possess, Hair. Black as space his long hair tied in a tight ponytail that reached down his back.

He looked at the barkeep: "Whisky, WIckian if you have it, if not the best the Sollies have to offer will suffice."

"Whiskey? Is that all? Wouldn't you want something a bit stronger?"

He reaches under the counter, brining up two different bottles and pouring two glasses.

"Here's your whiskey, but let me know if you want something on the next level."

He downs the shot.

"I do not doubt there are stronger products, but I find nothing tastes as well as Whisky to me."

And he downs another shot.

"So, lets see that stronger stuff already." the WIckian told the barkeep.

It's tough being a merchant. Chojiro Shounin had been making the Pegasi to Sol route for a few months straight, and he was significantly ahead of schedule for his next delivery. He was leaving the system when he picked up a message detailing a place for him to get away for awhile.

A shower'd be nice, he thought. And a few stiff drinks. Some company, maybe, if I can find it. Plus, respite from pirates...

He turned his small trader ship around set a course for the Nirvana. When he arrived a few minutes later, he requested docking for his ship and landed. He had been paid in advance for the job he was on now, so he wasn't worried about being able to afford a nice room for a day or two. And drinks... he had enough money to cover those.

He grabbed a small green duffel bag and walked off the ship. He set the security alarm and looked for the first hotel.

No, the first bar, he thought. Then the hotel, and some clean clothes too.

"Before I pour, you'll need to sign this waiver form. I also need an assurance that you do not suffer from any heart defects, and you have not been plagued by seizures within the past 6 months."

He slides the form across the bar, along with a pen.

"Once you've filled that out, you can have a drink."

A Probe drops out of transwarp, having gotten the transmission, the BORG decided to "Investigate" the Arcadia installation. Scanners pick up some weaponry but no sign of sheilds. on a random level within the installation a BORG Drone suddenly materealizes out of nothing. looking first to the left, and then to the right, the Drone heads off North by Northeast looking for a map or a computer to access to find an electronic map.
OOC:
Drone: This particular one is an Eight foot tall humanoid of unknown origin
It has absolutly no personality or sense of self, It also lacks feelings. Instead of a Right Eye It has an Eye implant capable of seeing on the Infrared sectrum and has a laser protruding from the center to aid with depth perception. All drones are remarkably good shots due to that very laser allowing for laser guided shots. He is capable of Assimilation, and, has deactivated phaser technology in his Arm.

OOC: Uh...what do you mean no shields? Shields are all over the thing

OOC: I didn't see mention of it in your description, although it is entirly possible that I, as perfect as I am, may have POSSIBLY missed it.

IC: The drone walked on and eventually ran into a wall. looking all around itself, the drone turned south and followed the wall still looking for something or someone to give him a map.

OOC: You're right, it's not in the info. That doesn't matter. I also don't say how it creates artifical gravity but you're posting as if it does, or the power source even though you post as if it has power, or even the diameter at its thickest point and yet you still post as if it has diameter. I don't include what info I don't think needs to be included. It has shields.

OOC: A Klonor ship without shields? My goodness, people would be lining up to hit it!

IC: Shounin walked down the main stretch of shops and eateries, but he didn't want any of that. There would be plenty of time to eat, after he got what he craved. He hadn't touched a drop in a few years, being always "on the road," and with the problems he had before in his life. But now he had a few days off, some cash, and a hunger for the only real companion he ever had.

He found a bar and walked in. A man about as scruffy as he was sat in one of the stools, and he sat down one seat over from him. He looked over at the man and nodded a greeting and then caught the bartender's eye.

"Something strong and cheap!" he ordered.

OOC: I didn't post as if it had anything. I merly posted that you had weaponry and concluded from the nice pictures you provided that it had more than one level, I really try not to assume anything on here unless I am provided confermation. This is our first dealing with your nation, therefore I don't know if you ausually carry sheilds or not, now if you don't mind, my drone is still lost.

IC: the Drone found a stairway and headed up, finding a doorway at the top, he tried it once or twice found it locked. Not wanting to upset these unknown peoples the drone wandered back down the stairs andcut straight across the compound only to run across what appeared to be an armed guard protecting the enterance to a more sensitive area.
"We are BORG." The drone told the Guard.
"We are lost." The Drone informed the guard.
"You will provide us with a map to find our way around," the drone continued to inform the guard in its neutraly unemotional, dull tone of voice.

OOC: Dude you're an unknown and unauthorised Alien stomping around a ship. The first thing to happen is the guard tearing into you with the arsenal he's carrying and calling down the rest of the ships military to clean it up. You might want to re-do your approach ;)

IC:

The bartender stares at the new arrival, sizing him up.

"Well, which is it? Cheap or strong, we don't carry both here."

He signs the waiver and anticipates the drink “I suggest the strong, its almost enough to make one forget...almost." The Wickian told the newcomer.

"Damn, that's usually how it is for the good stuff." He thought about it for a few seconds and finally decided. "I'll take the strong stuff."

As the bartender produced another waiver, Shounin turned to the other man at the bar. "Thanks for the suggestion," he said "My name's Chojiro Shounin, but you can call my Cho if you'd like."

The bartender leans down, opening an extremely thick safe and pulling out a botle of slightly blue liquid.

"Two Collostomizer's coming up. You two might want to grab a booth for these."

OOC: If you never saw Star Trek, then you wouldn't understand the BORG character. I lifted the BORG straight from there. I am Role-playing their personality exactly as it is portrayed on the series. However, sense you don't want me to meet a guard just yet, I will change it. One would think that for all your technology, you would have detected a single drone teleporting onto your ship and would be trying to find it.

IC The Drones Eye piece had been malfunctioning again. After the Nanites fixed it, he discovered it was actually a pipe he was talking to. If he had feelings, he would of felt stupid. looking at the doorway he noticed it to was locked. finding a hallway open, he started down it only to find another open area and what appeared to be a public computer with a map of the ship on proud display. scanning at speeds faster than most humans can think, the drone quickly began scanning the entire map into the Hivemind so it could be copied into the computer database.

OOC: Yes, trying to find it and kill it like I just said. Also, how did you transport through the shields? You still haven't answered that.

You remember those scans the Probe took when it first arrived? BORG alter their technology on the fly to match enemy abilities meaning that when I scanned You I altered my teleporters to match your energy signature, there by allowing me to bypass them. If you were to, oh, say, alter your energy signature, I would be trapped until I rescanned your ship. this also happens to be how you defeat a drone because they behave in a similar manner. any and all weapons work on them only two or three times before they adapt themselves. In essence a strategy against me cannot be set in stone and must be ever changing or else I will simply begin to absorb your attack. I am sure however that you will have no problem doing so.

Usually, she was something special to look at.

At this very moment though, Vendra Arlington just looked...plain. Bland as vanilla. A nobody. She liked this feeling, just before putting on her work clothes, the sensation of being just a regular person. In a few moments, she would need to be much more. She stepped into the hypo-shower, and let the needle-spray of hot water caress her long body. After the shower, she dried and powdered herself, and began to apply her make-up. She decided to wear a different perfume tonight, though she wasn't sure why. She dabbed a few drops of "Resistance is Futile" behind her ears, and smiled to herself.

20 minutes later, she was finished and ready to go earn her keep. The creature that stepped out of her small living quarters was no longer Vendra, but a stunningly beautiful woman who called herself simply "Joy". The red slip that barely covered her toned and ample figure was made of material that seemed like liquid, clinging to her and moving like waves over her breasts and hips. Long, long legs ended in perfectly painted toes, strapped into null-grav high-heels. Her flaming red hair fell to her waist and framed her face perfectly. The smile on her full lips stated that she was ready.

She walked down the corridor towards the Screaming Wookie, hoping to get her first drink of the evening. She drew the gaze of every man that passed her, and many women as well. Entering the bar, she immediately gravitated towards the back, and the friendly face of the bartender, Ulong. It was early, with only a few patrons in the normally busy Wookie. She took a seat, noticing that Ulong was already preparing her usual drink, the Allanean Martini. It was an unusual drink in that no matter how hard you tried to finish it, it always seemed full.

She lit a "twig" as she waited for her drink, puffing gently on the mild narcotic.

Shounin watched as the bartender donned thick gloves and began mixing the ingredients. He began to worry that he didn't read the waiver very well. The name didn't make it any easier for him. "What exactly does this thing do to you?" he asked.

Joy glanced around the dark bar, sizing up the potential. It was still early, and the pickings were scarce. The scarred man with the poneytail was definitely out: he looked like a wackjob, and broke to boot. The other man seemed more interested in watching Ulong create his house special, the "Collostomizer", than talking to a pretty woman. Joy had never sampled the unique beverage, but had seen the results of it often. The bluish drink seemed to affect different people in different ways, some of them not so pretty. Joy decided to stick with her martinis...speaking of which...

"Hey, handsome...now I know how you got your name: it takes 'Ulong' to get my drink!" Joy said, humor in her deep voice and a brilliant smile on her face.

OOC: Unless I'm mistaken, and I highly doubt I am, the Borg have no defense against simple bullets. The 'Borg Shields' which make each drone immune to energy weapons after adaption have no effect upon matter. This can be seen in Star Trek: First Contact when Captain Picard massacres the two Borg on the holodeck. The KSMAR-1000 is much better than the Tommy Gun used by Picard. I don't think it will be to hard to take out that one solitary Borg.

IC:

"It's got Whiskey, Vodka, two shots of Scoth, and a slosh of Elarian Ale (Which actually happens to be illegal throughout Klonor and a majority of the rest of the Universe). What the hell do you think it will do to you?"

He grabs the two glasses and slides them across the bar.

"Get ready for a kick."

He then reaches behind him and grabs a glass which had been sitting there for quite a while, sliding it across to the beautiful woman.

"I've always got one waiting for you."

"Promises, promises...charmer." replied Joy, deftly retrieving the glass as it slid down the bar. She took a sip, enjoying the warm glow that accompanied it as it slid down her throat. Ulong made a mean martini, and watched out for her as well. Joy felt safe here, safer than a few of the other clubs on the station. She continued to smoke, idly blowing rings into the air.

"Quiet night, darlin'. Anything expected to dock tonight?" Joy asked, knowing that Ulong was a great source of any information, including ship schedules and passenger lists. He would always let Joy know when a high-roller was coming into town, and she in return would often get information from her clients that was useful to Ulong. After all, pillowtalk is a great truth-serum. They helped each other...tit for tat. More tat than tit, she thought wryly. Ulong had never made a pass at her.

She sipped her drink, waiting for his reply.

"Jeez. What's a Weyrean gotta do to get laid 'round here? I feel like a friggin' Jonalian sleezeball. Is it the long ears, or the fact that I only command a squad, or what?" Dren fumed, abscently snapping the wrist of a pickpocket. "Sixty years ain't old...Jen gets laid every day and he's four hundred...." Weyreans were practically immortal thanks to modern science, and rarely looked over thirty Terran years.

The marine finally gave up. Adjusting his metabolism to compensate for lowered blood sugar, he headed to the first eatery he saw -- the Screaming Wookie. His sharp gray eyes quickly took in the occupants -- a shabby humanoid with a ponytail, a man fussing about his drink, a hooker, and the barkeep himself.

"Anything from the grill, and your strongest," Dren ordered, taking an unoccupied barstool. Unslinging his duffel, he deposited the bag beneath his feet.

Ulong sighed quietly to himself, he saw this was going to be a big C day and he was not in the mood to shovel another pile of limp spacers out the door again. If he was lucky they were only unconcious, if he was unlucky they were........well, it was a good thing they all signed the waiver.

"Nothing major. A few tramp freighters and a couple patrol ships, nothing up to your level. And what can I get for you, sir?"

tag

So...what would be the sensations of drinking this?"

"Anything," Dren shrugged, leaning forward. "As long as it's solid, dead, and made of protein."

"You're in luck! We're running a special on solid dead proteins!"

He then brings out a plate of solid dead proteins and slams it on the counter.

"You want a drink with that?"

Shounin took a swig of the drink. Suddenly he found himself in his younger days, drinking away the weekend when he was granted leave. Nothing stopped him from drinking the week away either, which is why he ran into a problem as a pilot in the Stellar Corps. He served his country honorably, until the day he ran his fighter into a civilian transport, killing everybody on board. It made him turn to drinking even more, but he'd been clean for a few years and just recently started up again. None of his clients noticed it, and they still got their packages on time.

It was almost too strong for him, but he didn't think that was very possible. Please, I could drink an elephant under the table, he thought. He could feel the alcohol already beginning to work its way into his system, quickly working its way to his brain.

He noticed the woman who just walked in. If I'm going to get any tonight, I've got to keep my composure, he thought, this time taking a small sip of the drink. Maybe dinner isn't a bad idea.

He waited until he caught Ulong's attention again and ordered. "I'll take something heavy, with lots of carbs in it. Something like a pasta sandwich with pancakes on the side."

OOC: Pasta sandwhich with pancakes on the side? Dude, are you drunk in RL?

Oh, and I must say that I am impressed. Most people go under after the first drop gets down their throat. Kudos!

IC:

"Pasta sandwhich with pancakes on the side? Dude, are you drunk already?"

OOC: He needs something to soak up all the alcohol, and there's a lot of alcohol in him. Seems logical to me (or at least him).

And he is a back-off-the-wagon alcoholic, after all. Hopefully he'd have built up a tolerance to numerous doses of booze.

IC: "Well let me say that you make a mean drink," he said, beginning to slur his words. "And it's messin' with my mind right now. And I've got to keep my composure for the laaaaaadies." As he lingered on the word "ladies," he turned to look at Joy, eyeing her from head to toe.

OOC: Yeah, but he just sloshed down a drink containing an alcohol so potent it has been declared a controlled substance, forbidden throughout the Associated Systems of Klonor, and caused His Jimliness (A chronic alcoholic beyond even the Grand Duke Solomon Klonor) to fall over retching.

Man, this guy must get smashed........kickass!

IC:

"You're the customer."

He sends the order to the back, getting the cooks working on the bizarre combination.

"It'll be out a few minutes."

OOC: Well, he's only had one big sip and one little sip so far, and it's already working him over pretty bad.

IC: "Thanks man." He took out a hundred Gold Templars (exchange rate? It's supposed to be a good tip) and handed it to the bartender. "If my night keeps going well, I'll be back to give you some more."

OOC: Going exchange rate is 3 Universal Standard Dollars equals 1 Klonor Floren

IC:

"Thanks mate."

He quickly scoops up the coins and pockets them, securing them from any possible reconsiderations on the part of the tiper.

Another big soldier type entered the bar, danger dripping from him. Joy tried to avoid these types because they usually liked to play rough, and pay little. She watched him, trying to guess where he was from. This was an old game of hers, and over time she had become almost uncanny in her ability to determine someones origin by just looking at them.

Joy was idly stirring her drink when she heard the unmistakeable sound of money. She looked over, seeing the man at the bar paying for his drink with strange, gold coins. It seemed like he had left a big tip, based on the smile on Ulongs normally dour face. Joy liked big tippers. She looked at the man again...he looked like a military man, but was dressed as a freebooter. Probably ex-military, she thought to herself. She noticed that he was now staring at her, a normal occurence wherever she went. She caught his eye briefly, smiled slightly, and held his gaze. She sipped her drink, running her tongue over her lips slowly.

"So, stranger...what do you think of Ulongs 'Collostomizer'?"

OOC: If my drone Dies, oh well. I have millions more just like him to replace him. I am glad to see that you know a bullet can kill a drone, but just as true is the fact that these aren't your ordinary run of the mill drones any more. i have begun upgrading them to 29th century technology and beyond. If you watched Voyager for it's entire run, You would have seen the episode where The Docter's mobile emitter, from the 29th century, was envolved in a freak accident to create a 29th century drone. There sheilds are really improved, the have teleportation nodes in their bodies, and a few other things I can't remember at the moment.

IC: The drone was finished downloading the map. The Collective wanted to know what species these people were. A bar know as The Screaming Wookie seemed to be a popular gathering point. The drone stood their for a few minuets while the collective decided how to proceed. Suddenly, the drone turns right, and heads for the screaming Wookie.

OOC: Dude, if you couldn't tell, I just really don't want the Borg in on this. I didn't want to say it flat out cause I don't want to offend you (the player) but you (the nation) just wouldn't be very good for the RP

<<OOC: ...and I would have put on a different perfume, one called "Assimilate THIS!" >>

He took another small sip of the drink, leaning back and almost falling off the stool. He caught himself before he fell and tried to bring himself back to an upright position.

When joy started talking to him, his mind went crazy. Wow, TWO women talking to me!

Swaying back and forth on the chair, he answered her. "This is the bessssst drink I've ever had ever! It's got so many colors going on in my head, and as soon as I get that pasta sandwich, I'll be able to have a lot more!"

He stood up and stumbled briefly but remained on his feet. He moved towards Joy. "Name's Chojiro, but you can call me whatever you want."

The Collostomizer claimed another victim, and as Joy stepped back to avoid the suddenly unsteady man, she looked at Ulong knowingly. At least the plastered man still remembered his own name...for now. She felt a pang of sympathy for the stranger, then mentally crossed him off her list. Joy enjoyed her job with a passion, taking as much pleasure as she gave. It wasn't always about the money, though she HAD broken her own rules on a few occasions: some numbers are damn hard to say no to...but usually, she didn't work with drunks.

Joy watched the man...Cho-something...warily out of the corner of her eye as she reached for her drink. She sat down farther away, at a safe distance. She could protect herself, but it was tough to kick-box in the dress she was barely wearing. She relit her twig, drawing deeply. She blew out the smoke, then followed it with a long sip from her glass, which was still full. She raised it in the air then nodded at Ulong.

"God Bless the Allanean Martini..." she smiled, her glass held high in mock salute, "...and of course, the Collostomizer!"

The WIckian took the powerful drink in stride he savored its flavor as it burned its way down his throat. The room did start to blur and become wavy and he thought should he continue to drink he should have some food in his stomach. It got him this buzzed and he was only done half the glass.

"A fine drink you mix my friend, perhaps I should order some substance now, do you have Buffalo Wings? If so I want a pound of them."

The WIckian like any male who was a little tipsy thought with his body first as he glanced at Joy he saw another pound of something he would want to get a hold off. But was too much the gentleman to say such things aloud. Besides its only been a month since he stopped wearing his wedding band...that painful memory caused him to drink some more, and the pain went away for a little bit.

OOC: Where else but in a klonor thread would I RP ordering a meal…I love it

"Buffalo Wings? What the hell is a Buffalo? (FYI: Buffalo are not only extinct in Klonor, they never existed. The ancient land in Sol was never inhabited by them and when we went space we didn't bring any.)"

His voice dies down as one of the guys in back throws out an answer.

"Oh. Why didn't you say so? Coming right up."

A bare thirty seconds later, still before the complex sandwhich is out, a plate of Wings is right in fron of the WIckian steaming in all its goodness.

As the WIckian begins to consume the delicious wings he thinks to himself that it is the simple things in life that make it worth living.

Shounin watched the WIckian get his order before he got his.

I'm not that drunk, am I? Didn't I order first? he thought.

The alcohol led him through a strange series of thoughts, and his recent rejection by the only lady he'd seen didn't help any.

"Why did he get his food first?" he wondered aloud-- very aloud. "What's it take to boil some water, put some pasta in it, and put it between two slices of bread? It's not like I asked you to go to Buffalo like the other guy!"

In one instant the bar turned into a very unpleasant place to be, with seventeen different guns pointed at various parts of Shounin's body.

"Sit down very slowly. Your order is being prepared. Pasta takes time to cook, it can't just be zapped like a plate of Buffalo wings. Pancakes need to be poured. It takes time. Now you will sit down and be quiet, are you will not be able to sit down. This might be a bar, but it's a bar that stays in business because I will not tolerate any disturbances. Do I make myself clear?"

He was too drunk to notice the full ramifications of his actions, but he was smart enough to know that when guns were pointed at him, the other guy meant business. He suddenly was feeling a little more sober.

"Whoa, we don't need to be getting all hostile here," he tried to explain. "All I'm saying is that Klonor can cut a planet in half, but you guys can't boil water any faster? Here we are, sitting in a marvel of technology, and we can't get water to one hundred celsius any faster. What a world to live in..."

He ended his rant and pulled some more money out of his pocket, giving it to the bartender. "This is for my outburst, I hope I wasn't too troublesome. I'll just grab a table and wait for my food there."

He stood up and stumbled over to a booth, close enough to the entrance that he could see anybody coming in, but far enough away as to not invite any more firearms pointed at him.

A bell dinged and a lid lifted, out slid the pasta sandwhich with the side of pancakes.

"Sir? Your food is ready. Would you like any syrup for the pancakes?"

She had seen it coming, and planned accordingly. The moment the inebriated spacer named Cho raised his voice, Joy ducked down behind her barstool, pulling a small revolver from her thigh-holster. It only held two shots, but usually one was enough. The slugs that fired were a ceramic-composite, and though they had great stopping power at close range, they were no threat to the space station. The revolver had been a gift from an ex-lover, Dill Inger. It was the only gift he had ever given her.

Things quieted down, and she took her seat again. The smell of something spicy tickled her nose. She saw a huge plate of steaming...well, she wasn't quite sure what it was, but it DID look deliciously yummy. She followed the plate as it was served to the big spacer she had seen earlier. He began to eat voraciously, obviously enjoying every bite. Joy's trained eye immediately fell to his ring-finger, the slight indentation and different colored skin betraying his marital status. Either he had taken his wedding ring off for a night of cheating, or he was recently divorced. It didn't matter to her...she was an equal-opportunity call-girl. He wasn't bad looking at all, either.

She stood slowly, smoothing her silken dress over her ample curves. She was aware that all eyes were on her as she strode boldly towards the big man. As she got closer, the smell of the wings grabbed her attention, and she realized how hungry she really was. She came to a stop in front of the Wickians table, and looked down. Her voice was a throaty invitation.

"Good evening. I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I have never seen this dish before, and I am fascinated by alien cuisine. Would you be kind enough to tell me what it is you're eating?" Joy smiled a winning smile, full lips open to reveal perfect teeth. She watched as the Wickian looked straight ahead, then slowly ran his eyes up her body, pausing in the appropriate places. She could almost smell his desire, his need, and his money.

A great combination.

"Aye my lady, one as fair as you is always welcome to share a meal off my plate." The WIckian said "I have lived a long life and have been known my many names yet you may call me Mark Villers formerly of the Commonwealth Navy."

As he consumed another of the wings "These things are called Buffalo Wings, I picked up the habit of consuming them when I was stationed in Gregor, an old friend named Harris introduced me to them."

As he looked up her body eventually staring into her eyes, "I suspect you could say a lot of the same though, for if there is one thing I have found to be true it is that no one is exactly who they seem to be or say that they are." he said in a low voice before continuing "So my lovely enchantress of my heart, who are you?"

"Well, I guess that depends on WHO you want me to be...but you may call me Joy." replied the beautiful woman, slipping into the unoccupied chair. His question seemed innocent enough, yet she wondered whether Mr.Villars had some hidden meaning behind his query. There was no way he could know anything about her...she was not the same person she was 10 years ago. Cosmetic surgery, natural-gene implants and occular transformation had made Joy into a new person. Her old life was history.

"I am simply...a companion to those who have need of a sympathetic ear... or other needs." Joy stated the last with an impish grin.

"What about yourself, Mr. Villers? What brings you to the Wookie??"

"Joy a simple name for such a complex person. I imagine what you have told me is only a half truth of who you really are. Why am I here in Sol on this station...the loss of something special in a sense I suppose I am running away from what I love to find myself my purpose again."

"Syrup would be wonderfulllll," he said, taking his food to his seat in the booth. He came back to the counter to get his syrup and returned to his food. He took the pasta sandwich and stuffed a big bite into his mouth, letting the spaghetti hang down from his mouth as he chewed on the bread and pasta in his mouth. It was a good thing that he moved to a less conspicuous seat, because it wasn't a pretty sight at all.

The fear from before was still inside him, and now teamed with complex carbohydrates, he began to feel less woozy, but he was still nowhere near being sober. He picked up his dishes and brought them to the bar.

He found Ulong again and got his attention. "Uh, you wouldn't happen to have anything that can reverse the effects of this drink, would you?"

"Unless you want me to get some leaches to drain the blood out of you, I'd say you're out of luck."

A can is then brought out from underneath the table.

"Leaches are 5 Florens a pound."

"Joy a simple name for such a complex person. I imagine what you have told me is only a half truth of who you really are. Why am I here in Sol on this station...the loss of something special in a sense I suppose I am running away from what I love to find myself my purpose again."

"Life IS half-truths and mystery...no? We all live with secrets, and stories for only certain ears to hear." Joy replied, looking into Mark's eyes. They were deep, and filled with...regret. Was it because of what he left behind? Or maybe for what he was about to do? She reached over, and picked up one of the Buffalo Wings, the spicy sauce dripping down her slender fingers. Ever the professional, she slowly licked her fingers, one then the other. Smiling, she bit into the meat, surprised by the tenderness and enthralled by the sudden rush of heat to her lips.

"MmmMMmm...these ARE positively delightful!" she finished peeling the last strip of chicken off.

"I understand now why you had to leave your love behind...these things are worth it." Behind her words was the unspoken question...who did he leave behind?

OOC: Are there any criminals on the station? Smugglers or shady people that Higera may have a warrant out for?

"Ah yes my love...I bet you can tell a married man from a bachelor to even a widower, must be a necessary skill for someone of your profession is it not?" He scowled at the lady of the night, and then his voice softened. "I am sorry for that outburst for you touched an area that is still painful for me"

Mark paused and eats another wing before continuing,

"You see I have come to the conclusion that the universe has Angels and it has demons. The angels live out there lives as best they can in peace. Yet, evil manifests itself in the form of Demons, Demons who intend to do those innocents harm. However, there is another being out there, a protector of the innocence Archangels. These beings are neither innocent nor pure, they are killers with blood on their hands but their cause is just. My love and I were among these protectors. The Demons took here as she gave her life for the weak and innocent...and I am merely a survivor of that conflict beaten and battered and lost...I suppose i am here to see if there is anything left of my soul, to see if life is still worth living...if the angels still need protection when the cost is so dear."

Realizing he was beginning to disclose to much he stopped and began to chew on a piece of celery, staring at the beautiful woman across of him.
"I do hope I haven't bored you too much?" he asked of her.

"Great idea! Why didn't I think of this before?" he said excitedly, thinking a little more clearly now. "I don't need your leaches." Shounin turned to leave and then stopped in his tracks. "But I do need a bathroom..."

He used the facilities, paid his bill, and then walked out of the tavern. "Thank you for your!.." He bumped into the wall on his way out.

Shounin made his way back to the docking area where his ship was. He input his security code and stepped in. "Don't worry!" he called to the guards. "I'm not going to drink and pilot!"

He made his way aft. The ship wasn't that large, and he knew his way around enough to avoid bumping into anything. In the very back of his cargo hold was a case containing a small machine about the size of a holodisk player. He rubbed a disinfectant on the underside of his wrist and in his foot. He stuck himself in the arm with a needle-like device connected to the machine and inserted a similar one in his foot. The needle went in about 8 centimeters and blood came flowing out through the tubes. He flipped a switch and it started to whir, pumping the blood out of him and into the machine, then back into his foot.

He had this machine from his earlier days when he wanted to clean out his system before a major run. It sucked the blood from him, cleaned and separated it, and then reinserted the pure blood back into his body. The process would take awhile, and hopefully when he was done he would rest and then be able to go somewhere else and stay away from those crazy people in the bar.

OOC: Higera, there might be. There's nearly 30,000 people on the station, odds are somebody has run afoul of the law

The problem with the Higeran space program isn't necessarily its size, but its capabilities. The government had not funded technology that gave its ships faster-than-light capabilities, and so the Higerans were confined to Sol, becoming more of a defensive force than an offensive force. It was not that they couldn't afford to develop the technology themselves, or buy it from somebody else, but the government felt that Higera didn't need to be getting into extrasolar affairs.

That led to problems with bandits and raiders coming in, attacking, and then leaving the system again at high warp velocity. However, the lack of warp drives in the ships created a lot of extra room and energy for better weapons for ships their size. The police forces usually contracted out bounty hunters and other reputable professionals to bring the outlaws to justice. There were reports that one such bandit had stopped at the Nirvana and was enjoying himself on somebody else's riches.

Two small police cruisers entered the zone of the giant ship, dwarfing their ships. The captain called up the commanders of the Nirvana and stated their intentions.

"Attention Klonor ship Nirvana, this is Captain Stockwell of the Higeran Space Police Force. We are currently in pursuit of a wanted bandit and believe him to be hiding out on your station. We are prepared to come aboard, but we will abide by any laws you may have about weapon carrying. Please respond with your suggestions on our further course of action."

(OOC: If anybody wants to be the bandit, jump right in)

Direct Beam Transmission: Captain Stockwell, Higeran Space Police Force
Transmission Origin: John Trenton, Stationmaster, ASI Nirvana

You are welcome aboard the Nirvana, we are always pleased to assist in the enforcement of the law. All conventional forms of weaponry are allowed on station, as long as they are classified as soon as you board. There will be an attendant in the docking bay when you arrive to handle the clerical duties.

If you require any assistance do not hesistate to ask, we have a squad of Dealers aboard and they should be able quite helpful if you run into trouble.

May your quest prove fruitful!

Transmission Closed

Deep within the hull of the Ionia, Commodore Yolanda Paxley nervously looked at a map of the galaxy. The Ionia had just finished a secret mission of utmost importance to the Citizen Federation. As much as she would like to head straight for Tabula Rasa, it was just too far away. She was just waiting for the NavCom report from Lt. Cmdr. Felenk. He may not be the quickest man in FedFleet, but he's never let me down. she thought to herself.

"M'am. NavCom has just finished calculations...we'll need to do six jumps and we'll have to remain in SlipSpace for at least thirty nine days." Commander Felenk reported.

Commodore Paxley spun her chair around to face Felenk. "The crew won't be too happy about that. We've already been out of port for over six months and we've been through our fair share of incidents."

"Quite true," Felenk said while reflecting on the events of the past six months. The Praetor himself order the Ionia out for a mission to "bring The First Republic into the wider interstellar community". Bah. he thought to himself. He snapped back and continued his response to the Commodore, "we could use some supplies. Our Biomass reserves for the replicator system are down to near minimum levels and Engineering has had to shut down Fusion Reactors B and F for repair."

"Is there a safe place for us to resupply and be on our way without many questions, Mr. Felenk?" Paxely asked while walking to one of the science stations.

"One of our Receiver Beacons picked up a message. There is an installation called 'Nirvana' in Sol System. It will add a day to our journey, but we can get some supplies as well perhaps get at least some of the crew some shore leave."

"Alright, Mr. Felenk. Set course for 'Nirvana'. Best speed."


------------------------------------------


Just outside of the orbit of Saturn, the CFDS Ionia (http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2004-9/830994/Tillmann_CivilWar.gif) came out of SlipSpace. While not the newest, largest, or most powerful vessel in FedFleet she was still quite a sight. As soon as the Ionia re-entered normal space, Commodore Paxely transmitted her message.


TO: John Trenton, Stationmaster, ASI Nirvana
FROM: Commodore Yolanda Paxely, CFDS Ionia

We request permission to resupply at your fine facility. Upon confirmation of our request, a shuttle carrying several engineers and my first officer will depart for your station with a list of what we require. Should you not have berthing facilities to accomodate us, the Ionia carries enough transport shuttles to ferry supplies from Nirvana to the Ionia.

We also inquire about the possibility of shore leave for the crew. We expect to be on station for no more than 96 standard hours during which rotating shifts of 200 crewmembers will be on Nirvana on 'shore leave'.

We thank you for your time and consideration.



OOC: Specs of the Ionia (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6975907&postcount=2). Look at the "Dewey Class Battleship"

"You see I have come to the conclusion that the universe has Angels and it has demons. The angels live out there lives as best they can in peace. Yet, evil manifests itself in the form of Demons, Demons who intend to do those innocents harm. However, there is another being out there, a protector of the innocence Archangels. These beings are neither innocent nor pure, they are killers with blood on their hands but their cause is just. My love and I were among these protectors. The Demons took here as she gave her life for the weak and innocent...and I am merely a survivor of that conflict beaten and battered and lost...I suppose i am here to see if there is anything left of my soul, to see if life is still worth living...if the angels still need protection when the cost is so dear."



Joy realized that she was in deadly trouble. The man in front of her - the Hunter - must be playing a game with her...what did he know? WHAT DID HE KNOW?? Her old life was far behind, and she was no longer the same person...spiritually, emotionally or physically. Still, she did not believe in coincidence, and the danger was here, sitting in front of her, eating Buffalo Wings.

In her previous life, Joy had learned much of history and philosophy from her Master, who insisted she be as smart as she was deadly. One thing he taught her was the concept of keeping your friends close, and your enemies even closer. It had served her well. She reached out a strong yet gentle hand, covering the massive fist of the spacer. She held his eyes, the deep orbs clouded with confusion.

"I...sense your pain. We are similar in that we have both lost a great love from our lives. Yet, we carry on. You and I, Mr.Villars, are survivors."

She raised her martini, smiled boldy and said:

"To survival!"

"To survival!" the WIckian repeated raising his own glass.

OOC:Higera you could always make something up and go after the charecters already here, sure is a lot of mystery here btw gawdly whats ur nations name i want to send ya a tg

ooc: I understand, Knowing that I will simply remove the drone and give Higera a criminal to chase.

IC: The collective changed it's mind. It had other things to do rather than collect information on a station with apperently an irrelevant purpose. Recreation was something they would never understand. The drone teleported to his Probe, which then promptly opened a transwarp conduit to the depths of space, and, disappeared. Not for away coming out of the 5 mountains Hotel and casino was a man who saw the drone and wondered what the BORG were doing on this side of the universe. He shook it off as one of Life's mysteries. He was heading out for another evening of the rich life he was living. as he was heading for a local bar known as the Screaming
Wookie, he looked out a nearby window at the docking port, and, to his horror was a Higerian police ship. Thoughts raced through his mind, how did they know he was here, who called them did his passport comeback false? He regained his composer. He didn't leave any evidence behind. Besides, people who look guilty tend to get questioned, so he tried to look as innocent as would be natural, he didn't want to overdo it, that would get him questioned as well. Without further worrying, he continued towords the screaming wookie.

Direct Beam Transmission: Commodore Yolanda Paxely, CFDS Ionia
Transmission Origin: John Trenton, Stationmaster, ASI Nirvana

We would be more than happy to host your vessel, and have enough berthing space to accomodate you.

The facilities of the Nirvana are quite expansive, and I'm sure there will be no trouble fiding sufficient room for your crew. There are dozens of quality hotels throughout the station, you should find every need catered to.

Approach the station from System North and your docking port will be clearly marked. Welcome, and enjoy your stay!

Transmission closed

"To survival!" the WIckian repeated raising his own glass.

OOC:Higera you could always make something up and go after the charecters already here, sure is a lot of mystery here btw gawdly whats ur nations name i want to send ya a tg

<<OOC: Nation: Gawdly Region: Haven Lost
TG yer heart out!>>

The Ionia slowly made its way toward the docking port using the Gravatic engines to maintain control of the large ship.

"M'am. We have successfully docked. Request permission to start repair, resupply, and shore leave operations." Cmdr. Felenk said while beginning the primary engine shutdown procedures.

"Of course, I want all supplies and repairs to be finished within 68 hours. Make sure that the Marines are the first to get off the ship." Commodore Paxley said while supervising the power down of the weapons systems. FedFleet crewmen and officers can handle being in deep space for years at a time, Marines get stir crazy in only a few months. I hope that this visit will keep them in order long enough for us to get home. she thought to herself.

------------------------

The computerized male voice of the ship's AI, known as ComCom, updated the crew on their new condition:
*All hands, report to Inspection Stations. Shore leave Group Alpha, you stand relieved.*

------------------------

"Thank the gods. Man isn't meant to be in a ship this long." Lance Corporal Stewart Beckins said while gathering a few possessions for his shore leave.

"Damn straight, man. What's the point of putting Marines on a starship if we're not going to be used.

All I know is that I'm going to get a room and then get drunk. Very drunk..." Private Kornoth, Beckins best friend said while standing in the doorway of their shared room.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Beckins and Kornoth make their way to the Transporter Room.

"Before we left I got us a room at this little place not too far from the bars. We'll be set...as long as you remember to bring your credit chits." Beckins said as they stepped onto the Transporter Pad.

Their glasses touched, and they drank in silence for a moment. It was a good opportunity for Joy to slip away, and she excused herself from the table, claiming the need to take care of some personal business. She walked over to the bar, stopping across from Ulong, who was busy, as usual, cleaning glasses. Pulling out a twig, she leaned over the bar, her ample cleavage seeking escape from the tight, silken shift she wore. She waited for Ulong to offer her a light, and spoke to him in a hushed voice.

"That guy is...creepy. Did you see his scar? Can I hang out here with you for a few minutes?"

The goo was in the airvents watching an indescriminate bar in one of the hotels, how he got there he doesnt know (OOC: neither do i) but what he knows is that this is an opportunity for gaining information. I say he because this is not the mindless attack goo or the stoic defense goo, this is geoff, or at least part of the hive mind known as geoff. Evan in space geoff was strong and ready, the information would impress his masters when he relays it to them via the giant biological computer in lab Beta3 in the UE homeland.

For now his mind is focused, find toenail clippings, or pork scratchings, either was good in his book.

"When you've been in a Wookie for as long as I have it takes more than a scar to creep you out. But yeah, he is a bit off."

He reaches down and grabs a plate that he'd had under the counter for a few minutes

"I saw you take a liking to them, have a dozen on the house."

With that he dropped the Buffalo Wings on the counter, hoping he'd read her interest correctly

The officers, dressed in their navy blue uniforms, exited their ships at one of the docking ports on the much larger ship. There were two of them with plasma guns slung over their shoulders, and another one was carrying an automatic rifle. The rest had their regular pistols at their sides, the standard issue of the Higeran Space Police.

Captain Stockwell met the attendant and identified himself. "We believe the criminal is from Warhaven, and we have a Higeran warrant to search his ship. If we need a warrant for your jurisdiction as well, we will be more than glad to provide evidence to any magistrate or judge you may have on the station."

His men produced a document that was stamped with the approval of the Ministry of Justice and signed by the Minister himself. "Sir," he said to the Klonor representative, "if we can, we would like a list of the current ships docked at this station. If there are any problems with that, we would at least like the location of any Warhaven-registered ship docked here."

"When you've been in a Wookie for as long as I have it takes more than a scar to creep you out. But yeah, he is a bit off."

He reaches down and grabs a plate that he'd had under the counter for a few minutes

"I saw you take a liking to them, have a dozen on the house."

With that he dropped the Buffalo Wings on the counter, hoping he'd read her interest correctly

Her interest surpassed mouth-watering foodstuffs, but Ulong comported himself like a gentleman yet again. Joy wondered idly if he preferred the company of men to women. She smiled her thanks at him, and bit down into the succulent flesh, one eye still watching the Wickian. She doubted that he was actively looking for her, and that their meeting had been completely by chance. His type was not one for subtlety, and if he HAD been hunting her, the Wookie would probably have been a smoking crater by now.

She glanced at the plasma screen, the news anchors stiffly announcing the latest horror stories from around the universe: the Allanean's were still fighting a long-suffering war against the Federation of Sentient People, and it looked like it was going to get even uglier, what with the resistance provoking the occupying forces. The Sakkra race had come out of isolation, looking to renew diplomatic ties with other powerful nations, and the Tanah Burungians were calling for a boycott of Knootoss. Just another day in the galaxy.

Senior Lieutenant Kowleter nodded to the Higerians, quickly moving them along on their mission.

"If you will excuse me, sirs, I will go run this warrant through the ships computer. We need to make sure its authentic, after all. Once that's done, and it actually is proved to be authentic, I can take you to the registry section of the station. We can't let you have a list of currently docked ship, but we can let you look at ours. Police forces can be trusted not to abuse that information, somebody who happens to find the list when you accidentally drop it can't."

The door to the docking bay opened and in walked a Captain of the Dealers in full combat armor.

"This is Captain Weslan. He will be accompanying you on your search. Helping you find your way around and such.And killing you all if you take one step out of line. I'm sure he wont be an impediment."

Kowleter then walked over to the standard terminal at the edge of the docking bay, inserting the warrant and asking for authentication as well any information the computer had on the target.

The WIckian was content for now to just sit in his booth and finish his drink. Occasionally he would stare at Joy from a distance admiring here. He knew she was hiding something, something dangerous, perhaps from another life. At least she would only live one life, then die like all the others.

No, he was different he couldn't die his creators designed it so his body couldn’t be destroyed. It was his Fate he supposed all those he loved would die, just as Alyssa had most recently, just as Joy would eventually, everyone died but he would remain. Fate was cruel...for now he would run from his problems or lose them in drink. Either way the pain was just as great. What else could he do go back home, as the savior his people thought him to be, no he couldn’t...not yet. He would only fail them again.

click

click

flump

With two clicks and a flump, the living-metal airlock forced itself into the configuration required for the other-dimensional station. It flobbered cheerily, inviting all mobile beings to go through it, if they liked, and back, if they didn't. The airlock behind it, not accustomed to any such customs, simply whooshed open and waited.

Two tall figures walked through it, their dark green skin and dark red cloaks contrasting sharply with the gleaming shipmetal bulkheads of the Nirvana. They looked a bit like the Orcs of Melkor, except they were much taller, much smarter, had tusks, and, in general, were better in every way, these two in particular. They wore no visible weapons except for one blaster each in side holsters and one large, painted, carved hammer strapped onto each one's back. They wore no markings except for a heraldic rose in gold thread woven onto their cloaks. Their clothes seemed to be the rough, working-class effects found on the poorer of feudal robes. They stood straight and tall, the younger nearly six foot four inches, the older six foot two. Judging by the age difference one would assume they were father and son which, in fact, they were.

In fact, they were highly ranked members of the greatest space Empire to grace the starways of any universe, but that has another story. The father, Guoli Greathammer, was a celebrity and senator in that Empire, as well as a political leader amongst the greater of the Orcish clans. The son, Gama, was a high-powered diplomat slicing his way up the corporate ladder in one of the Empire's civilian contractor firms, as well as a part-time reservist for His Majesty's Space Marines. They wore the insignia of the planet Roseway, as that represented everything in the universe occupied by the various NationStates to the citizens of the Empire.

For now, they were on a routine mission to explore some of the major places of the Solar system, in preparation of whatever the Empire wanted to do with it. They had been assigned this mission by means of Guoli's great pull within the hierarchy of the Imperial military, and when they had recieved a wide-beam advertisement from one of the larger space powers of the system, who said quite plainly that they had placed a highly-armed station in the Solar system and then invited anyone interested to come and see it, their consensus was, why not? Since this station, if used in a manically suicidal way, could be conceivably used as a threat to Imperial ambitions in the system, it was next on the Greathammers' list.

Please be aware that at any time I may abandon this thread for spaces of time up to and beyond several weeks, and please don't take it personally. Also, does anyone mind my massive sentence in that last paragraph? I just looked at that and thought, whoah, that's big.

"Captain," Stockwell greeted Weslan, extending his right hand. "We are up against a dangerous man, and time is of the essence. We have already sent out a small, plain-clothes team to scope out the area and look for the criminal, but they are under orders not to engage until we can get there to back them up. Personally, I'd like to see what one of these plasma rifles will do to him, but we may not be that lucky."

*****

Two people walked into the Screaming Wookie. A man and a woman, they were made to look like a couple that was on vacation and enjoying themselves as anybody would expect. They didn't look like the detectives shown on TV. Instead of wearing a sportcoat and a pantsuit, they were dressed casually and didn't look like hardened cops that had seen images that would keep regular men awake at night. They talked quietly, jabbing at each other with lighthearted insults. They noticed a man behind the bar talking to a woman dressed to kill. Mark tried not to let his look linger too long, else his "girlfriend" would notice.

She grabbed a seat close to the door, and Mark walked over to the bartender. He sat down and placed a simple order-- two sodas and two hamburgers. He was going to ask the bartender if he'd seen the man from Warhaven, but he thought it would be too risky to ask a total stranger to help him. He took the sodas back to the table by the door and sat down next to his partner. He told her it would be a few minutes for the burgers and they started to watch the crowd walking outside, smiling and resting their heads together like any good couple would.

The Criminal known only as Rick walked into the screaming wookie. He paused for a minute in the doorway to see who was here.
"Ahh the usual sort of rabble. At least Higerian police aren't in here." He thought.
He walked over to the Bar and took a seat by a pretty woman engaged in conversation with the Barkeeper.
"He bar keeper, Could I gat a Vodka Martini, Shaken not stirred? They really are my favorite you know.

OOC: Did we really need the Bond reference?

IC:

"No problem. Gimme a sec."

A blur of motion, a few indistinct hand motions, and there's a freshly shaken martini on the counter.

"5 Florens, and have an nice day."

OOC: Yes, yes we did need the bond refrence. Actually I was just trying to think up an alcaholic drink and that was all that popped into mind.

*slids the 5 florens across the table with an extra 5 for a tip.*
Delicous.

OOC: You gave him a $15 tip?

OOC: What can I say, I'm generous. both in reality and on NS.

Shounin finished up his blood cleansing and unhooked the machine from his body. He took a few pills that came with the kit and swallowed them down with a glass of water. He walked back to the hatch of his ship, looked out the window, and stopped dead in his tracks. There were a few policemen outside, all armed, and some with some nasty looking weapons.

He tried to make out their markings, trying to figure out if it was anybody that may be after him. There were some things that all merchant ships did that were not always... legal, but most of those were victimless crimes like smuggling and the occasional arms trade.

Something with an 'H,' he saw. Hataria? No, H-I-G... Higera. Never heard of them. It didn't mean anything, Shounin knew, some countries hired others to take care of their dirty work, to keep things "off the books" in terms of human rights. He wasn't that afraid because it looked as if they were interested in a ship other than his. He decided to stay in his ship for awhile longer and wait them out.

Shounin, now satisfied with his first vice of the night, turned to one of the other reasons he made the stop. He interfaced his communications system with the station's and called up the directory of businesses available. He searched for the best looking "escort service" and placed a call.

The WIckian known by only a few people as Mark Villers finished his meal and his second Collostomizer. He was old by anyone’s standards yet due to the nature of his genetically altered body he seemed no more then Thirty.

His eyes scanned the room, his well trained eyes that allowed him to survive his many years...he noticed the odd mannerisms of the supposed couple eating the hamburgers. The male especially acted as if he was looking, examining everyone in the bar but at the same time acting covertly about it.

The same could be said for the most recent singleton to enter the bar...

Whatever was about to happen could not end well, and being caught in the middle of it would be unfortunate...he got up and left the bar.

Mark was taking a bite of his burger when he felt a tap on his leg from Liz. He moved his eyes to the door, still chewing on his food, and saw Rick.

That murdering son of a bitch, Mark thought, he walks in here like he's the salt of the earth... Mark moved his right hand into his pocket and pressed a button. It alerted the other officers that they spotted the man, and now they had his location, as long as the two trailed him.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, honey," Liz said, standing up. She made her way towards the back, passing Rick at the bar and looking him over. He didn't overtly carry any weapons, which meant nothing, as Liz looked like she wasn't packing heat either.

*****

One of the officer's communicators beeped. He checked it and reported. "Captain, we have a location on the criminal."

Stockwell turned from the ship manifest and thanked the officer. "We can pick him up as soon as we secure his ship. We don't want to give him any chances at escape."

The captain returned to the list, still waiting for the Klonor representative to verify the warrant. He noticed a ship parked close to them, and looked for it on the manifest. It was registered as a Crimson Sparta ship, which was of no consequence to his mission.

The club was starting to fill, and Joy sipped her drink as she watched the newcomers with a practiced eye. The woman was attractive, and the man wasn't half-bad either. The man and woman were obviously playing at being a couple...the intimacy was forced, and they both looked like they were here for a reason...and the reason WASN'T to make goo-goo eyes at each other. Everyone had secrets these days, including Joy.

The next one in was a man, a simple looking man who went directly to Ulong and ordered a Bond Martini, a classic throughout the galaxy. Immediately, Joy sensed a change in the atmosphere around her and she discovered that the man beside her seemed to be very interesting to the couple. The woman could not contain her excitement when she saw the new man, and thats what gave her away to Joy. She decided she would watch those three carefully.

The dangerous looking Wickian, Mr.Villars, was working on yet another of Ulongs Collostomizers when he suddenly got up, and left the bar. Joy tried to catch his eye on his way out, but he noticed nothing on his rush to leave. She was relieved in a way, as she wasn't sure why he had been here in the first place: Hunters don't hang out in bars.

She was pondering this when her communicator buzzed. Checking it, she saw that it was an in-station call. Looks like business would be good tonight. Not recognizing the number, she answered in a measured, sultry voice.

"Hi, this is Joy...how can I be of service?"

The Ruskkie Imperial Navy Æther Ship Stormwell slowed as it neared the Nirvana Space station. Its crew were edgerly awaiting some 'shore leave' and a few were waiting by the ship's airlock as the vessal docked. Amongst them were Crewman Gervase and Crewman 'Smudger', with them were a couple crates of the Ruskkie brew Sodka (seemingly illegal outside the Imperium of Ruskkia).

"Ya sure this gonna work boss? Vimes will find out! 'E always does!" Smudger said as the airlock.

"Turst me ya dumbass fricker, Commissar Vimes will be busy trying to catch crewmen in a bar brawl than watch over us. So me dumb and lemme do the talking, hopefully that scumbag trader Kapoor managed to get the paper work done fer us!"

Smudger didn't reply, he simply pushed the crates forward into the station's docking bay until a station officer stopped them. "Hold it! Where are you going with that?"

Gervase answered, showman style. "This, my good friend, is cargo we've delivered for a trader named Shoe Kapoor. He'll be picking these two crates up later. I'm sure that, lets say...50 Ruskkie pounds will cover any problems?"

"Hmm, the paper work checks out..."

"But?"

"I will have to caution you..." The officer dropped his voice to a whisper. "unless you could double?"

Gervase sighed and handed over the money.

The officer quickly took the money and hid it in his pocket. "Have a good day sir!"

Gervase mumbled something and walked off into the station, Smudger following with the crates.

Rick was feeling nervous all of a sudden. He didn't know what changed it, but, as he was looking around the bar, a couple he preveously did not notice were excited by his presence. They were trying to hid it, it was possible they had never seen an unassimilated Warhavenite since King Warfare assimilated his country when he turned BORG. Heck, the only reason he was unassimilated was because he was stealing a small fighter from the cockpits.
He snapped out of it. Reminescing was dangerous so soon after a Job. He decided to leave. He walked as calmly as he could back to the Five Mountains casino and lost himself in the perpetually large crowd of gamblers. He patted his hidden breast pocket reassuringly. He still had a couple of options left if it came down to it. He stopped at a slot machine, deposited a floren, and got 11 back. He smiled. He got a free drink and tip. and didn't even have to pay the Slot machine.

The connection was made, and Shounin heard a seductive, almost familiar voice. "Hello, I'm looking for a good time tonight, and you are reputed to be the best person to go to for action on the station," he started. "I'm looking for a slim, well-stacked female, preferably blonde. Is there any chance I can get a discount for two?"

Shounin saw that the policemen weren't paying that much attention to his ship and were instead standing around and staring at a large control panel with what looked like a list of sorts. He figured it would be ok to leave his ship again, to go and meet whoever he could get for the night.

Rick decided to start following the crowds wherever they went, after all, if police couldn't make his face out of the crowd, he wouldn't have to answer for the Robbery. The murder was just an extra bonus. The fact that it was a police oficer was the icing on the cake. even if it wasn't planned.

Joy frowned at her phone. She didn't like talking business on an open line, and the caller had a rough edge to his voice...probably a spacer or a soldier on leave. They had money, but for the most part, were uncouth and uncivilised. She decided that she would meet him first, then decide whether to carry on. She spoke quietly but firmly into the phone.

"I can tell you're new at this, sailor, so why don't you stop talking and listen just a little: come and buy me a drink, and we can discuss business. Meet me at the bar in the Wookie...I'll find you. You won't miss me."

Joy cut the connection before he could reply. She took her drink to a small alcove, hidden near the back of the bar, but with a clear view of the front door. She lit a twig, and sucked deeply on the mild narcotic, letting the smoke trickle from her nose. Usually, she wouldn't be so covert and suspicious, but there was something in the air tonight, and she had learned long ago to listen to her instincts.

OOC: I don't know guys, maybe you've got a different set of perceptions than me, but eating a hamburger regularly doesn't mean that anybody's getting excited. These people are trained professionals, and they don't get all giddy when the suspect comes into their view. Oh well.

IC: Damn, there he goes, Mark thought. Better not to follow, he looks like he's paranoid. He may know that we're here. He dug into his pocket and fished out a metal toothpick, brushing up against his communications device twice. He picked at his teeth a little and went back to his hamburger.

He looked at Liz, who had the same thoughts. "What do you want to do after we eat baby?"

She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but looked back at him in a reassuring way. "I don't know, maybe the casino? This place sure has a lot to do."

*****

One of the other Higeran officers was in the camera room with a station security officer. They had one of the cameras fixed on the Screaming Wookie since Mark and Liz made their sighting.

"There!"

Walking out of the restaurant was Rick, and he didn't look happy. A few seconds later, the officer's communicator beeped, revealing that the man who left was their suspect.

He called to Captain Stockwell, still in the docking bay waiting for his warrant to be approved. "Captain, we have him heading for the casino."

Rick decided to stop by his room in the casino and change his clothes. After he was done he looked for all the world like a tourist. Picking up a hat on his way out, he headed for the observation deck. he decided to see if his craft was still were he left it.

"But... but..." The line went dead and Shounin cursed.

The woman advertises this number as an escort service, you'd think the least she could do is get an encoded phone to hook it up to.

He decided to take a quick sonic shower and shave off his rugged beard. He wanted to make himself as appealing to the woman-- women?-- that he would be with tonight. A poor man that smells bad gets nowhere with a hooker after the first night. He was finished with his shower after a few minutes and got dressed.

He walked out of his ship dressed in a black button-down shirt and a pair of khaki pants. He didn't bother with any underwear-- one more thing that gets in the way while you're paying by the hour. He looked like a new man, very different from the guy that walked into the Screaming Wookie a few hours before.

I never wanted to go back into that place, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. He stepped off the plank and onto the deck of the giant ship once again. He looked over towards the Higeran police, still standing around and looking at... ship manifests, that's what was so interesting.

He walked along the corridors, looking at them and wondering how in the world he could get back to his ship without killing himself. He turned the last corner and walked into the Screaming Wookie. The place was busier than before; a couple in the front facing the door, and some more customers. He tried to hide his face from the bartender and hope that he was too busy to recognize this changed man. Plus, he was probably passed out somewhere in a holding cell, as far as Ulong and the others were concerned.

Shounin found Joy in a corner booth and sat down. "Hi, I called you before. I think we have some... business to conduct. Can I buy you a drink?"

He cleaned up well.

The spacer in front of Joy was the same one as earlier...now she recognized his voice. He had showered and shaved, and actually smelled clean. He wasn't bad looking at all, so she smiled and patted the chair next to her.

"You can buy me two...then we'll see how the night progresses. My name is Joy...but you know that already. I seem to remember your name was Cho?"

The man sat down across from her, his smile softening his hard features.

"Tell me about yourself: what brings you to the station?"

Rick made it to the Observation deck, and, was rather disapointed to find Higerian police swarming over the docking bays, he made his disapointment evident by letting loose an epithet that would have embarressed an honest man. since he was alone up there he decided to watch from the deck a little longer, to see what happened.

She recognized him. Damnit. Oh well, he thought. I tried. At least I look good.

He relaxed, knowing that since she didn't throw her drink into his face, he would probably walk off this station a little luckier than he'd been when he arrived. "I'm sorry about before, if I did anything to embarrass myself. I'll be sticking to water for the rest of the night. What can I get you?"

She told him her order and he brought back two of them. "Now, why am I here? I'm a merchant from New Sparta. We're located in the Pegasi System now, and I make one of the trading runs from there to Earth. I do pretty well, mostly things from one corporation to another, where they don't want to use their own commercial transports. I don't ask them about their cargo, and they don't tell me. But they do pay me well."

It was good to talk to somebody, finally. After being on the job for a while now, Shounin was getting pretty lonely. He was happy to talk to Joy, even if she was just listening to him to get into his wallet. It was good enough for him that he was listening.

"I heard an advertisement for this station while I was on my way out of the system. I figured I hadn't had a break for some time, so I turned around and came here. It's rough being out there all alone, and I like to get the person-to-person contact whenever I can get it."

Another spacer. A pseudo-privateer as well. Excellent, she thought.

Joy accepted her glass from Cho, though her original was still full. Allanean martini's were a godmod of a drink, never emptying no matter how much you drank from it. She hoped the spacer would have an easier time with this than with the Collostomizer. She sipped her drink, and stared at Cho with eyes that were filled with mysterious promise.

"So, you never peek at what you may be carrying in the hold? Never?? Hmmm, you strike me as a man that would be naturally curious about something like that..."

She smiled, her upper lip sliding across her perfect teeth.

"I love curious men..."

Stockwell's communicator chirped again, and a message came from the officer in the camera room. "Captain, he's on the move again. It looks like he's headed for the docking bay... no, one level up- the observation bay."

"Thank you Jack, we'll take it from here."

*****

Mike and Liz were finished with their food, so they decided to take a walk. Liz appeared as if she got a call on her personal communicator (a Blackberry sort of device) and stepped outside. Mark stayed behind and paid the bill, leaving a good tip, hoping that after catching the suspect the captain would allow them to have some leave on the station. If so, he'd be coming back for another burger or two, and wanted good service if he did.

Mike walked out and joined Liz who was now off the phone. She kissed him on the cheek and they started to walk. "He's on his way to his ship. We think he may be on to us."

*****

"What a profane man," the officer in the communications room said.

"You can read lips?" the station security man asked.

"Yeah, I learned it from watching TV late at night when I was supposed to be in bed. I kept it on mute so my parents wouldn't know, and I just picked it up from there."

*****

"Alright guys, stay calm," Stockwell ordered, "and don't do anything that'll make him notice. We'll just take a look at that Crimson Sparta ship for right now, check the hull and that sort of thing. He's going to be above us in a few seconds."

*****

Rick was leaning over the balcony, watching the Higeran policemen search the Crimson Sparta ship. Mark and Liz caught up to him, and they were assisted by two large men carrying plasma guns. They all had their weapons drawn and were making their way to flank him, the two detectives standing in the middle.

"Don't turn around. We have you surrounded and will fire if you make any sudden movements."


(plasma gun)

He sat back, thinking of a time when he was fresh out of the Stellar Corps. "You know, they say that curiosity killed the cat, and it almost got me. I was flying my first cargo ever between New Sparta and Earth, after I got booted out of the military. I had a pretty rough time after that, but these nice guys were willing to give me a job, no questions asked."

He looked up, trying to remember the parts of his life he'd tried to repress. "They had a shipment made out to a company- it was a dummy company of a major arms dealer, which I didn't find out until much much later. Anyways, they gave me a bunch of cargo; filled my ship up with the stuff. I was curious and all, so I decided to take a look at what they'd given me.

"I pried open one of the containers and took out one of the boxes. It had something written on it, but I didn't understand, some kind of chemistry that was out of my league. Turns out, I was shipping a severe biological agent that the company was planning on selling to somebody or another." He felt the few pockmarks on his face and remembered what the virus had done to him. "I vented the compartment, almost killing myself in the process- man, that'll take the air right out of your lungs- and managed to get to the escape hatch on the ship. It started its automated distress signal and I passed out."

He sat up and looked Joy right in the eyes. He wasn't trying to get any sympathy out of her, but it felt good to tell it to her. Something about her soothed him from his pains, something all the alcohol in the galaxy couldn't do.

"The next thing I know, I wake up in the orbital station over New Sparta. They impounded my ship and sent it straight for Pegasi- the sun- after they found out what was on it. It took me weeks to walk again, and the doctors said some of my nervous system is shot. I did my best and worked my hardest to get myself back up and about, and then I got slammed again. The company billed me for their lost stuff and the antidote for the agent. And with my hospital bills, I ended up in a debtor's mine working off my obligations to everyone. I don't know why I got back on another transport ship, but I needed to earn my money somehow, and the mines weren't cutting it. Ever since then, I've left alone the cargo, and it's done me the same favor."

He sat back again and took a sip of his water. "And that is why I stopped asking questions and stopped being curious. And now I've gotten this far, sitting in a dark booth with a pretty lady. It seems like I have done well after all," he said smiling.

Joy smiled back, allowing him the illusion that she was interested...and she was, but not in his words or story. She was interested in HIM. She had heard similar tales many times, and they all led to one place...Joy's loving arms.

"So...no wife or girlfriend waiting for her hero to return? That IS sad, a rugged man like yourself..." Joy reached out a slender hand, and took his strong, scarred one in hers. She leaned over, her face a few inches from his, her scent washing over him, her breath on his cheek. She whispered in a husky voice.

"You must be very lonely..."

Rick was caught and he knew it, he really didn't want to do it, but there was only one way out. he slowly reached for a small phaser pistol he had hidden in the breast pocket of his jacket. he slowly reached for it with out turning around, and took it out. he turned it around and pointed it straight at the couple.

Just how did you figure out it was me, I left no evidence behind?

Somewhere on the station, Gama felt a snap.

He stopped, motioned, and crouched, his father crouching behind him. They both had their pistols out and were looking around, but nothing seemed to be threatening. Slowly moving his hand, he drew a dagger from a hidden sheath in his tunic. It glowed bright blue...

"Oh. Hehe." He slid the dagger back.

Guoli grinned. "What was it?"

"My senzer snapped. Probably an arrest going on somewhere on board."

The two Orcs got up and continued down the corridor, scanning the walls for any sign of their meeting-place.

They turned a corner and bumped right into a very large man with a plasma rifle.

He felt the warmth of her hand press up against his, and was more comfortable now than he had ever been in his life. The back of his mind was telling him that she was interested in anything but his money. He couldn't help himself though, because it was better than talking mindlessly into his ship's log and transmitting them out to whoever would listen to them.

"Lonely, man, I've been trying to keep myself from calling myself that. But it's true. No wife, no kids, just me and my booze," he paused. "Only the few women like you that I meet when I can find time to stop at these mega-stations."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "So why do you do... what you do?"

Rick was caught and he knew it, he really didn't want to do it, but there was only one way out. he slowly reached for a small phaser pistol he had hidden in the breast pocket of his jacket. he slowly reached for it with out turning around, and took it out. he turned it around and pointed it straight at the couple.

Just how did you figure out it was me, I left no evidence behind?

OOC: Do you really want to have one man with a pistol turn around to face four armed people? You realize he wouldn't even make it in time to aim at the couple (how can you aim at two people, by the way?), let alone have enough time to ask the question.

"Lonely, man, I've been trying to keep myself from calling myself that. But it's true. No wife, no kids, just me and my booze," he paused. "Only the few women like you that I meet when I can find time to stop at these mega-stations."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "So why do you do... what you do?"

"Trust me, you've never met anyone like me before." Joy smiled again, her confidence exuding from her. She was a bringer of pleasure, but she was also so much more. She sipped her drink before replying to Cho's last question.

"Hmmm, I think you KNOW what I do well enough, no? As for why I do it...lets just say that the pay is good, the conditions are great and I get to meet interesting people such as yourself."

Her hand played idly with the pearls that hung from her neck, her fingers brushing the tops of her breasts, knowing full well that the spacer's eyes would be drawn there.

"So, are you expected anywhere anytime soon, or will I be blessed with your presence a little longer?"

OOC: yes I do, this is suppossed to be one of those climactic moments when the bad guy quizzes the good guys and truths are revealed. I had this part figured out for quite awhile.

OOC: This is space opera. Things don't work here like they do in the real world.

Mike smiled and pointed up at the camera that was right above them. When Rick looked up, Mike said "You're on candid camera!" and shot at his pistol-holding arm three times. Liz and the two other cops were eager to open fire as well, but they were willing to take the suspect in alive.

(OOC: That means that they would fill Rick with bullets otherwise, but in the interests of having him surrender and be questioned he's been spared.)

Rick could no longer do anything. with his other hand he reached into his pocket and took out a small orange pill and swallowed it. He would die in 72 hours. He then went with the police quetly.

The two officers carrying plasma rifles eased them up a bit as Rick surrendered. Mark took a different look at the situation as the criminal was lifted to his feet. There were enough Higeran officers on the observation deck now...

"Pick him up," Mark ordered. The officers looked at him strangely and he repeated himself. "Pick him up. You, grab his feet, you grab his arms.

The policemen did what the detective told them to do and hoisted Rick up.

"Move him over there."

The officers moved Rick towards the banister overlooking the main docking area. Mark simply nodded at them, as they knew what he was going for.

They threw Rick over the banister and down to the deck below. He fell with a loud thud, the sound of a body hitting carpeted metal at about 10 m/s. There was nobody around at the time, but a crowd soon formed a 3 meter diameter ring around Rick, staring at him, and periodically looking up at the Higeran police.

A few seconds later, the policemen in the docking area pushed their way through the crowd and got to Rick. He was still laying there, apparently unable to move. They grabbed him and took him into the docking bay.

"Kill a cop, huh?" one of them said. "We'll show you what cop killers are good for."

The Higeran ship was docked at port 4, where an airlock was established between the larger ship and the smaller one. The Higeran ship moved back two meters, allowing for a gap between the outer doors and the ship. The cops put Rick in the airlock, closed the inner door, and counted backwards from ten, yelling at the writhing body in the airlock. Zero was announced, and Captain Stockwell pressed the release button. Rick's body was sucked out of the airlock with enough force to throw him against the hull of the Higeran ship. His body moved slowly around the bottom of the ship, floating away into space as the ship redocked and attained airlock stability with the Nirvana.

"Good job boys," Stockwell said. "Let me buy you all a drink!"

Three heavy assault shuttles and a pair of Loch-Lear Scrambler interceptors, all sporting bright green nose flares and stripes down the side, screamed out of the Sol rift and toward the station. The point and rear-guard shuttles were comprised of soldiers quite eager to go on military leave, and after eight days in wormholes they were all the more eager to get out of the confines of the shuttle. The center shuttle had a sole occupant, who preferred to fly his own shuttle: Chief Director Josef Hanson, Executive of The Green Lion.

"S-1 to S-2, anything got Alpha locked?"
"Neg, S-1, no scanners aside from standard docks."
"S-1 to transports, check in." Josef smiled. Belize Aaarkanon was the pilot of Scrambler-1 and one of the most efficient pilots in his fleet - though somewhat brain-dead in large-ship combat tactics and interactions with people - and was the supposed leader of this squad, escorting three transports full of soldiers. Josef's transport, though, was full of supplies, guised as the refuel shuttle... nobody would suspect the Director of TGL would fly so many thousands of light years from his home. But everyone needed some time off... right? And besides, it would be good for relations, The Green Lion's border colony status meant there was precious little interaction between TGL and the more coreward states.
"Shuttle Alpha checking in, everyone's awake and ready to have a good time."
"Shuttle Beta reporting, cargo secure." Covert and out-of-the-way was key... being out of contact meant you didn't know who hated you and why.
"Shuttle Gamma here. My C.O.'s giving me the evil eye, maybe we should pick up the pace a bit."
"Gamma, if you tried to fly that bucket of rust any faster, it would fall apart."

The comm crackled as S-1 opened a systemwide channel. "Ahoy Arcadia Installation! This is The Green Lion Scrambler Zero One requesting clearance to dock and offload passengers. Fleet consists of two Scramblers and a trio of dirt cans. Got room?"

[Encoded transmission to Arcadia Installation Command]
[Origin: Rear Admiral Joshua Carmichael Ancroft, Commander, Bulk Cruiser Cordelia, The Green Lion Fleet 4]

"This is Rear Admiral Joshua C. Ancroft, Commander of the GLCr Cordelia, to Station Master. My cruiser is stationed outside Sol, sixteen light-minutes away along a wormhole route. I'll get right to the point; there are two important matters of business I wish to discuss with you:

First, and foremost, a diplomatic slash recreational detachment should be arriving in-system momentarily. Among that detachment is an ambassador of The Green Lion on shore leave. See to it that he is protected from any lowlifes and The Green Lion will show our thanks... if harm comes to him, it too shall be revisited. This is by no means a threat, but a gesture of trust.

Second, in a gesture of that faith in your security forces, GL Ops has compiled a list of known smugglers and thieves who have hampered trade between The Green Lion and her sister colony, Omega Destiny. The detachment already has reports of at least two known pirate ships docked on your station; detailed specifications of the ships, known crew, and crimes against the Edge Territories have been forwarded in the data section of this transmission. I request with all my goodwill that you either deal with the pirates yourselves or allow The Green Lion to deal with the pirates for you. They will do no good on your station, as the very least of them are murderers.

Rear Admiral Ancroft signing off. Respond when able."

Joy was still speaking with Cho when her communicator vibrated. Smiling at the spacer, she excused herself to take the call. It was from her friend Justin, who worked in the command center of the space station as a minor radio technician. He often provided Joy with valuable information, in exchange for...favors. She listened carefully, smiling at the news.

"So...an Ambassador is coming to visit us, huh? Good...then this evening won't be a complete waste. Let me know when they dock, and try and get me a name, ok sweetie? You ARE a doll...kiss-kiss!" She broke the connection, thinking quickly. Dumping the spacer Cho would be no problem...he was depressing her anyways. Checking herself in the mirror behind the bar, she saw that she still looked stunning, and that her make-up was perfect.

She walked back to Cho, an apologetic tone in her voice.

"I'm sorry...I completely forgot that I had another appointment tonight. If you are still around tomorrow, give me a call." she slid her personal card across the table to him, then turned and walked back to the bar. She had never heard of a nation called the Green Lion, but that was not surprising: there were new nations being born every day.

Either way, she was sure the Ambassador would be very forthcoming with details on his nation. They always were...

OOC: This could be interesting, considering she has no way of knowing which of the twenty or so men and women in the convoy is the ambassador. One of the passengers of the first shuttle I guess, there's no way Hanson would come that close to naming himself a politician so early.

IC: The small shuttle docking bay was not designed to hold this many ships, but so many skirmishes against pirates had made The Green Lion's defense fighters very good pilots. Setting down within meters of one another, the bay was soon filled with door and cockpit actuator whines. Josef stepped out of his shuttle, ducking his head to avoid bumping it on the low-hanging entryway, and joined the growing crowd of his comrades. A deep breath cleared the shuttle's canned air from his system and the light fragrance of the docking bay gave him an excuse for a smile. He gave no words of command... Belize had that covered, and if a political figure was needed, Farl Langley knew more about The Green Lion than anyone not specially briefed. The two Spec Ops hunters who were on the mission solely to protect Josef did not acknowledge him either, no more so than they did the other two shuttle pilots; they also knew much better. He cast a slightly worried glance at the rest of the detachment, regular soldiers whose only security briefing was "Don't tell anyone."

Langley stiffened slightly and squinted at the door. His aural implants had registered some sound outside the bay door, forty or so feet away. The detachment begain miling about in the general direction of the door, the two Spec Ops breaking off and chatting with others - something they had to almost go through neural reconstruction to be able to do.

The bay door hissed and shot upward. Two of the soldiers went for their nonexistent guns. Josef smiled again when he saw what had startled them so; just a woman standing in the large doorway, smiling cheerfully.

OOC: Crap, GTG to work, back later!

OOC: Bump. If I knew this lady's personality and intentions, I'd be better able to roleplay her responses to things. Otherwise I'll just focus on the rest of the stay... which may not be as long as I'd hoped, due to a conflict in the Sol system that just might get me involved....

<<OOC: Well, she's still sitting in the bar, and her intentions are...her own.>>

"Wait," Shounin insisted. "We still have yet to come to a deal. I'm looking for a blonde and a brunette, and I assume you've got other girls working on the station. What kind of business are you running, dropping customers left and right for somebody else? What's going on here??"

<<OOC: Well, she's still sitting in the bar, and her intentions are...her own.>>
OOC: Okay. Just gonna work this little scuffle into the theme, if nobody minds: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=360889&page=1&pp=15

IC:

Inside just another quad-flat hotel room in the Drifting Star plaza
"Captain? Please bring me my wine," Josef Hanson said casually to the man standing next to him. The man was neither a captain nor a winebearer, but he knew his duty. Gene therapy forced him to remember, and if Josef was opposed to it at first, having guards this loyal was definitely a plus in a place like this. The man nodded, turned casually - well trained in that he was as well - and strode calmly toward the door. Josef could barely make out the two brown blotches at the base of the man's skull.*

He settled into the moderately comfortable recliner and flipped on the news.

"...as Federal Union warships continue their standoff against Solarais, a nation that has had the Federal Union under an embargo for some time..."

The voice was female, pleasant. Josef closed his eyes, and the torture of his place of power began to slowly drain away, if only temporarily. Killers, psychos, shipthieves, and common adulterers, he had seen them all. Individually, once, when he was a mere circuit judge, but even watching them die on live holovid was painful to think about.

"...shots were fired at unknown craft earlier today. It is not yet known whether these were civilian craft or something more...

He blinked. Ancroft and his Cordelia up to their old games? That man had an insectoid up his rectum that wouldn't come out unless he was completely in control. Every once in a while, you had to let go....

"...fate of Arcadia Installation as yet unknown-"

He flipped off the holobroadcast. A slight whine let him know his neighbor's door was opening. Probably Farl out looking for a drink and some tips on cheap supplies. Military though he was, the smuggler would never fully leave the man.

Josef decided he could use some time alone, too, even more alone than in here. Never more alone than when you're in a crowd.... One of the nameless guards would tag along, for sure, but would certainly know better than to interrupt diplomatic - and social - relations unless it was absolutely necessary.

* - In order to get clearance as a SecOp 1, a SecOp must volunteer to have ocular implants in the base of his skull... quite literally, eyes in the back of his head.

"Wait," Shounin insisted. "We still have yet to come to a deal. I'm looking for a blonde and a brunette, and I assume you've got other girls working on the station. What kind of business are you running, dropping customers left and right for somebody else? What's going on here??"

Joy turned back to the spacer, her eyes suddenly filled with darkness and danger. She seemed to grow in stature, and an aura of menace hung around her. She spoke quietly, and pointedly at Cho.

"It will be better if you find your entertainment elsewhere tonight, meat." She smiled, but not in a good way. As her lips peeled back, Cho saw two fangs extending down, glistening with saliva.

"You may not realize it, but you just got lucky. Now...go get lucky again." Joy tossed a business card of a massage parlor elsewhere on the station. She turned her back on him, and sauntered back to the bar.

The war brewing in the galaxy around him should have affected Farl in some way, but he knew that if one of the lumbering warships chose the station as a target, his fate would be out of his control anyway. He pushed the holonews broadcasts of flickering turbolasers out of his head and continued down to the Darkstar, one of the not-so-reputable cantinas in the area. It was packed, crowded by spacers who couldn't afford the more expensive berths, and had docked whatever rusty tubs they had managed to scrap together onto the zenith and nadir docking pylons of the station. Many were unshaven, and all the men at each table looked fiercely amongst themselves in their conversations, forcefully paying no attention to any other table but theirs.

The bar, however, was nearly bare. Farl took a seat halfway between the front and back of the cantina, dropping two dozen bits on the bar and calling for something "tart, but not hot enough to burn".

He glanced at the table to his immediate right, then glanced back as quickly. He had trained himself to pick out a voice in a crowd, and these men were dealing in substances that would make a nobleman cringe. The table to his right was a black market arms dealer, it seemed... Lars listened for any trace of Green Lion weaponry. No dice, though, this dealer was trading in Klonorian fighter schematics. Stupid, considering this was a Klonor-owned station, but there was money to be made with schematics, and his buyers were definitely interested.

He turned back to the bar. The bartender had brought his malt rubiken. The large man was glancing warily at the arms dealer... Farl guessed the men had been here before and caused some trouble. A call to the Klonor security would solve that right quick, but the bartender hadn't for some reason... maybe he had something to hide himself. Farl shook himself away from his conspiracy theories, and turned back to his drink.

There was nothing to find here, these men had already found their cliques and niches. He chugged the last of his drink - watered down, he thought as he picked six bits back off the bar - and re-entered the main halls of the station.

The Hyperspace was much more well-lit and seemed a respectable place; they actually had cushions on their seats. He sat in one of the empty booths and ordered another malt. This one was not watered down.

The two officers carrying plasma rifles eased them up a bit as Rick surrendered. Mark took a different look at the situation as the criminal was lifted to his feet. There were enough Higeran officers on the observation deck now...

"Pick him up," Mark ordered. The officers looked at him strangely and he repeated himself. "Pick him up. You, grab his feet, you grab his arms.

The policemen did what the detective told them to do and hoisted Rick up.

"Move him over there."

The officers moved Rick towards the banister overlooking the main docking area. Mark simply nodded at them, as they knew what he was going for.

They threw Rick over the banister and down to the deck below. He fell with a loud thud, the sound of a body hitting carpeted metal at about 10 m/s. There was nobody around at the time, but a crowd soon formed a 3 meter diameter ring around Rick, staring at him, and periodically looking up at the Higeran police.

A few seconds later, the policemen in the docking area pushed their way through the crowd and got to Rick. He was still laying there, apparently unable to move. They grabbed him and took him into the docking bay.

"Kill a cop, huh?" one of them said. "We'll show you what cop killers are good for."

The Higeran ship was docked at port 4, where an airlock was established between the larger ship and the smaller one. The Higeran ship moved back two meters, allowing for a gap between the outer doors and the ship. The cops put Rick in the airlock, closed the inner door, and counted backwards from ten, yelling at the writhing body in the airlock. Zero was announced, and Captain Stockwell pressed the release button. Rick's body was sucked out of the airlock with enough force to throw him against the hull of the Higeran ship. His body moved slowly around the bottom of the ship, floating away into space as the ship redocked and attained airlock stability with the Nirvana.

"Good job boys," Stockwell said. "Let me buy you all a drink!"

OOC: Well, that was certainly one way to deal with it.

IC: Rick felt himself die, which was a truly disturbing experience for someone unprepared for death. All of a sudden he was flying down a long gray coridor. A hideous gray creature flies up to meet him
"Wow, a demon," Thought Rick.
"HeeHeeHee, Another Soul to feed the Fires of Hell." The demon laughed.
"NOOOOOO" Screamed Rick.

And there Rick burns, Forever, and ever.

The cops spread throughout the station, but Captain Stockwell and his detectives, as well as some of the more heavily armed guards made their way to the Screaming Wookie. Mark and Liz had some objections, in case some of the other patrons were still hanging around, but they assumed that they wouldn't be back to the station again so they could take the risk.

Stockwell went to the bar when the other men grabbed a few tables. One of the rookies went with him to help bring back the orders. "A few pitchers of some good Klonor beer, please," Stockwell ordered.

"Captain, we're not supposed to drink while we're on duty," the rookie reminded him. "Especially in uniform."

"Fine Stephens, you're fired ," he returned calmly.

Although he was one of the newer men to the force, he knew the captain didn't mean what he said, but Stephens decided not to bring up the matter again.

Joy waited impatiently at the bar, hoping that her contact in the space-station comm room would contact her soon. She needed to get the name of the Green Lion Ambassador, as well as his itinerary. She had to find a way to meet him, accidently or otherwise. Politicians were her favorite meat.

She looked up as a group entered the Wookie, the couple from before with them. Though they were dressed in civilian clothes, Joy could smell a cop a mile away...in her line of work, she had to. Her phone chirped, and she answered quickly. It was Justin, her contact.

"Hiya babe...listen, they ain't releasing the ship list top me, so I ain't got a name for you...but, security cameras picked up some folks leaving the Green Lion ship...they stopped at the Darkstar, and then two of them entered the Hyperspace. Hope that helps...?"

"Shit. Keep trying to get that list, and let me know if they leave the Hyperspace, ok?" She broke the connection, putting her phone back in her purse. If the the Green Lion boys were bar-hopping, they would eventually make it here...they always did. If they didn't show here, she could always find them. She ordered another Allanean martini, and watched the group of newcomers as they settled in.

Shounin watched as the policemen walked in, remembering seeing some of them out of the porthole of his ship, and now wondering why they were here. He was relieved to see them order drinks and sit down far away from him.

He sat back and drank his water, watching the crowd gather.

She was frustrated, and beginning to hunger. Cho the spacer was still there, but he had a cagey look about him, probably because he discovered that Joy was much more than she seemed, and because he was surrounded by cops. She knew that she could return to his side, and easily convince him that she was his one true love, but now that her appetite had been tickled by the concept of Ambassador-meat, taking Cho would be like settling for a hamburger. Still, food was food. She sipped her drink, considering her options.

Now that he found himself date-less and uncomfortable in the room, Shounin went crawling back to the one thing that never rejected him.

"One Collostomizer, please," he ordered to the bartender.

Cho got what he ordered and sat back down at his seat in the back corner. He watched the policemen and others chat, sipping at his drink. It was stronger this time, he thought, which would only lead to drunkenness sooner than the last time.

Stockwell was laughing it up with his buddies when he noticed a rugged, but cleaned-up man walk up to the bar and order a strange drink. Stockwell watched as the bartender donned gloves and made the drink, pouring some well-known substances into it along with a few he'd never seen before.

As the man walked back to his seat, Stockwell observed aloud, "Man, that looks like one strong drink. And he's drinking it all alone." His voice lowered a few levels, and soon the whole table was laughing at something that had to do with the mysterious man.

When she hungered, she angered. Though Cho was only her back-up meat, he was still HER meat, if she so desired. Her enanced senses picked up that laughter and derisive comments coming from the table where the cops were sitting, aimed at Cho. Joy restrained her growing anger, knowing that it was the hunger that was driving her dark thoughts. Still, one way to shut up bullies was to make them jealous. Failing that, she could always kill them all.

She strode over to where Cho sat, sipping his second Collostomizer. She walked knowing that every male eye at the cop table was watching her, and the female one as well. She smiled at them boldly, putting her very feminine form on display for them. Arriving beside the slightly-surprised spacer, she reached down and grabbed him by the neck, pulling his head back and crushing her mouth to his in a deeply passionate embrace. She held the kiss, bent over, her ample cleavage spilling from her low-cut dress. Finally, she broke the kiss and looked into Cho's eyes. Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the table full of police, Joy growled huskily.

"Darling, I'm so glad that you came...finally, a REAL man I can talk to."

Cho was taken aback by the kiss, but he didn't fight it. Her lips were wonderful, something he had not felt in a long time. He wondered why Joy was doing this after she turned him down and drove him back to his slow alcohol-driven death. Cho realized that Joy was sitting at the bar and probably overheard the last thing the Higeran cops had said.

He pulled back, the alcohol taking over his senses and driving the feelings inside him. "You heard what they said, didn't you? Those bastard pigs!"

His anger and resentment drove her own. Playing with a lock of his dark hair, Joy looked over at the police who were by now, staring unabashedly at Joy's very exposed chest. She whispered down at him, never releasing her dark gaze on the others.

"Yes, my sweet...I heard their words. Relax yourself...they are nothing, and have nothing. You are everything, and have ME." It would do no good to let Cho lose himself in his anger...a public confrontation would serve no ones purpose, and just bring in a very high station-security response. No, Cho needed to be reigned in, not an easy task considering he was working on his second Collostomizer. She caressed his neck, forcing calming endorphins into him. Staring at the man who was the obviously the leader of the group, she vowed silently to herself.

"You will be the first to die..."

The alcohol had affected Cho too deeply for him to be a rational person any longer. He wanted nothing to do with Joy anymore, only to defend his honor, the one thing he had fought so hard to restore after his accident. Death was preferred to dishonor...

"Joy, you have a gun. Give it to me."

The Collostomizer was kicking in, and the spacer's words were becoming slurred, and his drunken rage began to bubble up within him. Joy kept her hand on his shoulder, feeling him strain to get up, but held down firmly by her superior strength. Giving him her gun, or any weapon at all, would be a mistake...having this whole bunch in the station prison would not make for an easy meal. She continued to caress Cho's neck and temple, her touch calming him. She whispered huskily in his ear.

"Not yet, my love, but soon...I promise they will suffer. For now, lets make them jealous..."

Joy reached down and pulled Cho to her, crushing him in her arms in a passionate embrace. She took his hand and guided it to her breast, in full view of the table full of cops. She watched them from the corner of her eye, deciding which ones looked tastiest. She would feast tonight, gorging herself on the life-blood of these little fools.

"I... said... no!" Cho bursted as he used all his drunken strength to push Joy away from him. It was not the time for making people jealous, it was the time for a good old-fashonied bar fight. "You had your chance before, and you blew it," he told Joy, turning and swaggering over towards the crowded police table.

"You, jackass," Cho yelled as he walked to the table. The captain looked at him. "Yeah, you. What's this you're saying about me now? Oh, I'm being loud, am I? WELL HOW ABOUT THIS!!!" His yelling drew the attention of everybody at the bar.

He swayed back and forth, pointing at the captain repeatedly while trying to maintain his balance. "You and me, outside, right now."

Stockwell stood up, obliging to the man's request. He was nothing but a drunk, and this wouldn't take long at all. He nodded to his other men and went outside.

The man was having a hard time making it out of the bar, and Stockwell knew it wouldn't be long before this man was lying face down on the deck.

"Make it quick," he told the man. "My beer's getting warm."

The others stood and looked out the windows, their hands hovering over their sidearms.

She shook her head, the thought of an easy meal slipping away from her, soon to be sitting in a cell. Shrugging in resignation, she looked at the table full of police, all nervously looking out the door. None of them looked particularly tasty, but she noticed that one of the younger ones had become very interested by her ample bosom. She stood up a little straighter, and gave him a long look, filled with potential promise.

(OOC: I hope you don't mind me RPing most of the fight)

IC: The police captain was right in his assumption. Cho went swinging at the man as soon as they exited, but he lost his balance and fell to the floor with a loud thud of a head hitting cold hard metal. He looked up in his drunken stupor to see two images of his opponent circling above him. He heard laughing, which only furthered his rage. Cho wiped the blood from his forehead and charged at Stockwell again, this time running right into his waiting arms. Cho was on the floor again.

He knew there was only one way to get at the captain, and that was for him to start shooting. Since Joy was noncooperative and didn't release her weapon to him, Cho had to get the captain's sidearm, affixed to his belt.

"What's the matter, you don't want to fight up close?" he mocked the officer.

"No," Stockwell replied, "You're not giving me much of a chance."

Cho was livid and seething rage, feeling his face heat up as blood rushed to his cheeks. He rushed the captain as best he could. Thinking he was moving in a straight line, Cho was actually moving at a regular pace and wobbling back and forth on his feet. He managed to get the gun from the Higeran officer, and knew his revenge would be exacted. He fired off the entire magazine, reveling in the fact that the next thing he would see was the dead Higeran cop. He opened his eyes and looked to the ground...

...and only saw feet. Cho's eyes made their ways up the captain's body, still standing and still intact. Every bullet had missed, thanks to those damn drinks the bartender sold. He suddenly turned very afraid, and stood there, shaking, pistol still in hand.

(OOC: Your move Higera. Go ahead and kill him off)

Villers need no more information, he could tell from his hidden observation point in the corridor outside the bar that his suspicions were confirmed. The tart was a in reality a demon, one of the bloodsuckers used by the Overlords against his people for so long. Was she one of their demons, did she know where her masters fled too, or was she merely one of their hellish offspring long since separated from the herd.

It mattered not he must kill her this night, and he would as soon as she exited the bar.

OOC: Didnt think i was gone for good eh? Or made that speech for nothing...

... and Cho was shot by three rounds of plasma bursts.

During the fight, the officers left the bar, drawing their weapons and aiming them at the drunken sailor. The ones with plasma rifles took note of Cho's inability to sink a single round into their captain, and decided to show him what a real execution looked like from a first-person perspective.

Now dead on the ground, the officers had another body to deal with. This one was not like the other criminal they'd brought to justice-- they held no grudge towards him and he may have had a family to contact.

"Good job again, guys," Stockwell observed. "Well, we've got to inform this one's government, have them come by and pick him and his ship up. Until then, Mark and Liz, take two officers and see if he's got anything of use to us in his cargo hold."

"Yes sir," Mark replied. "Liz and I already ate anyway."

Captain Tsushima was having a boring week. Her battleship, the Kongo, was on routine patrols of the military convoy line that occasionally made its way into Sol. She was commanding the task force closest to the Nirvana, and it had popped up on her sensors once or twice, if she was scanning the area. She's wondered what it was like there, people having a good time relaxing and shopping, their lives worry free while they were onboard a Klonori ship.

"Captain, incoming message from a source on the Nirvana, the communications officer informed her.

"Put it on my viewscreen."

To whom it may concern:

A citizen of Crimson Sparta was recently shot and killed by Higeran space police forces while attempting to do great harm to one of its officers. There was an altercation at a bar between one Chojiro Shounin and one Hunt Stockwell, Captain, Higeran Space Police. Mr. Shounin became hostile with the captain, and without provocation asked him to step outside for a few words. The man, after having what witnesses claim to be "at least seven (7) drinks," was heavily imbibed and had trouble standing up.

Once outside, Mr. Shounin charged Captain Stockwell, making a mockery out of himself as the bar patrons looked on. He managed to get control of Stockwell's sidearm and fired the entire magazine, not hitting one person. He was then killed on the spot by two Higeran officers that had come to their captain's help. The station's medical bay made no attempts to revive him, as it was clear from the three distinct plasma bursts that Mr. Shounin was dead.

If he has any family, we would like to notify them. Mr. Shounin left behind one (1) ship in the docking bay, where his body now rests in stasis. We would usually impound any items, but this man is not in our jurisdiction and we would like to give his items back to his family if possible. We will remain on the station for a while longer, awaiting the arrival of somebody to claim him and his belongings.

With sincerity and apologies,

(Higeran police command)

Tsushima finished reading and thought to herself for a moment. The Nirvana would be a good place to get some "official business" done, and she could give her crew a little respite from the drudgery that this back-and-forth post along a line was.


"Set a course for the Nirvana Station in Sol," she ordered the navigator. "We have some business there with a dead merchant. Senior officers report to the conference room."

"Comm, send the following reply to the Higeran police on the Nirvana:"

This is Captain Hoshi Tsushima of the Spartan Stellar Corps ship Kongo. We are on our way to the Nirvana station to claim our citizen and his belongings. Expect our arrival soon.

End message.

Official Communiqué
http://plaza.ufl.edu/bcav/Online/stellarcorps.jpg
Spartan Stellar Corps

The battleship arrived at the Nirvana's coordinated, and Captain Tsushima ordered the ship to stand four kilometers off the starboard bow of the installation. They would use shuttles to transport back and forth from the ship instead of docking and taking up a large port.

The shuttles docked in the same bay as Cho's ship. Captain Tsushima stepped out of the airlock first. Dressed in her black uniform with red command collar, she was soon accompanied by a complement of Crimson Guardsmen, dressed in their crimson and black body armor, weapons at their sides. Behind them were some other staff officers of the Kingo who were to pilot the dead merchant's ship back to theirs.

They spoke with one of the station attendants, getting the location of the ship. They went to it, and found two men that they suspected were Higeran police officers. They looked like cops, and they carried weapons like officers.

The female captain approached them. "Hello. I'm Captain Tsushima of the Spartan Stellar Corps. I and my men here are under orders to retrieve Chojiro Shounin's merchant vessel and its belongings."

One of the officers stepped forward, slinging his plasma rifle over his shoulder. "Greetings. We have two detectives searching the ship now, as we have probable cause to think that this spaceman is carrying dangerous cargo. We also needed to put the body back, so things just worked out that way."

Liz looked through the porthole and noticed the female captain and soldiers behind her. She tapped her communications badge and called to Captain Stockwell, informing him that he had better come down to meet the Crimson Spartans. She then got Mike, and told him that their time in the ship was over. They had taken a few data rods containing navigational charts and a list of the people Cho had worked with.

They walked to the hatch of the ship and opened it, standing in the doorway. "Hello captain," Liz said, smiling and trying to be courteous. "I'm Liz, and this is my partner Mike. We're detectives with the Higeran Space Enforcement Team, and we were just checking to see if your spaceman had any other motives while he was on the station."

Captain Tsushima stood up as straight as she could, and the Crimson Guardsmen behind her subtly took more aggressive postures.

"You are tresspassing on official property of the government of Crimson Sparta, and I demand that you and your guards stand down immediately."

My friends,

Sadly, Real Life will be kidnapping me for the next few weeks, and I will be travelling to San Francisco, Las Vegas and San Diego on business. I will have very limited access to the net, but I will try my darndest to get on and post. I return Oct.30, and will post my ass off at that point. Have fun, stay well and RP ON!

I can, and will be posting ALL DAY Friday, Oct.15

Steve (Gawdly)

OOC: Just throwing up an innocent little tag.

"Ma'am," Mike tried to explain, stepping forward, "We are not here to tread on the feet of Crimson Sparta, but you are mistaken in your claim. This ship is the property of Klonor until it is released to you. Under the Space Salvage Act, Subsection Three-G, if a ship is left without an owner on a space station, the station claims the property and can do with it what it wishes. We were given permission from the station commander and docking manager to perform a legal search of the property of an attempted murderer. We surely meant no harm."

He continued, "Now, my captain will be here any second, and..." Mike looked up. "Here he is now." Mike stepped down from the ship and stood between his captain and the Crimson Spartan ship captain. "Captain Stockwell, this is Captain Tsushima of the Spartan Stellar Corps. Captain Tsushima, this is Captain Stockwell, my superior officer."

Stockwell stepped forwards, extending his right hand to the female captain. He was accompanied by his entire unit, and he had called for reinforcements on the way down to the docking bay. They wouldn't arrive for a half-hour, by which time Stockwell was hoping that there would be no need for them anymore. "Nice to meet you. How are you today, Captain?" he asked her.

"I'm fine, Captain," she replied, simply bowing. "But I'd be a lot better if we could be on our way and back to protecting our convoys."

She turned away from Stockwell for a second, looking at the ship. "As for your claim that the ship is not ours to claim, the government of Crimson Sparta owns all space-faring vehicles that our citizens use. As a matter of fact, we have the documents for the ship..." she paused, as if waiting for a dismissal from Stockwell. After she didn't get it, she continued. "...that we can produce. If you don't trust us, that is."

She motioned for the guards to enter the ship. "This ship is, and has always been, property of Crimson Sparta. No salvage laws apply to us, and we would like to be on our way." I'm sure you have some report to fill out, she didn't add.

"Ma'am, we have an ongoing investigation happening right here, and it is of our greatest interests that the ship remains where it is. We have a right to search it, and we will not give it up. If you'd like, you can leave the station and come back when we're done with the ship. Salvage laws aside, we have the ship in our custody, and we are not going to give it up."

Mark closed the hatch and sealed himself inside. The two guards standing outside stepped towards each other, to stand shoulder to shoulder. They held their guns forward and at the ready, just as the other rifle-wielding officers did. The other officers unlocked their pistols from their sides and kept their hands hovering over their hips.