| abstract
| - Last Call Tavern A place like this makes a person wish every chair sat with its back to a wall. The tavern is a dark and shadowy place, the outside glow of the neb ula filtering in weakly while pale blue plasma lanterns gleam in the center of most tables (some seem to have run out of juice, but the complaints department doesn't care and the maintenance crew doesn't get paid enough to intrude on conversations better left in the darkness). The room stinks of sweat, cigarette smoke, and spilled alcohol and blood. Fifteen tables and six booths are arrayed around a central C-shaped bar counter, which has eight stools in front of it. Denson enters the tavern. His expression is grim. His clothes bear streaks of blood -- and probably not his own. From one of the corners of his mouth dangles a cigarette as he walks towards the counter, where he sees Zara. Zara looks up at the sound of footsteps, spotting Denson she waves him to t he seat next to her, "Looks like you've been having fun." "Fun gets nowhere near it," Deson grunts past the smouldering cancer stick in his mouth. "Haven't had this many people spill their blood over me since that riot in the red light districts back on The Rock." Zara smirks, "You doing the spillin' or where you helpin' 'em clean up the mess?" Denson scratches the back of his neck lazily as he unshoulders his impact rifle to put it down next to his stool. "I reckon I'm guilty of another few cases of grievous bodily harm now," is all he replies, snapping his finger for the barkeeper. "Double scotch, and make it double. I'm in too bad a mood to be kept waiting." Zara chuckles slightly at his reponse, she takes a sip of her drink, "So how long you wager we'll be stuck here?" Denson heaves his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, the leather of his coat creaking as the muscles shift underneath. "Until we have a new ship," he replies little helpfully. "If you can't take the waiting, then you chose the wrong job. It's always like that: long phases of waiting interrupted by brief bursts of action." Zara shakes her head, "I can take waiting..just like moving around." Parias is still sitting at his barstool, assumably besides Zara, sipping his drink. "Your problem, not mine." Denson again lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "You were with the Cap'n the other day, weren't you? Care to let me in on what happened? I got seperated from you when the dome cracked. Spent some fun time in the alleys offing some muggers." Parias turns on his barstool to see who Zara is talking to. He sees Denson and nods slightly, but saying nothing at all. Zara snorts, "Sounds like how I spent my day." she responds then raises her glass, finishing it off and placing it on the bar, "Basically we holed up in Cabrerra's building. Zara shrugs, "Threw our weapons down, when they came in..they asked for the person in charge. Neidermeyer showed up, yellower then a Vollistan and gave 'em information on Sivad and Sanctuary. Those things controlled the boss too, got some information from him. Anyhow..make a long story short, Tka ripped out a Vollistan's throat, the bad guys left and it was over." "I see," Denson nods, allowing some cigarette smoke to curl from his nostrils as he exhales. "So Scales couldn't hold back again, eh?" The huge man snorts and takes his smoke from his mouth to gulp down his drink. "Some day I'll just shoot him in the back." Zara smirks, "The 'path had it coming." she responds, "Plus. .he's stupid, but I'd rather have him watchin' my back then Neidermeyer." "Neidermeyer is a snake," Denson agrees, not without a warning glare at the barkeeper. "But he works for the Boss, and he's the second man on the ladder, so snake or not, I'm not going to cross the Boss by messing with Neidermeyer." Zara nods slightly, "Yeah well, I'll keep that in mind. Just don't be expectin' to trust him any farther then I can watch 'em." "I don't either," Denson grunts with another exhalation of bluish fumes. "I've been on my own long enough to know who I can trust and who not." He tosses back the remnants of his drink and again drags at his cigarette before continuing casually, "And you're still category two in my book for a while." Vriik arrives from Aurora Strand . Vriik has arrived. Zara smirks, "Thought we'd already addressed that. Anyone who's so quick to trust is either a fool or a liar...if you where a fool I doubt you'da lasted this long...so if you did anything else I wouldn't be sitting here. " Vriik enters the Tavern from the outside, glancing around the room. He nods at Sean and Denson and seats himself near the door, back to a wall. Volarn arrives from Aurora Strand . Volarn has arrived. Vriik is sitting near the door, back to a wall, feet propped up on a chair. Zara is seated next to Denson talking. She has a bruise across her lower jaw. Volarn steps into the bar, glancing carefully about. He spots Vriik, and slides into a chair nearby. His aura is swirling a soft greenish-grey "Can't hammer it home often enough to some people," Denson replies nonchalantly while a last long drag ends the already meager lifespan of h is cigarette, which then wanders to join its brethren in the ash tray graveyard. His hand doesn't come to rest though and wanders into his coat to get out a fresh cancer stick and his matte black zippo, which only vanishes again after the cigarette is lit. "But I reckon you'll do fine. If you don't... Well, I don't have any qualms to get rid of you with a shot to the back. And let's leave it at that, I'm getting tired of this topic." Zara shrugs, "You brought it up." she retorts then after a pause says, "I was serious about learnin' from you though. I gotta lot of learnin' to do if I'm gonna keep up with all of you." "We'll see how you fare," is Denson's simple reply to that, follo wed by another whisp of smoke leaving his lungs. "I reckon the Cap'n wouldn't have taken you if you weren't good for -something-." Zara snorts, "Didn' say I wasn't good for something, 'm saying that I may as well be good at more, no?" "Then don't hang around the lizard for too long, else you'll end up being good for nothing." Denson slides his glass over to the barkeeper for a refill. "And stay away from the Cap'n's appendage. She's new to the... business. Just a fair warning so you don't come to me complaining when you or her get in my way." Zara smirks, "The Captain's appendage is as much of a waste as space as I've ever seen. Yesterday the lemmings where attacking and she was busy trying to make the boss comfortable if you know what I mean." "Just why does that fact somehow fail to surprise me?" Denson snorts past the cigarette in his mouth and nods at the 'keep as he receives hi s fresh drink. "I doubt she'll be of any use when a raid gets nasty. Probably hasn't ever seen someone spill his guts after a full magazine of slugs was spent on him." Zara shakes her head, "Was shaking like a leaf yesterday when those 'paths showed up." "Sweet Baby Jesus," Denson groans to himself in half real half mock resignation and downs his drink before allowing his cigarette to reclaim its habitat between his lips. "And she wonders why I neither trust nor like her." Zara nods, "She's not a bad kid I think. But a distraction." "Not for me," Denson states simply. "If she gets into my line of fire, her problem. I'm not going to wait for her to dive out of the way." Zara nods, "Good point." "Good point, hmph." Denson snorts in a mildly amused way. "Do you think I would have made it this far if I cared for every bloody soul that crosses my path in life? No. I can accept only so many people as confidants. And that number's close to max now." Anatole arrives from Aurora Strand . Anatole has arrived. Anatole slips into the tavern slowly, looking around as if he expects Lem'ing to leap at him from every side. Finding only locals, visitors, and riff-raff, he grins relievedly and heads to find a table. Falkenberg arrives from Aurora Strand . Falkenberg has arrived. Falkenberg glances over his shoulder as he enters the Tavern. "They're animals out there," he mutters. He limps toward the bar. Denson looks up from his drink and cigarette and waves Falkenberg over to the seat next to him; Zara is already sitting on the other side. Falkenberg orders his usual double scotch from the bartender, and then moves to join Denson and Zara. "We don't seem to have any luck with ships, eh Cap'n?" is Denson's grunted greeting as Falkenberg sits down. Anatole heads to a quiet table, and props his feet on it, leaning back lazily. He calls. "Anything Timonese!" in the vague direction of the bartender, and settles back. Falkenberg grunts and takes his drink from the bartender. "Don't remind me. I'd suggest getting an apartment here in the city, I don't think we'll have a replacement anytime soon." "I reckon that's already been taken care of," Denson remarks casually and takes a long drag at his cigarette. "At least for me. It's been long since I last actually slept planetside though. Have spent much more time in bunks lately." Falkenberg chuckles. "Well, if you've seen the apartments here, you won't be much more comfortable. I could do better, of course." He sips his drink. "But we'll see." Denson grunts lightly and snaps his finger at the barkeeper again. "Tequila Silver," he orders shortly before going back to lazily dragging at his cigarette. "Sorry for not being around yesterday, but as I was telling Zara earlier, I got seperated from you guys when the dome cracked. Spent the next couple of hours showing wannabe muggers that it's a bad idea to go and try ganging up on me." Falkenberg chuckles. "It's all right. Just glad to see you're alive. Next time, though, try to stick close to me when awesomely powerful aliens show their heads. I'll be in the place most likely to survive." "I reckon we'll be at the same place then," Denson replies with a dismissive shrug. "Per default. I haven't lived through all this bloody crap to get killed anytime soon." Vriik stands and exits, nodding at Denson, Falk, and Sean. He waves a claw at Volarn. Volarn nods, standing up to follow quickly. Volarn heads into Aurora Strand . Volarn has left. Vriik heads into Aurora Strand . Vriik has left. Zara steps back into the bar after having stepped out a moment. She crosses Vriik and Volarn as she enters, heading towards where Denson, Falk and Sean sit. Falkenberg chuckles. "Well, I wasn't crazy about the Hammer, anyway. The next ship will be better, assuming there are any places left to build one in the next few weeks." Anatole finally gets his own drink delivered, after the regulars are served , but he doesn't seem to mind. He lets his chair forward to land on all four legs with a dull clunk, and grabs a sip of his drink before taking a small book out of his jacket pocket. Those close enough to see who cared to look, would find it a guide to sailing ships. "We need two gunnery consoles again, one for each side," Denson s ays with another idle in- and then exhalation of smoke. "I see Scales getting angry if we just have one, which will be my post." Zara approaches the table, "Seat taken?" she asks as she walks behind an empty chair. If she realizes she's interrupted the conversation you don't notice. Falkenberg nods. "Well, I'll see what I can do. There are certain...as sets that still exist," he says. "The Hammer's birthplace is intact. But I suspect we will be without a ship for a while." He looks up at Zara. "Please, sit." Zara pulls the chair out and sits, head turning up as she searches for the waitress. "Nephtys you mean? Or whatever the name was. The Boromov Tech station. "Denson shrugs and taps some ash off his smoke with the thumb of his right hand. "That's good to hear. She's able to change position, isn't she? Those Lem'ings won't get her that easily then." Falkenberg glances around in mild irritation. "It was Nephthys," he says. "And yes. But we shouldn't discuss it more than that." "It's a rumor in these parts already," Denson shrugs with a glance around the tavern. "Much like Adh Seidh. Though I reckon that's even more mystical." Anatole doesn't seem to be concerned with the other discussions, just busily reading his book and murmuring to himself. Setting it down with a frown, he pulls out a Terran-Timonese dictionary, trying to decipher a passage of the Terran book. Zara looks over twoards Denson, "Adh Seidh?" Falkenberg furrows his brow. "Adh Seidh? The mythical smuggler base?" He snorts. "I don't go in for fairy tales, Denson." Zara looks over at Falkenberg as he states what it is. "Nice to find it if it wasn't though." "Do I look like someone who does?" Denson slowly shakes his head while his fingers go to bury his cigarette in the ash tray. "I've been hearing about it lots of times in the past twenty odd years. Two or three of these times it was coming from someone who I reckon could have really known something about it, though none of them looked like they'd set foot to it for real." Falkenberg nods to Zara. "Sure, kid. Finding Atlantis would be pretty neat too." He looks at Denson. "And did your friends give you any idea where to look for it? I can tell you it didn't exist 350 years ago. If there was a smuggler base anywhere in the galaxy back then, I knew it. He ll, I probably RAN it." "Would I be sitting here in the galaxy's biggest rats nest if I knew how to get there?" Denson snorts and tosses back his tequila. "And with all due respect to your skill of keeping alive and in the business, Cap'n: you don't know everything, and you had better stay aware of that. I reckon hubris doesn't exactly facilitate surviving." He grabs for his second glass of transparent liquid and pours it down with a quick flick of his wrist. "But why do you ask me? I reckon if anyone has any more tangible info about that place, it's our smuggler friend. You know who I'm talking about, I'm sure." Falkenberg grunts. "I haven't spoken to her in...quite a while," he says, sipping his drink. "And I'm not sure she would tell me if she knew." "Wouldn't surprise me if she didn't," Denson shrugs as he slides his two glasses back over to the barkeeper. "I reckon the place wouldn 't be as mystical if everyone who knew about it would run around and tell the next person." Zara listens to the two. Falkenberg nods. He sips his drink. "And beyond that...she doesn't want to help me do the things I do," he says. "If I get out of the business, things might be different. But there really is no way out. If the stories of that place are true, there'd be stuff there to make us almost in vincible." He swirls his glass in his hand. "Besides...it's not that I don't trust her...but there's some...connection between her and the Hunter that she wouldn't come clean about last we spoke." Anatole tosses the dictionary on the table, causing it to skid off the other side and onto the floor, rattling off in annoyance. He says, "janei U elei Sarie'a Sarie'a da'aeu Airenei nahlieen Airenei da'aeu ces'Edien ele i meJai Sarie'a nahlieen Airenei meJai" "Oh, there are ways out," Denson grunts in mild amusement. "But I reckon most of them unfortunately would involve one or more ways of leaving this mortal plane. The only way to get out of it alive is to survive your boss. And I don't see Cabrerra kicking it anytime soon." Zara shrugs, "Seems to me gettin' rid of the boss wouldn't be enough." Zara glances over at Denson then back to Falkenberg, "If word on the streets true, two of you got quite a few enemies. People like that tend to not forget." Falkenberg looks at Zara sharply. "Don't ever say those words together again. Not in here." Falkenberg waves a hand dismissively. "I have no intention of looking for a way out...yet. I may wish to retire at some point. When I lost my leg and the Dark Vengeance was destroyed, I was more interested in finding a way out. But I'm over that. Still, enemies can be fooled by some plastic surgery and a good false ID." Zara brings a hand up sharply and nods, "I got it..i got it. Didn't mean nothin' by it. Far as I'm concerned Cabrera's a hell of a person to be workin' for." she says in a rather shabby attempt at correcting her earlier mistake. Anatole sighs, and hauls himself out of his chair to retrieve the volume, tucking both books back into his pockets. Settling down with a groan, he takes another sip of his drink and amuses himself by tossing a pair of dice on the table boredly. He glances towards the bartender, and calls across the bar. "You hear ship come take people off, you tell yes?" Subsiding back to talking to himself, he discusses the situation with the empty chair across from him. "Lady Fate play big trick on all, eh? Nobody get off planet till ships come. Maybe charge big fee fly off while market corner yes?" The holoviewer comes on for a brief announcement about an impromptu fight i n the arena. Denson just gestures just as dismissively. "Girl, I have made so many enemies that I lost count. Not that I ever bothered to start counting in th e first place, mind." He tosses back his two fresh tequila and the goes about to light another cigarette, the fourth of this evening. "And still I'm alive, after twenty-odd years of killing and mauling people. I quite frankly don't give the slightest bloody fuck about my enemies," he adds when his cigarette is glowing between his lips. Falkenberg glances at the Holoviewer. "Arena fight," he says. "I wonder if it's our friends from the cell." He looks at Zara and Denson. "Care to go check it out? There's nothing else to do in this half-looted, shipless city." Zara shrugs, "with all due respect to your skill of keeping alive and in the business," she says repeating his earlier words, "you shou dln't discount your enemies so easily. I reckon carelessness doesn't exactly facilitate surviving." Denson glares at Zara for a second and then laughs. "Girl, you just went up a good couple of steps on my list," he says with a smirk before turning to Falk. "We could just stay here and watch." Falkenberg looks at Zara. "No one's discounting anything," he says. Falkenberg nods. "Might as well." Zara smirks a bit to Denson and turns back to Falkenberg as he speaks, attention flashing to the holovid for a moment, "I wager the service is better." Denson groans. "Look, it's our friend from the Sirrocco. When did he grow a mouth that big?" Anatole blinks and sits up at the voice on the holovid, looking at it curiously. "That tavern man, no?" he asks the empty chair to his left. "This why tavern no charge entrance fee now maybe." Zara smirks, "Think it comes with the small brain." "Funny, he was remarkably less loudmouthed about pain when we went and broke his leg and arm," Denson grunts, crossing his arms as he leans back against the counter. Falkenberg chuckles to Denson. "Probably after I tortured him today in to giving the Boss his bank, gallery and Tavern." Zara turns her eyes to Falkenberg and grins, "Like how he tossed in th at gallery for free at the end." Falkenberg grins and nods to Zara. "Yes, he broke surprisingly easily. " Falkenberg chuckles as he watches the screen. "Do you think Ardvaark will have his other leg broken, or his other arm?" Zara grins, "I wager on both." Denson squints at the holoviewer in disbelief. "Pinch me, someone. Tell me I'm dreaming. This is not the same place that got attacked by nasty aliens the other day, is it?" Anatole confides to the empty chair on his right. "Lady Fate more cruel some than me least. Maybe get off planet soon if ships come." He nurses his drink, subsiding into a troubled, brooding look. Falkenberg grins. "It is indeed." "Its just like The Rock." Zara says, "Things happen, life go es on." Falkenberg nods and sips his drink. "Maybe some of the looters in the street will take a break to watch the fight." "Truer words have never been spoken," Denson laughs in response to Zara's words, then leaning back to order another round of tequila. Zara looks over at the waitress as Denson orders, "Scotch straight.&qu ot; Denson grunts. "They should've let me fight those two and finish off Aardvaark for good." Zara continues watching and shakes her head, "Why break a sweat? They' re so outmatched it's almost a waste watching." Falkenberg raises an eyebrow. "Denson, the two of them are so beat up already, it wouldn't be worth the effort. But if you really want, I can probably arrange for you to fight whichever of them survives." Jax O'Conner arrives from Aurora Strand . Jax O'Conner has arrived. "Break a sweat over those two? I don't think so," Denson snorts and reaches back to get his tequila. "Not necessary, Cap'n. I can do without having wimps like those two spill their guts over my arm." Jax O'Conner stels into the tavern. He glances around and then makes his way towards the bar. Falkenberg is sitting with Denson and Zara, watching a fight on the holoviewer. Zara looks over to Falkenberg then back at the holovid, "Think i'm gon na make good use of the time we're stuck here and see if i don't get in some time with these pistols." she says motioning towards her pulse pistol. Falkenberg nods to Zara. "Good girl. You need any pointers, talk to me or Denson." Zara nods, taking a sip of her scotch. "Whats the name of that 'path from last night..not the one that Scales got rid of..the other one?" she asks Falk turning to face him. Jax O'Conner sits himself at a bar stool and turns to watch the fight. Falkenberg grunts. "Volestad." "Shoot all telepaths on sight is a good motto to live by," Denson nods. "I don't particularly like having one on crew." Falkenberg pats his psi blocker. "Just keep one of these with you," he says, "and it won't much matter." Zara turns to look at Denson and smirks, "Couldn't agree with you more ." she responds then looks back to Falk, "I wouldn't count on it." she says with a frown, "That damn 'path tried to toss my psi-blocker today." Denson grunts again. "Good point," he nods before removing the smoke from his lips to toss down his tequilas in quick succession. "But don't these dull your perception?" Denson rolls his eyes as his cigarette wanders back to his mouth. "This is pathetic," he grunts out of the unoccupied corner of his mouth as he watches the 'fight'. Zara shakes her head, "It ain't worth watching." she says. Then returns to the earlier conversation as if informing Falk, "I warned that 'path, he try to use his mind skills on me again and he's dead. I ain't asking why, he's just dead." she seems fervent on this point. Falkenberg furrows his brow. "He tried to use his mind powers on you? What for?" Zara shakes her head, "Show of power..tried to toss my psi-blcoker away. Luckily I caught it as it fell from my belt." Falkenberg grunts. "When was this?" Zara responds, "Today." she shakes her head, "Don't know who he works for and didn't know how you'd feel 'bout me killing him here. But I ain't warning him again." "I'll shoot him when I next run into him," Denson remarks casually, eyes still oddly attached to the holovid. Falkenberg smirks. "Don't let me stop you," he says. "Either of you. Volestad is no friend of mine." Zara nods, "Then he better hope he keeps his distance. If there's one thing I don't like, it's 'paths." Jax O'Conner perks up at the mention of the Vollistan. He turns towards the group. "What about Volestad?" he asks quite suddenly. Falkenberg turns and glares at Jax, hand moving toward his pistol under the table. "What's it to ya?" Zara turns her attention to Jax quickly as he questions their conversation. Denson moves his hand into his coat, not even bothering to turn his head. Sean shoots a glance over at the sudden escalation of the conversation.. Tkagorth arrives from Aurora Strand . Tkagorth has arrived. Tkagorth clomps into the Last Call, grumbling about looting softskins. Zara is sitting with Falkenberg and Denson. Her eyes are on Jax. There's a bruise across her lower jaw. Falkenberg is sitting at a table with Denson and Zara, watching a fight on the holoviewer. He is glaring at Jax at the moment and reaching for his gun , and the others are reacting similarly. Jax O'Conner shrugs his shoulders. "I've just heard the name before... he's a friend of Sanctuary's PR Liaison." the man says calmly. Falkenberg nods slowly. "There a reason you're listening in to my private conversation, pal?" Tkagorth blinks as he spies his boss and Denson reaching for their weapons. Tkagorth reaches around his back and pulls out his Impact Rifle as casually as a nine foot Zangali can do that. Jax O'Conner chuckles slightly. "None really. Just thought I could help you out if you're looking for him." he sighs, "But if you don't need me, you don't need me." with that he turns his attention back to the fight, either oblivious to the tension or unconcerned. Denson's rifle emerges from his coat with the same amount of nonchalance the impact rifle ended up in the Zangali's hands, although at the moment he pretends to be checking the state of its ammo clip. Zara doesn't reach for a weapon, though her attention is obviously focused on Jax. Falkenberg looks at Jax for a moment, debating something. Turning to see the Zangali, he hmms to himself, then says, "Tkagorth, throw bar."<= p> Tkagorth doesn't pretend jack, he outright points the impact rifle at Jax, and starts towards the table, at Falk's speaking though, he gets a happy gleam in his eye, and slips the rifle back over his shoulder, "Yup." he replies. Falkenberg sips his drink, and ceases paying attention to Jax or Tkagorth.<= p> Jax O'Conner rolls his eyes. "This the way you treat everyone who offe rs to help you? Neidemeyer won't be happy when he learns his new hacker had his face smashed in by your goons." Tkagorth reaches down to pick up Jax. "Consider it a lesson in discretion," Falkenberg says casually. Sean smirks Denson's rifle wanders back into its slings just as casually as it emerged. He grunts lowly to himself and reaches up to idly tap some ash off his cigarette. Jax O'Conner draws the pistol from his hip and places it against the Zangali's chest. "Neidermeyer isn't going to like this one bit." he growls while squeezing the trigger. Tkagorth peers down at the gun, and then at Jax, "Stupid softskin, put gun way. Tkagorth bash softskin lots." Zara is still watching the confrontation when this occurs and moves to grab her knife from its sheath. Denson shakes his head and snorts in amusement. "Can't even do the sim plest of things right, can you, Scales?" Then, however, he gets up, almost nonchalantly lifting the impact rifle he'd placed next to his stool, a ccompanying this movement with a theatrical sigh and another shake of his head. "Heads down everyone who wants to keep it." Falkenberg sighs. "It seems the lesson in discretion was overdue for our friend here. Yes, let me shoot the big, angry Zangali whose friends are sitting three feet away." He backs out of Denson's line of fire, but remains in his seat. Zara pulls her knife from the sheath, but upon hearing Denson remains sitting where she is. Cesca arrives from Aurora Strand . Cesca has arrived. Falkenberg is sitting at a table with Denson and Zara. Denson has just drawn an impact rifle, and is pointing it toward where Jax and Tkagorth are standing. Jax's gun is pressed to Tka's chest. Zara is sitting at a table with Falk and Denson, she holds a knife in her h and, Denson holds a pistol. The pistol is aimed at Jax, who is currently holding a gun to TKa's chest. Cesca walks very slowly into the tavern, her helmet carried negligently ben eath her arm. She's rather pale and hollow-eyed. Tkagorth gets shot, the bullet penetrating his armor, but not his thick scaly skin. He looks down at Jax, and seems to smile, "Softskin no smart. " he says simply before bringing a clawed fist down at Jax's throat. Zara grimaces for a moment, "Remind me not to make 'em angry." she says to no one in particular. Jax O'Conner leans quickly to the left, causing him and his barstool to fall to the floor. He spins and aims his pistol at Falkenberg's head now, rea izing that he must be the leader of the pack. "Call your goon off unless you want Neid to blow your head off tomorrow. I happen to be his prized hacker and I don't think he'd like it if I turned up missing." Cesca stops inside the door and very slowly closes and reopens her eyes. Does she sway ever-so-slightly as she stands there and tries to focus upon the room? "Bad call, boy," Denson grunts lowly, his impact rifle already lo wered, charged, and aimed at Jax. "We happen to be very valuable to Cabrerra ourselves. Give me a better reason to let you go by three and I migh t consider it. One, two, three. Times up, what's your answer?" Tkagorth peers at Jax as he doesn't shoot, and then swings again, claws extended reaching to tear the softskin's hide from his body. Falkenberg smirks at Jax. "You're the one who decided to shoot him," he says. "I can't stop him now. And Neidermeyer won't blow my head of if you end up dead, boyo. I'd be focusing on trying to placate the big, angry lizard you just stung. Or I'd be running, fast." Zara shakes her head slightly, "Seems there's no shortage of stupid people." Jax O'Conner rolls quickly at of the way of the Zangali, its claws brushing against his shirt and ripping it off to reveal his vest. He brings aims the pistol at Falkenberg once more and this time attempts to pull the trigger ... ... but Denson is faster, the huge man's impact rifle recoiling as it unleashes its charge at Jax. Jax O'Conner's body explodes like a blood sausage, sending blood and gore f lying across the room. Once the initial carnage dies down all that is left of the man are a few stray limbs, his head missing entirely. Cesca watches the man get hit with the round from Denson's rifle. Her eyes are slightly vacant, but she does seem to bear witness to the violent end to the hacker. The woman doesn't flinch and doesn't even seem to react much at all. Zara brings her left hand up, still wiedling the knife in her hand she seems to be trying ot keep some of the gore off her face. Denson grunts to himself and reshoulders the rifle, sneering satisfiedly as he turns to Tkagorth. "-That- is how you do it, Scales. Try to take l earn something for next time." Tkagorth gets spattered with blood and guts, he nods once, "Good." and then turns back towards the table. Falkenberg winces at the mess. He walks up to the bar and slaps down 100 credits. "For the cleaning costs," he says. He glances at the remai ns of Jax. "Trying to shoot me or a member of my crew ain't so bright, bub." Cesca lingers near the door, standing there rather as if she's becoming a fixture of the decor. Her dark-eyed gaze watches a glistening chuck of Jax leak blood slowly on to an older, more faded bloodstain of the hue of Timonae blood. Falkenberg glances at Sean. "Any problems with the way that went down? " Zara brings her hand down after all is said and down and wipes her knife, now blood splattered on her jeans before resheathing the knife, "Next t ime." she says turning to Denson, "Wanna try making a little less of a mess?" Tkagorth looks down at his chest where Jax shot him, and puts two claws into the hole, a few moments later he pulls out a rather worn down bullet. Denson gives Cesca but a short glance before he turns to had back to the table, muttering to himself when he realizes his cigarette has gone out in the meantime. "Cap'n, I think your girl is having problems," he rem arks casually as he sits down. He just snorts at Zara. "No, why should I. Makes for a good warning example." Sean shrugs, "Whatever." He turns back to the bar. Zara shrugs, "Yeah.." she wipes her bloodied hands off on her pants, "But geez." Falkenberg grunts and nods. He walks over to the table. "Wanna move to one not covered with gore, folks?" He looks up at Cesca as Denson speaks. He nods once and walks over to her. Zara spares a glance for Cesca, "That girl don't look too good at all. " Falkenberg looks at Cesca. "Francesca," he says. "Would you like a drink?" Tkagorth shrugs, "Tkagorth no care." he says as he rolls an eyeball around between a pair of fingers. Zara shrugs and stands, flicking a piece of skin distastefully off the table, "Definitely need to find a new way of disposing of people." she looks over at the others, "So we going or not?" Cesca doesn't immediately answer Falkenberg as she watches Jax's blood merge with the stain Tixxon created on the floor the night that he died. Denson is already settled back on his stool, zippo re-lighting his cigarette. "I don't care either. If you're going to I'll join up, but I'm fine ." Falkenberg snaps his fingers in front of Cesca's face. "Do I need to slap you again?" Cesca blinks. Once. Then again. Her eyes focus upon Falkenberg's hand and she frowns a little, leaning back and casting a slightly irritated look to the man. Still, she is silent. Zara shrugs then looks over at Cesca and Falk, "Don't think we're gonna be going anywhere long as she's just standin' there." Falkenberg sighs. "If you're done spacing out, I'll buy you a drink" Tkagorth stands from the table and starts to walk out grumbling about talking to glowies. Denson glances at the Zangali as he clomps out and shouts after him, " Try not to mess it up this time, Scales." Zara watches Tka leave, "Where the hell's he going?" Cesca steps closer to Falkenberg, but doesn't even nod in acknowledgement. She merely stands at his elbow as if waiting for him to lead her somewhere. Gwilkyn arrives from Aurora Strand . Gwilkyn has arrived. Tkagorth turns towards Denson and growls, "No talk Tkagorth softskin. Only softskins talk Tkagorth, Boss, Jasra no crew, new crew girlie. No stupid Denson. No talk Tkagorth." Falkenberg looks at the gore-covered table, and then nods to the crew. "Come on, I don't want to sit in that guy's guts." He moves to another table, motioning for Cesca and the others to follow. A little Castori wanders into the the tavern, brushing a paw over its nose as it looks around the room for someone. Zara stands and grins, "Well, good to know I'm not on your bad list Scales." she says as she walks past him, following after Falkenberg. Denson rolls his eyes and rises from his chair. "And I keep repeating myself: I'm not taking orders from a lizard. Go try to rip someone else's throat out to lighten your mood." Falkenberg glances over toward the door. "Gwilkyn," he says. "Join us." Tkagorth snorts, "Tkagorth no scales." he says to Zara before peering at Denson, "No talk! Tkagorth sayed no talk. No talk. Tkagorth ba sh. No want waste time bash stupid softskin lots." Falkenberg settles down at a new table. He glances back at the bar, where the scattered blood and guts of Jax O'Connor are. Cesca drifts along in Falkenberg's wake and she settles down into a seat at his elbow... all without speaking a word. Gwilkyn snorts and nods to Falkenberg, walking slowly to where he is while grumbling, "I'm glad I found you." as she casts a glances at Denson. "Oh, I'm thoroughly frightened by that threat, Scales," Denson snorts as he moves to sit down at Falk's new and gore-free table. "It's not like you keep repeating the same threat over and over again. You almost sound like one of your broken records." Falkenberg smiles at the Castori. "I'm glad you're still alive. I thought you might have been on the ship during the attack of the Lem'ings. Not a ship on the planet survived." Tkagorth shakes his head as he clomps out, "No respect Tkagorth get. Lots bash softskins, no respect. Tkagorth start bash stupid softskin lots... " ad nauseum. Tkagorth heads into Aurora Strand . Tkagorth has left. Gwilkyn snorts again, her voice a low grumble, "Almost was, just left the ship at the right moment." She watches the Zangali leave and turns back to Falkenberg, "Part of the crew I haven't met?" Falkenberg nods. "Tkagorth. Zangali. Don't make him mad." He look s at Denson and Zara. "You've both met Gwilkyn, our new engineer? Now if we only had a ship for her to work on." Falkenberg is sitting at a table with Denson, Zara and Cesca. Gwilkyn is st anding nearby. Over by the bar there is a mess of blood and gore, apparently from someone who died recently. Not much is left of them." Gwilkyn finds an empty chair at the table and looks around at the mess, "No ship and I missed the party." she mumbles, then nods to Zara and Denson, "Greetings." Cesca looks down to the helmet that rests in the crook of her arm as if suddenly remembering its existence. Slowly, she lifts it to let it rest atop the table in front of her. Her dark gaze lingers on the helmet. Denson drags silently at his cigarette for some time, blue smoke coiling from his nostrils. "Nothing like ending your day the way it begun: in an orgy of blood and gore," he muses idly. Parias sits on a barstool at the *gasp* bar. He looks around the bar and notices Zara sitting with Falk and Denson. He shrugs and walks towards the table, making sure, as always, to keep his hands in plain sight and his weapons slung across his shoulders. Falkenberg gestures to the rather spacy looking woman sitting next to him. "And this is Cesca," he says. "She doesn't seem to be feeling too well." Gwilkyn nods to the human beside Falkenberg as she turns towards him, "I did have question." she grumbles. "Ask away," Falkenberg says, sipping his drink. Gwilkyn glances around at the table and then back to the man, "Still part of crew?" Cesca's eyes drift slowly closed and then just as slowly reopen. There are dark circles beneath her eyes and she mostly certainly doesn't look well, but it's difficult to tell by sight if her affliction is physical or mental. Parias continues to walk towards the table of the group. He is within range and he says, "Hello Zara." He then nods to Falkenberg and Denson , but doesn't say there names because he doesn't know them. Falkenberg raises an eyebrow. "Are you still a part of the crew? Certainly. You, Sandy, Zara, Denson, Tkagorth...you are all my crew. The fact that we do not have a ship currently is just a minor setback, that will be addressed in time. Not the first time this has happened. I just wish I had saved my books, and that new carpet in my cabin was very expensive." Zara looks up from the table and at Parias, nodding a greeting. She doesn't invite him to sit but then again, doesn't warn him not too. Gwilkyn laughs in a grumbling sort of laugh, "So now, I won't need to be fixing ship." "I know damn well why I keep my weapons about myself and don't put the m in a locker or something silly like that," Denson remarks dryly. Falkenberg chuckles. "Not at the moment, no. But we will get another s hip. A better ship. It will just take time." Cesca murmurs something in another language and her tone is mournful. Zara looks towards Denson, "Yeah, but it ain't like they're that hard to find. Got 2 plasma rifles just this mornin." Parias is now like, standing at the table. He still doesn't say anything though. He just sorta stands there. Gwilkyn nods knowingly and puts her paws on the table, "What will we do till then? Where stay?" Falkenberg chuckles at Denson's comment, but shrugs to Gwilkyn. "For the moment I'd recommend getting an apartment here in town. If you need a little extra cash for that, let me know." Denson reaches for his rifle and puts it on the table, in all its personali zed glory. "Maybe," he says with a light dismissive shrug. "But you're not going to find this weapon anywhere else. She's served me too well in the last couple of years to abandon her for something new." Falkenberg turns and looks at Parias. "Hello, Parias," he says. "Have a seat. Thought you left on some mission for Neidermeyer." Parias nods and sits and says, "Yeah, I am suppose to but I need to contact Helga for mission specifics. Haven't seen her around much lately though." He pauses for a moment and says, "You know it's kind of funny. You all know my name, but I don't know any of yours, except for Zara." Gwilkyn pats the table with one paw, ignoring the others as she looks at Falkenberg, "How much for place to stay here? Ship was first warm sleep place in long time." "Maybe that's because we're cautious enough not to tell everyone that comes around our names," Denson says calmly with a long exhalation of smoke. Falkenberg raises an eyebrow at Parias. "I assumed you had learned by now. But as Neidermeyer has given you his approval, I'll tell you. I am John Christian Falkenberg. Yes, the real one. And my overlarge Ungstiri friend with whom you are acquainted is Denson. The Castori here is Gwilkyn. And the lovely but rather stoned-looking lady is Francesca. She's not always like that." Cesca says, "C'e un dottore in casa?" Zara looks over towards Denson as he comments, and lets a minute frown cross her features but it quickly disappears as she turns back to the others. Falkenberg scratches his chin and looks at Gwilkyn. "I'm not sure," he says. "But here." He slides some credits across the table to Gwilkyn. "You're new, so you'd have the least money. Take this and get yourself a place." Falkenberg gives Gwilkyn 5000 Credits. Parias shrugs to Denson. He then turns to Falkenberg to listen and says sim ply, "I'll be damned." He then looks at Denson, Cesca, and Gwilkyn and says, "Nice to meet you all." He then nods to Zara and says, "And of course Zara here too. Denson simply snorts at Parias and tilts his head a little to glance at Cesca. "What does she need a doc for?" Gwilkyn blinks her small amber eyes at the woman, shaking her head at her w ords, "Not understand." She reaches out her small paw to scoop up the credits, nodding to Falkenberg, grumbling, "Thank you. Any ship you get, I will make better." Zara raises a ring studded eyebrow, "Too?" she asks Parias. Falkenberg frowns. "Eh? Is that what she said? I don't know. Francesca, are you all right?" Cesca appears to be A) in a daze. B) heavily sedated. C) very drunk. D) in some sort of shock. Take your pick. She continues to look at her helmet, but though it is the focus of her gaze, it is not the focus of her thoughts.<= p> Parias nods to Zara and says, "He didn't introduce you. I was just mak ing sure you weren't forgotten." He smiles a bit but then turns back to listen to the conversation. Gwilkyn leans on the table towards Cesca, her small eyes peering at the woman, "Female looks sick." she grumbles. Denson merely shrugs one of his broad shoulders. "I've known enough Italians to understand their gibberish," he simply says. "And she asked if there's a doc in the house, if I'm not too mistaken here." Falkenberg grunts. "Well, there's a coupla docs hovering around on-planet somewhere," he says. "Not sure where they are right now. Maybe at the arena, where I saw them last." Cesca murmurs, "Non capisco cos'e che non va. Mi dispiace davvero," in her husky contralto while she continues to look at her helmet. Falkenberg looks at Denson. "Any clues?" Denson raises a brow. "Not a clue. Looks like she's in some sort of shock to me though. Many people start talking in their first language in that state of daze." Falkenberg frowns and looks at Cesca. "I think you should get somewhere and lie down, Cesca. Maybe to your apartment? I think your ships were destroyed along with the rest." "Female sick." Gwilkyn murmurs, "Should put to bed, sleep cure everything." Cesca gives a short, sharp laugh at Falkenberg's words. Another soon follows and in another few seconds, she is uncontrollably laughing, though it has a strange edge to it. "Definitely a shock," Denson states calmly, leaning back in his chair to focus his attention on the smouldering cigarette between his lips.<= p> "Get cold water." Gwilkyn growls, "Throw on her, make her ge t a grip." Falkenberg studies her curiously. "Um, all right," he says. He looks at the others. "I am going to walk the lady here to her apartment and see that she lies down. I think Gwilkyn is right, and rest is best for her." He stands, taking Cesca's arm. "Francesca dear, come along. " Cesca obediently rises when Falkenberg takes her arm. Absently, she remembers to gather up her helmet, but she waits for him to lead her before moving further... like a dog on a leash. Falkenberg leads her toward the door. He glances at the others. "Get yourselves set up somewhere, and lay low. We'll be better off soon." Denson only marginally turns his head to look at Cesca. "One hundred points for me for knowing in advance that seeing some guy spill his guts wou ldn't exactly make her rejoice," he says casually, apparently not concerned or caring in the least. Gwilkyn nods her snout up and down, "Am right. Sleep cures. She'll be better in morning, give lots honey, lots sleep." Cesca heads into Aurora Strand . Cesca has left. Falkenberg heads into Aurora Strand . Falkenberg has left. Denson grunts to himself as he flicks his cigarette away, the cancer stick hissing out as it hits a puddle of blood. "I'm going to wander the city and see if I find any more idiots that want to dance with me. I feel like driving my fist into someone's guts." He rises to his feet, shrugging his impact rifle into a more comfortable position as he nods down at the Castori. "Later." Gwilkyn lifts her paw in a little wave to Denson and grunts in return. Denson gives the decapitated corpse of Jax a lazy kick as he saunters past the body, boots spluttering through the large pool of blood as the huge man heads out.
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