Liberated Vortigaunts
30-06-2006, 15:26
Asteroid belts were dangerous places. Huge chunks of black-brown rock performing a deadly ballet in the midst of a pitch-black, endless arena. Spinning and slinging each other, and occasionally even crashing into each other, sending hundreds of tiny new dancers into the fray as they danced with each other for all eternity. Starships entering such a hostile environment were almost doomed to destruction, as the rocks danced an uneven and unpredictable dance that few could navigate.
This didn't stop the underclass of society from building within these belts. Fearless, arrogant and occasionally even stupid, people came from all around to seek refuge within this inhospitable environment. The casualty rate was unimaginable, as pilots overestimated their flying abilities and ended up having a close encounter with an asteroid more often than not. Why they came to this place was no mystery; the Lost Tavern.
Buried deep inside a large planetoid that was trapped within the gut of this asteroid field, the Lost Tavern was a haven to those people who didn't want to be found. Crime was high, and the authorities were criminals, which meant that even if one could navigate the treacherous surroundings, they faced a similar danger upon landing in this desolate place.
The starports, dug deep into the enormous flying boulder, were ancient and in need of replacement. Most of the electrical systems had failed long ago, and the mechanics were more interested in bribing any foolish enough to leave their ships unattended to bother repairing them. The metal had rusted, its paint peeling and its firm integrity compromised. Upon leaving the ports for the rocky corridors that lead deeper inside, things were not much better. Steam poured from ruptured conduits, lights flickered as their power source was obsolete and browned out repeatedly. What was left of the metal floor had rusted so badly that was brittle enough for the weight of a small human to crack it open. The walls were roughly-carved rock, covered in weapon impact craters, graffiti and dried blood, and there were no signs of any cleaners in the entire base.
The bar, the main attraction, was little improvement. It was a vast cavern cut from the rock, and little care had been taken to ensure it was presentable or comfortable. Some of the wall alcoves were literally cut into the rock, chairs, tables and all. The tables and chairs that littered the main floor were filthy and rotten, made from ancient wood that had been used well after its proper lifespan. Even here there were no signs of cleaners, and spilled drinks and spoiled food stained everything. The bar itself was covered in broken glass and spilled ale, with few of the alien patrons taking any notice of the disarray. The bartender had one, bright-green eye which blinked sideways as he observed his disreputable clientele, and a shockroach was firmly fitted to his long left arm. Presumably this place had seen its fair share of trouble.
A strong musty smell dominated the thin, cold air, and the smell of vomit and urine was not far behind. A mysterious mist lingered on the floor, and a cloud of smoke from various forms of inhaled drugs lingered near the rocky ceiling. The harsh white lights, most of which had blown long ago, cast peculiar shadows through the cloud of smoke. This was not a nice place to be.
A mysterious ball of light began to form near the main entrance, with shocks of energy sparking out from its centre and lashing against the rocky walls. It grew larger and larger, providing more illumination than any of the lighting in the entire base. Some of the aliens who came from dark worlds were completely blinded by the green-yellow light that continued to grow in intensity. The high-pitched whining forced everybody to cover their ears, or whatever counted for ears at least.
A blinding flash of light obscured everything for a moment and the high-pitched whine shot up to an intolerable level, and then the light and the sound simply... stopped. The aliens in the bar could not see for a while afterwards. As their eyes adjusted to the normal darkness, they saw something standing in the place where the ball had been. A Vortigaunt. Its large red eye blinked innocently as it adjusted to its new surroundings. With three arms, two back-jointed legs and a naked, green-brown body it may have seemed unusual in some places, but it was nothing strange here. After a brief stint of silence, the patrons returned to their low murmur of activity, ignoring the inter-dimensional newcomer.
The Vortigaunt stepped forward, its unusual, three-clawed feet tapping organically against the metal floor as it uncomfortably made its way to the bar. It looked at the bartender, a creature all-too familiar to his people, and its downward-facing mouth opened to ask a question in a strange tone of voice.
"Where is this one?" it asked nervously.
This didn't stop the underclass of society from building within these belts. Fearless, arrogant and occasionally even stupid, people came from all around to seek refuge within this inhospitable environment. The casualty rate was unimaginable, as pilots overestimated their flying abilities and ended up having a close encounter with an asteroid more often than not. Why they came to this place was no mystery; the Lost Tavern.
Buried deep inside a large planetoid that was trapped within the gut of this asteroid field, the Lost Tavern was a haven to those people who didn't want to be found. Crime was high, and the authorities were criminals, which meant that even if one could navigate the treacherous surroundings, they faced a similar danger upon landing in this desolate place.
The starports, dug deep into the enormous flying boulder, were ancient and in need of replacement. Most of the electrical systems had failed long ago, and the mechanics were more interested in bribing any foolish enough to leave their ships unattended to bother repairing them. The metal had rusted, its paint peeling and its firm integrity compromised. Upon leaving the ports for the rocky corridors that lead deeper inside, things were not much better. Steam poured from ruptured conduits, lights flickered as their power source was obsolete and browned out repeatedly. What was left of the metal floor had rusted so badly that was brittle enough for the weight of a small human to crack it open. The walls were roughly-carved rock, covered in weapon impact craters, graffiti and dried blood, and there were no signs of any cleaners in the entire base.
The bar, the main attraction, was little improvement. It was a vast cavern cut from the rock, and little care had been taken to ensure it was presentable or comfortable. Some of the wall alcoves were literally cut into the rock, chairs, tables and all. The tables and chairs that littered the main floor were filthy and rotten, made from ancient wood that had been used well after its proper lifespan. Even here there were no signs of cleaners, and spilled drinks and spoiled food stained everything. The bar itself was covered in broken glass and spilled ale, with few of the alien patrons taking any notice of the disarray. The bartender had one, bright-green eye which blinked sideways as he observed his disreputable clientele, and a shockroach was firmly fitted to his long left arm. Presumably this place had seen its fair share of trouble.
A strong musty smell dominated the thin, cold air, and the smell of vomit and urine was not far behind. A mysterious mist lingered on the floor, and a cloud of smoke from various forms of inhaled drugs lingered near the rocky ceiling. The harsh white lights, most of which had blown long ago, cast peculiar shadows through the cloud of smoke. This was not a nice place to be.
A mysterious ball of light began to form near the main entrance, with shocks of energy sparking out from its centre and lashing against the rocky walls. It grew larger and larger, providing more illumination than any of the lighting in the entire base. Some of the aliens who came from dark worlds were completely blinded by the green-yellow light that continued to grow in intensity. The high-pitched whining forced everybody to cover their ears, or whatever counted for ears at least.
A blinding flash of light obscured everything for a moment and the high-pitched whine shot up to an intolerable level, and then the light and the sound simply... stopped. The aliens in the bar could not see for a while afterwards. As their eyes adjusted to the normal darkness, they saw something standing in the place where the ball had been. A Vortigaunt. Its large red eye blinked innocently as it adjusted to its new surroundings. With three arms, two back-jointed legs and a naked, green-brown body it may have seemed unusual in some places, but it was nothing strange here. After a brief stint of silence, the patrons returned to their low murmur of activity, ignoring the inter-dimensional newcomer.
The Vortigaunt stepped forward, its unusual, three-clawed feet tapping organically against the metal floor as it uncomfortably made its way to the bar. It looked at the bartender, a creature all-too familiar to his people, and its downward-facing mouth opened to ask a question in a strange tone of voice.
"Where is this one?" it asked nervously.