The Steel Hawk
26-09-2006, 05:36
Trevin Markov sat within on the uncomfortable stool of the bar, drink in hand. It had been a lousy week. Fired from his job, wife left him and took his kids, and he still owed several thousand credits to the local mob boss on a loan he had taken out. It seemed like nothing could get worse from this point, so he sat sulking, downing himself in the sweet beverage that would make his mind feel at ease for awhile, then leave him with a deadly headache the next morning.
"Markov, you owe Mr. Fita alot of money." The sharp voice came from behind him. He had to have said that nothing could get worse, didn't he?
Turning to see which thug it was Boss Fita had sent to collect this time, Trevin squinted as he took in the scarred armor that adorned the collector. A full face helmet, grey with many scratches and chips, and a black "Y" slit depicting where the eyes of the man obviously were peering out. The full suit of body armor, grey, chipped and scratched like the helmet, was unfamiliar to the man, as was the similar grav pack on the collectors back. But it was the blaster in his hands and the smaller pistol in his hands that gave him away. A bounty hunter.
"Please, I don't have any money at the moment, all I have is enough for a few drinks. Please, let me get you something..." Markov said weakly.
The bounty hunter shook his head, "I'm not here for a drink, or to hear your sob story. Mr. Fita is done waiting for you to repay him, and his men haven't been able to locate you, so he hired me. Now, pay up."
"I told you, I don't have the money!" the man pleaded.
"That's unfortunate to hear. Mr. Fita said if you didn't have the money, I was to bring you to him, now we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
With a look of resignation, Trevin set his mug on the bar counter and jumped down from his stool, then began walking towards the door with his head hung low. Once outside, the man started pleading again. "Please," he cried, "Just let me go. I've lost everything." But the bounty hunter just continued to walk without saying a word or even acknowledging that anything had been said.
"No! I won't go!" Trevin suddenly exclaimed stubbornly, but the collector simply continued on his way. In a last instance of desperation, Markov let out a wimper and then took off running towards the alley. He made it three steps, and then the sound of a blaster filled the otherwise silent nighttime streets.
Throwing the body at the feet of the rather fat man dressed in an elegant robe, the bounty hunter stood stoically, looking at his employer. "I see he didn't have the money," Fita said sardonically.
"You never specified he had to be alive when I brought him to you. Now when do I get paid?" the bounty hunter spoke sternly, getting straight to the point.
"As you wish, Akavi. My men have already delivered the payment to the hanger bay for your people to load onto your ship." replied the Mob boss uninterestedly.
"It better be all there."
Watching the darkness of space, observing the beauty of the star spangled heavens, Akavi sat deep in though on his bed. Another job done, another payment recieved, another addition to his reputation. In a few hours he would deposit this newest adition to his bank account, perhaps buy some upgrades. And then another thought crossed his mind. Perhaps he would have a bit of time off before being hired again.
(OOC: Well, figured I'd make more of a ship crew than a nation, focusing on the main character being a bounty hunter. If you'd like to hire him, just send a transmission or something to grab his attention.)
"Markov, you owe Mr. Fita alot of money." The sharp voice came from behind him. He had to have said that nothing could get worse, didn't he?
Turning to see which thug it was Boss Fita had sent to collect this time, Trevin squinted as he took in the scarred armor that adorned the collector. A full face helmet, grey with many scratches and chips, and a black "Y" slit depicting where the eyes of the man obviously were peering out. The full suit of body armor, grey, chipped and scratched like the helmet, was unfamiliar to the man, as was the similar grav pack on the collectors back. But it was the blaster in his hands and the smaller pistol in his hands that gave him away. A bounty hunter.
"Please, I don't have any money at the moment, all I have is enough for a few drinks. Please, let me get you something..." Markov said weakly.
The bounty hunter shook his head, "I'm not here for a drink, or to hear your sob story. Mr. Fita is done waiting for you to repay him, and his men haven't been able to locate you, so he hired me. Now, pay up."
"I told you, I don't have the money!" the man pleaded.
"That's unfortunate to hear. Mr. Fita said if you didn't have the money, I was to bring you to him, now we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
With a look of resignation, Trevin set his mug on the bar counter and jumped down from his stool, then began walking towards the door with his head hung low. Once outside, the man started pleading again. "Please," he cried, "Just let me go. I've lost everything." But the bounty hunter just continued to walk without saying a word or even acknowledging that anything had been said.
"No! I won't go!" Trevin suddenly exclaimed stubbornly, but the collector simply continued on his way. In a last instance of desperation, Markov let out a wimper and then took off running towards the alley. He made it three steps, and then the sound of a blaster filled the otherwise silent nighttime streets.
Throwing the body at the feet of the rather fat man dressed in an elegant robe, the bounty hunter stood stoically, looking at his employer. "I see he didn't have the money," Fita said sardonically.
"You never specified he had to be alive when I brought him to you. Now when do I get paid?" the bounty hunter spoke sternly, getting straight to the point.
"As you wish, Akavi. My men have already delivered the payment to the hanger bay for your people to load onto your ship." replied the Mob boss uninterestedly.
"It better be all there."
Watching the darkness of space, observing the beauty of the star spangled heavens, Akavi sat deep in though on his bed. Another job done, another payment recieved, another addition to his reputation. In a few hours he would deposit this newest adition to his bank account, perhaps buy some upgrades. And then another thought crossed his mind. Perhaps he would have a bit of time off before being hired again.
(OOC: Well, figured I'd make more of a ship crew than a nation, focusing on the main character being a bounty hunter. If you'd like to hire him, just send a transmission or something to grab his attention.)