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| The Baroness; Space Station above Verbena | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 11 2012, 04:59 AM (37,504 Views) | |
| PMD14 | Nov 6 2013, 10:24 AM Post #561 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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"God damn it! Hurry!" From beyond the bend in the corridor limped the Fed officer, a stump of a hand held under his good arm, his face pale. Following came an entourage of station security and the five other officers, all with pieces in their hands. Once they caught sight of Wolf and his friend the guns were held high. "Freeze where you are! Drop the weapon!" 'James' ignored them, not missing a beat, and the entrance way to the airlock, their destination, came into view a little ways down. He smiled over his shoulder to Jack, as if some amazingly entertaining game was afoot, and picked up the pace. Behind them the handless Officer started screaming, almost indistinctly, but Jack was sure he heard the word 'Fire!' in there somewhere. Moments later, the bullets came, raking the floor and walls all around the hallway. Over the chaos, alarms were sounding. Lockdown was underway. |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| Jack Wolf | Nov 6 2013, 10:56 PM Post #562 |
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The Misguided Hunter
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It all happened so fast. James was there, with his shiny new toy. The fed officer pale and looking about to lose his liquor appeared around the corner clutching his new stump close to his body. Fallowed by a gaggle of enemies, all with their weapons in hand and shouting. Why didn't he just kill him? Wolf could not help but think as he sprinted after James, it would have certainly avoided all of this, though somewhere deep down; he enjoyed the chaos. Not that he would ever admit it, no; that would be so unlike him. The door The thought screamed inside his head as the air lock door came into view, that was where they were heading all right, so the man really wanted to steal a fed ship. Wolf wondered why he was helping the man, though to late to back out now. It was then he noticed the grin on James face. Fire The word registered in Wolf's mind. That twisted grin that always seemed to find its way to Wolf's face during the times when no one should be smiling slipped almost unnoticed onto his lips. The sparks of copper jacketed rounds slamming into metal all around him, as he ran, he picked up his pace. Now Was the only thought as they reached the door, Jack hit the brakes. Sliding to a stop, whiling turning at the same time, all just inside the airlock door. To present a smaller target picture as he brought the rifle to shoulder, the red dot on the optic which topped the weapon. Sliding up and in line, the sight picture landing on the officer at the nose of the group, Wolf squeezed the trigger. The chain reaction happened in less than an instant, the trigger release the firing pin, which hit the premier cap on the round, the powder ignited sending the 122 grain copper jacketed hollow point down the barrel, while at the same time engaging the gas action, forceing the bolt back and ejecting the spent case, then loaded another round as it slammed back. Only to fire that round and then repeat the process, it was a lot to happen it such a small amount of time; the science of death in action. It took point zero, zero, four seconds roughly, as Wolf gave the gun the slightest twitches to his left and right. The weapon sending ten of those rounds, screaming toward the incoming officers; Jack released the trigger and quickly rolled inside the airlock door. Slamming the butt of his rifle into the control panel, as the lock down forced the air lock doors to start to slide down. Edited by Jack Wolf, Nov 6 2013, 11:12 PM.
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| MacTrom | Nov 26 2013, 03:03 PM Post #563 |
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Harbormaster
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As the airlock hatch started to slide close, with bullets spangling against the steel, a familiar voice cried out as a female body seemingly flew across the intervening distance and threw herself through the half closed iris. "Why the gorram hells of all that's unholy! Give a girl a chance to make an clean entrance, at least!" Theresa Foster slid past Jack Wolf as the hatch finally made itself secure. Bullets still pinged away outside as James grinned at the newest arrival. "This here's our engineer. I think we can handle this bird with just the three of us, don't you agree?" |
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But my heart is not weary, it's light and it's free I've got nothing but affection for all those who sailed with me Stick with me baby, stick with me anyhow. Things should start to get interestin' right about now ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |
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| Jack Wolf | Nov 29 2013, 03:48 PM Post #564 |
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The Misguided Hunter
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Jack heard the sound of copper jacket lead partially flattening against the metal door only to get quickly sent in another random direction, a sound he was all to use to. The rather bold ping of metal on metal at high velocity, a sound that should scare the hell out of any normal human being; alas the old Wolf was far from normal. On rare occasions he couldn't help for joke to himself that this sound was his nursery rhyme, while not remotely true; it sometimes felt like fact. Then came as voice, send a shock up the man's spine. "Why the gorram hells of all that's unholy! Give a girl a chance to make an clean entrance, at least!" Thoughts screamed through his mind, as a female body flung itself through the door and skidded across the floor. His eyebrow rose sharply and a partial slackness crept its way into his chin, allowing his chin to sag somewhat. (What in the bloody nine hells is happening today?) The question screamed through his mind like a freight train through a painstakingly made wall of precious china. For the first time in his life that man was somewhat speechless, no sardonic utterance of surprise, no sarcastic response; no his brain was temporarily incapacitated. All he could do was look between James and the woman on the floor. Finally he shook himself out of the utter shock that he had fell into for a spilt second. "No time to talk. Let's gets this bird in the black before they get that door open and learn how to bloody well shoot." ** continue on http://lostinserenity.com/topic/8887772/1/ ** Edited by MacTrom, Nov 29 2013, 04:47 PM.
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| PMD14 | Nov 17 2014, 10:40 AM Post #565 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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The beginning of a new saga... Dull lighting. Cold steel. Barely a breeze of filtered, chilled air from the vents. Clouds of hazy smoke. The damp, well-worn scent of alcohol. The Baroness never changed. For a pair of old travelers looking for a spell before the next leg in their journey, the inner-ring bar was as good a place as any to kick back and take in the sights. The hulking station was a rough diamond, floating in orbit around a dull red Verbena below, and the Valorous was only one of many small craft locked onto the outer-ring airlocks. Around the bar were a few dozen patrons - some small crews, some loners, and a few conspicuous pairs or groups making shady deals under the cover of dark. The lone bartender was currently smoking a hand rolled, leaning with a lazy slouch against the bar and reading some out dated magazine laid out amongst the alcohol slush and grime in front of him. << Enter Nick and Sam Hunter >> |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 17 2014, 01:08 PM Post #566 |
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Mudder
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Nick Hunter’s black leather boots pounded the corrugated steel flooring as they walked up from the docking ring toward the main skyplex. He counted on his dirty fingers, the blue-light flickering in the corridor. “…the grav boot needs a reset, oh-two scrubbers need a purge, and you should check the power couplings on turbine two, reaction is measurably slower. Are you writing this down?” He didn’t turn to look at his sister, Samantha, and rolled up his left sleeve. The cotton had given up it’s tight coil around his upper arm and fallen loose around his wrist, the cuff open, the button long since gone. At the nearest whiff of the oncoming stench of the bar, his eyes reduced to slits and he wrinkled his nose. “Ai ya,” he waved in front of it and panned the room. “While we’re here, I need to get the ad out there on the Cortex for some crew, not that I don’t love wandering around the ‘verse with you,” he said of his sister, scanning her up and down. “Also, the coolant line on the Aeneas is breached, that patch job you did on Triumph didn’t hold out, you can smell the leak in the shuttle bay. Are you getting all this?” |
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| SamanthaHunter | Nov 18 2014, 03:53 AM Post #567 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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The tiny girl had to jog next to her older brother, just to keep up with his far steps, in her arm was a pad that she was recording along what nick was saying. She knew all of this stuff. She knew what she had to take care of, but it was also to be expected. The ship was old. It needed a little TLC to get it to be the best ship in the verse. "I know what I have to do, Nick," she replied, as they stepped into the bar. "I'd be more concerned about the WPS vein," she continued. "Water was near brown last time I checked. I can only jerry rig a ship so many times until I need some new parts," She scanned the bar alongside her brother as he reminded her about the coolant line. "Most important thing is that she's flying. That she's flying and that the main atmo artery is fully functional, which it is," Her list of things to do was ever expanding. It seemed like everything on the old bird was a problem. Everything needed to be fixed. And she couldn't be more excited. "New crew would be nice. It would definitely liven up the place a little," she sighed, crossing arms across her chest. "It's a good ship though. She's a beauty when she flies." "Wanna grab a drink, or are we on a tight schedule, captain?" Even if he was her brother, he was still a captain, and she knew he liked that title, course, when he started letting it go to his head, well. Then she pulled out the embarrassing names to knock him down a peg. |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 18 2014, 06:49 AM Post #568 |
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Mudder
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"Yeah, well, I wish I were the king of all Londinium and wear a shiny hat, but unfortunately, new parts cost money, and money is something we don’t have. We got enough to keep her fueled, at least for another few legs, and the freezer hold fulla food should last us a while, but unless you can find some kind of barter system, or make do from something else, we’re a little strapped for cash." He put his hands on his hips, seeking a cortex link panel, seeing the digital blue display by the opposite door.
He nodded 'ahuh' without looking at her and started to cross the bar.
"Can you not call me that, for the fortieth gorram time?" he called over his shoulder, agitated. "I'm going to have a drink, trying to find work, scope out some crew. You, on the other hand should try and find some of the replacement parts we need, or near-enough substitutes." He crossed the bar, squeezing between tables, and swiped his ident card, bringing up the menu. His brow furrowed in the synthetic blue/white light, like the base of a flame, bright, translucent, aquamarine. The display made little tweeting bleep noises as he tapped through the menus, classifieds, job postings. The 'compose new wave' screen surprised him with the blinking red light. It was recording. "Uhh, hello." He said, bent over, leaning into the camera, his face strangely close in the light. On the display he thought his forehead looked big and tilted his head back and forth, looking at the little scars and divots in his forehead on the display. Weird, when did that one get there? Was his hairline receding already? He thought. He pulled back, and took a second, adjusting. The realization that this recording was indeed running hit him. He should probably be speaking, as it was billing him based on how much time he'd been recording. Yikes. "Uhh, well... I'm Captain Hunter of the Valorous, an Aurora-class small transport." Okay, the words were flowing now. "If you're looking for work, and who the hell isn't these days, and you're handy with cargo, and some technical skills, you go on ahead and send me a wave. My boat'll be at the Baroness for a few days. If y'all can wave me back, that'd be shiny. Uh..." he paused at the screen, and scratched behind his ear. "I guess that's that. Uh, bye." He closed the message. Purposefully avoiding the replay button so he could avoid making himself feel any more self-conscious than he was already, he clicked send, accepted the charge, stood back up and looked around, curious at how many people he'd looked like an idiot in front of. Sliding back through the tables, he seated himself at the bar and ordered a drink. Edited by CaptainNickHunter, Nov 18 2014, 07:01 AM.
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| PMD14 | Nov 18 2014, 09:37 AM Post #569 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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A little green light buzzed, lazily fading in and out of health due to years of neglect, signalling that the message of Captain Hunter had been circulated throughout the ‘Verse. In moments, his face graced screens far and wide. It wouldn’t take much luck to harness some attention from folk of all walks. Sometimes, though, the most valuable assets are closer than one expects. “Should you be wantin’ a tab, Mr…?” The bartender, still partly focused on the old, crumpled magazine he was reading, placed Hunter’s drink before him and lingered just long enough to find out if he would be getting cash or credit. Not far from the central bar, down the curving halls of the inner ring, a number of junk and sundries shops were setup. It was likely, if the goods were on hand, that the young Hunter would be in luck in getting their ride sorted. Whether they had the Credits was another question – black market prices were at an all-time high, especially for mech and computer goods. |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 18 2014, 10:14 AM Post #570 |
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Mudder
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Nick looked lazily up at the likely equally bored bartender. He reached his hand over the bar to shake his hand. "Hunter. Thanks. Captain, really, but you'd hardly know it, my only crew is my younger sister over there," he pointed across the bar at Sam in the doorway. "Does one exist as a captain if you've got no crew?" He looked down into his swirling drink. A headache was blooming in his cerebellum, vicious lightning bolts of energy coursed over the fissures of his central nerve cluster. He massaged his temples. He sighed audibly. "You wouldn't know any folks looking for a transport gig, would you? We're in dire need of some gainful employment." He smiled sheepishly at the bartender, then down at his drink. Oh, right, he thought. Payment. "Oh, it's credit," he said, looking away from the bartenders gaze, sliding his ident card across the bar. Silver was hard enough to come by, and what little was left in the combination vault on the ship was for a rainy day, or for critical engine parts. Edited by CaptainNickHunter, Nov 18 2014, 10:15 AM.
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| SamanthaHunter | Nov 19 2014, 07:27 AM Post #571 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Sam smiled as she was scolded for calling her brother captain as he headed to the bar. That was the only thing she didn't like about the chain of command- that he got to relax and she had to run around looking for parts like a chicken with her head cut off. Course, she knew he did other things, things she didn't have to do, but still! She'd like to sit down and get a drink instead of scrounging for parts! Either way, she headed out of the bar and towards the vendors. There were always spare parts someone was selling whether they were legal or not. Sam didn't care, so long as they did their job, and she was sure her brother wouldn't mind overlooking a few legal-hazy engine parts. What would the alliance do? Pull apart the whole engine? She laughed at the thought. When she walked towards the vendors, she looked at the crumpled paper covered in chicken scratch. Coolent line leak- more duct tape? Always more duct tape. She'd have to look for maybe some replacement line, just to replace the worst few meters of it. The power couplings could and would wait. If they were a notch or two slow, that wasn't life or death. Well... If they were on sale... And the Water Purification System. That needed some fixing. It would be all fun and games until everyone got sick from drinking their own waste. She approached a vendor with a hint of a smile on her face. "Hey, quick question for you. What do you guys have in the way of WPS fixes for an old Aurora transport and a cheap captain?" |
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| PMD14 | Nov 19 2014, 09:38 AM Post #572 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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The old man raised an eyebrow at the comment and, almost reluctantly, closed up the magazine before him and slid it under the bar. As his hand returned, in it was an old tablet device covered in scratches and chips. The screen still glowed quietly, though, and the old bartender pressed a thumb against one corner of the display to open up some listings program. "Captain, is it? Lemme just have a quick look over the recents..." He grumbled the words, half his attention on the task at hand and half swiping Nick's ident card and punching in the cost of the drink on a nearby console. There was a short pause, the mans eyes sweeping through lists of details - no doubt some on-station manifest of comings and goings. "Seems like we got a few folk without a home, if yer lookin'. Not always the most diligant guests we got here, but I could make inquiries. Should I notify them that a Captain is looking, Mr Hunter?" Out in the curving halls of the bustling inner-ring, Sam found herself pushing through a light crowd that was meandering from vendor to vendor, people of all walks trying desperately to find some foreign home for their hard earned (or, not so much) credits. The young man Samantha spotted, idling outside a small cargo bay that was setup as a parts shop, raised his gaze to meet hers as she approached. "Aye, might be we have somethin' of the sort. You're the 'cheap captain', I presume...?" He gestured towards the main door, the small cargo hangar within lined with dimly lit aisles of shelves covered in engine parts and old, rusting pieces of machinery. |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 19 2014, 01:13 PM Post #573 |
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Mudder
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Nick nodded along with the man, still continually scanning the bar, it's patrons all avoiding his own eyes. This was the sort of place one would go to if one wanted to vanish. This should, theoretically, he reminded himself, be the sort of place such people looking for such a crew would wait. The bartender's offer was kind, and while impressed that the bartender had such underwordly connections, he wasn't too surprised. This was the sort of dive bar where these transactions took place. He turned back to the bartender. "I appreciate your help pal, but, I do have my share of questions, what sort of people are we talkin' about?" |
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| SamanthaHunter | Nov 20 2014, 02:33 AM Post #574 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Sam smiled as he thought she was the captain. Well... Would it really hurt her to lie? FOr her to get to play captain for once? She knew that she really wanted to just say, "yeah, I'm the captain," But she also knew her captain was in the station, and that he would not be so happy if he found out about it. So, instead, she settled on telling the truth. "I'm actually the mechanic and first officer. The captain is off grumbling about financials, or something," Or, drinking... Those things were similar, right? Knowing Nick, he was probably grumbling over financials over a drink. He never took a day off from worrying. He just didn't work like that. Slowly, she meandered her way into the belly of the man's shop, keeping an eye on him from the corner of her eye. "I'm Samantha Hunter," She said finally. Introductions had just slipped her mind, but she needed to get the parts. They needed to get moving, she had hours of work in front of her. "So, your WPS fixes? Are they back here?" |
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| PMD14 | Nov 20 2014, 09:45 AM Post #575 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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The man made a 'harrumph' sound and crack a toothless grin at the Captains suspicions. Well founded, totally justified suspicions. "Sure, they ain't the best and brightest, and there might be some bad eggs…" He trailed off, the ‘but’ never really coming as the old man found neither the words nor the motivation to defend the reputations of the layabouts within his care. "Nobody ‘round here’s on a clean run, Cap’n. No clean slates. But they’re assets. Look at it like a store front, skills and techniques for sale. Sure, you might have to take in some unfavourable personalities with them, but whatever gets the job done, right?" He flicked through a few profiles on the screen in front of him, sighing as pixelated faces and redacted names passed him by. "Ah, how about this gem. Name’s Stephanie Allen, I believe. Had her on station a little over a month now. Small little thing, keeps pretty quiet. Knows her way around a computer system, though. I can tell you that." He gave a sleazy wink. "Ain’t too hard on the eyes either, Cap’n." He cleared his throat then, flicking through a few different pages of notes that the station’s employment roster had on this so called Stephanie. "So she’s a tech head, apparently came with a weapon so maybe she knows how to use it. Clocked a few hours in the station galleys, apparently has a bit of a technique in a kitchen." He shook his head, moving on to see just who else might be of offer to the new Captain. The young man smiled, brushing a lock of dirt, dark hair from his face as the pair entered the small bay. It was dim and dusty in here, the more than familiar scent of oil and rusting machinery meeting Sam’s senses as she descended a few short stairs to the bay floor. "Nothing new there, knuckledraggers being sent off to do the hard work eh?" He smiled, extending one hand as she introduced herself. A firm grip, hot clammy hands. “Joshua Moran. Pleased to meet you, Ms Hunter." The pair wandered down one of the middle aisles, Moran leading the way as he pointed out a number of different WPS fixes. The place was well stocked, considering it was the low-orbit equivalent to a scrap yard, and most of the spare parts seemed to be in good condition. There didn’t seem to be anyone else meandering through the small cargo bay, and the silence edged in on the pair. Sam’s young guide spoke before it felt uncomfortable. “These here, second edition Selix filters. They’re a bit dated, but they’re far superior to some of the newer makes. Especially working as part of an old system, these are probably your best bet." He started pulling down a couple of the bulky filters from the shelf. |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| ribsource | Nov 20 2014, 02:27 PM Post #576 |
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Sarge
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The Baroness. Here he was again. Bag with personal belonging, crate full of weaponry down by the side of him. Sitting in the same seat he had only been in months before. A seat which had a full view of the bar, always scoping, always keeping a weary eye on the patrons, always making sure he had an escape route, always thinking, always watching, always surviving. The Roisin Dahn or whatever it was called. They had docked there, with that joke a "Captain", getting himself stung by the feds straight away. Luckily Blaine had met up with Kidd, before his untimely passing, and then Stephanie Haynes. They had got into some scrapes and misadventures. Blaine was never one to stay with one group or pairing for too long. She dropped him off there, at the place where it all started. If he believed in fate, he would think it was fate, that he ended up back at the place where they started. Full circle and all that juju. Blaine had a few credits to his name, his ship, the Wolfsbane still out of his possession. Blaine hadn't been able to make enough to actually buy it back, but he its captors knew that he was good for the money so he didn't worry too much about it being sold on or anything like that. Even if it was, he would be able to get it back, somehow, someway - whether by hook or by crook he would get his ship back. Blaine leaned back on his chair, checking left, checking right. Then he leaned forward again. The men in the table next to him playing cards. One of them kept clutching at his knee - obvious weak point. T'nother was always hunched over, but would every now and then pull his shoulders back, and straighten up, as if to get the knots out of his back. The third just happily drinking away, or so it seemed, the guy was pretending to drink away, obviously trying to fleece the others out of their creds. Blaine had his PDA out on the table in front of him, checking the cortex. Looking, scanning, waiting for his next opportunity. |
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Remy Rokash ~ Companion ~ inactive Blaine Blair ~ Bounty Hunter | |
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| SamanthaHunter | Nov 21 2014, 07:24 AM Post #577 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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She took his hand, giving a firm handshake that she always prided herself in. Her mentor always taught her that you learn the most about people by how they shake hands. From what she could tell, Joshua's firm handshake told her that he generally knew what he was doing, which was good, especially when she was deciding whether to buy parts from him or not. And, by the look of his cargo hold, he had been doing this for a while. She looked over to the filter he held up. "Selix, huh?" She said with a smile. "I've been using these for years. You know, after the second generation, when they started messing around with the polymers in them, it really went all down hill," The filters were older, but so was the ship, and putting brand new parts in an old ship was pretty much asking for trouble. If possible, you had to keep it original, not like that was really all that possible. Long story short, The Selix filters would be fine. "What are we talking about for price?" She asked. "I should probably emphasize how cheap my captain really is," She joked. Most guys who worked at these little shops could be bartered with, and she felt like she could get the price down, which would probably mean a happy Nick. A happy Nick meant a happy ship. A happy ship meant a happy Sam. |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 21 2014, 07:52 AM Post #578 |
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Mudder
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"I think I can manage a variety of personalities, thanks. I'm not so easy to get along with myself," he said with a brief nasal-exhalation laugh. There were a number of people who looked stranded in the area, some people who seemed like they needed a lift or a ride to parts unknown. Maybe after a job was secured, they could offer to take some passengers to the destination.
"Sounds interesting, I mean, I already have a technical-type, my sister, but meeting people probably isn't a bad idea," Nick said, reflecting on the bartender's comment on her apparent beauty. "Where can I meet her?" He downed the rest of his drink and ordered another. "Say, you're a well connected man," Nick said, turning back to the bar and leaning over, he glanced at the blue light from the aged device. "Do you know of anybody looking to hire a transport ship?" |
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| PMD14 | Nov 24 2014, 08:35 AM Post #579 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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As Blaine pulled out his uplink PDA, the first message that seemed to catch his attention was a global job notification on some message board - Captain Looking For Strong Crew. The message awaited listening to, though the thumbnail showed a still of the apparent Captain's face, and Blaine couldn't help but notice the very same man sitting across the room from him, at the bar."Like I said, the young lady's been on station for a while now, helping out here and there. I'll give the galley a ping and see if she's around, shall I?" He turned to grab an uplink device that was linked in to the station's PA system. Before he started, though, he heard the follow up question and gave the Captain a nod. "Aye, we've got a few permanent's who have set up shop here on the station. Couple of... you know... businessmen. Might have some work for a ship your size. Should I arrange a meet, if any are seeing clients?" The young man cracked a smile. "Yeah, yeah, they are a bit older. But they do the trick." He started pulling down a second filter and took the first from her hands, heading to the front of the cargo bay. As if he'd just made the sale. "I'm thinking we're looking at something along the lines of 200 Credits each... to be honest. Not sure what else I can knock off for you on these ones, we're pretty low on stock." The price wasn't bad, definitely better than a lot of more official brokers would be able to offer. (OOC: Big ass weekend, very sorry for the delay guys) |
![]() Waelon Blake | Jimmy Chamberlain | Eli Harmon | |
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| CaptainNickHunter | Nov 25 2014, 02:27 AM Post #580 |
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Mudder
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"That'd be great, thank you," Nick said, turning on his stool.
"That would be mighty fine if you'd do that," Nick said, almost astonished at his luck. There had to be something else, there had to be a catch. He nervously looked around. Nobody in this crap-heel 'verse did anything for anybody without getting something out of it for themselves. At least, not in the world he was used to, and this beat up space-station with it's dirty glasses and greasy bar was hardly the place for such generosity. He ordered another drink. "Not that I don't appreciate your help an' all on this, pal, and I don't mean to be tetchy, but I do have to wonder, what's your cut? What's your piece in all this? Helpin' out transport captains can't just be good for business, now can it?" |
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