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+---- Thread: The Drunken Junker (/showthread.php?tid=89738)
RE: The Drunken Junker - FynnMcScrap - 06-15-2014
Meanwhile, at a table in the corner of the Bar :
The lean, black haired joung man with the worn out workoveral under a leather jacket takes up his toolkit and side weapon and adjusts the straps. He seemes relieved and relaxed, as if the buissness meeting just concluded has gone well.
"Thank you for your time and your interest, Mr. Valesquez. And if you have further questions about me, my ship or my dealings in Puerto Rico and the Junker community I will be pleased to help. No Problem here, as I still fly mostly small ships like the *Toolbox* , my sturdy little CSF, I can always speed over without caring much about flight plans or a Crew.
I still remember every single Crewman lost at Tinkers Haven, and I assure you that I will not endager anyone more than myselfe. Im no Hazadeer, just a simple Scrapper."
He shrugges , pain visible in his expression.
"I won´t get myselfe a Salvager at the moment, even though I could afford it. I lost a Crew already. The reasons I explained to you.
Still, Im not finished jet.
I don´t believe there is no place for us Junkers in Liberty.
To much Traders and Freelancers always buy my Scrap, and I´ve got Friends there. We all are grateful that you Folk over here at Puerto Rico hold tight on the entrances to our retreat, and that we can count on your support.
But see... there are a lot of familys at the Stations and even a few at ColdBay and the Bering Freeport that are counting on me.
We are simple Folk, risking our health and our lives in the Fields, always caught between the Libbys and everyone else who thinks he can push us around. And without you all outside here we would probably not even manage to hold Beaumont or Rochester. We are used to surviving, used to dodging and fighting back. And we really appreciate the help of the big salvaging families and crews. "
He sighs, draws a deep breath.
"We aint great heroes. But most of us know what to do in a pinch. When to run, when to fight. And when simply not to be there. If you need us, call. And thanks for your concern, I will pass it on."
He nods, seemingly lost with words.
"Oh well. Work to do.
Thanks for the Invitation and the brainstorming."
RE: The Drunken Junker - WildBill - 07-07-2014
The dim light of the bar normally conceals the sordid business that takes place here. Hiding its patrons and their questionable business contracts in the shadows. Their voices are drowned out by the dull hum of the stations systems, and private dampening fields, converting into a stream of soft whispers. A thick layer of dust has settled on every surface. A grizzled man stands behind the bar, his stoic face reveals nothing of the secrets or information gathered from the whispers around him. This is obviously a Junker's establishment. Just the place I am looking for.
The dust on the floor is only slightly disturbed as the edges of my faded black duster glide along the floor. My black cowboy boots make only a small muffled thud as I approach the bar. Before I sit on one of the worn and dilapidated stools, I take a moment to look around. The few faces that can be seen in the murky air show no signs of recognition. These new Junkers have no idea who I am. This is fortunate. It means that no rumors of my whereabouts have sprung up. There are some who won't be pleased with my sudden reappearance.
The bartender looks at me with calculating eyes. No doubt he has noticed the large silver buckle on my belt. It's really the only item that stands out on my all black garb. Although the engraving has faded, the faint traces of the Congress symbol .:j:. are still etched into the rounded silver buckle. A broad toothy grin spreads across his face as he asks “what'll it be friend?” This is exactly the attention I sought to avoid. Perhaps I should of made an appearance in a different bar. This is, however, the establishment an old friend used to frequent.
I pull my black, bent, and beaten cowboy hat a little lower. No use in keeping my face covered with my black bandana. I know when I've been made. The 'toothy grin' is wiped from the bartenders face as the cloth is pulled from mine. Now I know for sure I have been recognized. “There's a fair amount of people that want you dead.” he states as the shock wears off. My voice is scratchy and guttural from years of almost no use, but I still manage to ask “Any of them folks here?” His eyes quickly scan the room, darting from one corner to the other. “Not that I can see, but your Congress boys will be looking for you and not all of them will be welcoming.” he states.
This is where it gets tricky. Not knowing who to trust is a dangerous thing. I need to be cunning since I've already lost any hope of remaining hidden. There's only one man I know I can trust. Getting him here might be a little difficult. “Hows bout a shot of that top shelf whiskey?” I ask while planning out my next move. As the bartender pours my drink the simplest of solutions hits me. I level an even stare at the bartender. He stands behind the dingy bar, bottle of whiskey in hand, waiting for me to take my shot. I don't, I just wait, and stare.
The bartender starts to get nervous. There is a slight tremble to his lips. Beads of sweat form on his dirty brow. Now's my chance. I break eye contact and throw my head back letting lose a loud crackling laugh. As the echoes of my laugh fade I focus on the bartender again. “The shots for you. Can't imagine what passes for a Junker these days tips well enough for a taste of the top shelf.” I state with a quick wink. He makes a nervous half laugh, and downs the shot as I slap a handful of Sirius Credits on the bar. “There's more where that come from. Now git on them comms an holler at JT. I ain't seen em in a long time. My guess is he'll be wantin to visit with an old friend. Oh, and leave the bottle, I've gone and worked up a thirst.”
RE: The Drunken Junker - nOmnomnOm - 07-10-2014
![[Image: Phil%20Robertson_1387425894678_1669969_v...20_240.jpg]](http://media.10news.com/photo/2013/12/18/Phil%20Robertson_1387425894678_1669969_ver1.0_320_240.jpg)
Mike Hunt walks into the bar, looking around the large room at the activity going on around the place. He was tired from a long days work of hauling scrap and collecting his own little bit for some mechanic work he would do on his own later one. Scraps from carnage here and there were rare but possible to obtain... though hard to bring back at times.He pulls on his long beard, a bit of oil grease and rust on it but he didn't notice nor really care for that matter. It was just a little after all... nothing to worry about.
His lips crave for some good drink... he remembers mama's moonshine from his childhood... boy that was some good stuff down in the country side on Texas. He wonders if there is some here as well.
He scratches his head and looks around some more as he walks in. He heads to the bar counter and sits down at one of the empty stools looking up at the menu of drinks displayed. The bar tender walks over with a wondering eye, looking him over and Mike just nods and brushes his beard to the side, showing off the .:j:. symbol on his new shirt. He was proud to wear it and he showed it in his grin.
The bar tender nods, still wondering who he is but then walks over and asks if he can get anything for him.
"Ye I.. I like one o' dem drink ya got der on dem wall.... A bottl' o' moonshine there ye tender would do me something 'ere!" He nods and slides the credits on the table. The bartender nods and goes to fetch the drink.
Mike leans back a bit looking around. *Maybe der be some pr'ty ladies to chat to.* he thinks. He doesn't seen any around though and shrugs an -oh well- and looks around for someone to start a chat with.
RE: The Drunken Junker - WildBill - 08-07-2014
The bar is in it's normal state of affairs. Dim, dingy, and decrepit. That grizzled old bartender is still standing around pretending not to overhear bits and pieces of conversations. Wasn't too long ago I made a sudden reappearance here. A few were happy to see me, most are pretty upset I'm back. This time there's no need to hide my face. While the need to hide my identity is gone, I would still like to keep this meeting private. “Bottle of the top shelf whiskey, an two glasses” I tell the bartender as I walk past the bar. As I head to a booth in the back I shout “Bring em back here, an keep yer eyes open fer a feller by the name of Loyd. Havin a meetin with one of them new 'Young Guns' what calls themselves Junkers.”
RE: The Drunken Junker - JunkerTown - 08-09-2014
James slumps back into his command chair aboard the tower on San Juan.
After hearing the last transmission from Marcus trying helplessly to defend a Congress convoy in Tau 23.
Under heavy fire taking heavy damage!
Shields offline,
Batteries drained,
Nanobots depleted,
Union Corse has destroyed all Congress vessels.
Initiating ejection sequence protocols.
Engine failure..
Hull breach imminent,
Skull ejector initialized,
EJECTING!!
Head down in his hands, elbows on his console James sits motionless.
Mia who has been at his side thru the entire encounter walks over to her husband.
Placing her hands on his shoulders she bends down and says to him..
Get up babe.. You need a drink.
James gets up and she takes his hand and leads him down to the JunkTown.
A couple of minutes later arriving at La Fortaleza the ship docks and the two make their way into the bar.
Welcome sir and ma'am!
As usual your private room is waiting for you.
Says the bartender.
James nods as the couple heads towards the private lounge.
Passing by the patrons in the bar.. whispers and murmurs can be heard as they go. The two enter the lounge and James has a seat in the corner booth. Mia picks up the carafe and pours them a drink.
RE: The Drunken Junker - Gypsie Skripto - 08-09-2014
Once again Gypsie Skripto walked into the bar anxiously, knowing what story was waiting for him there. He admired the old fashioned decoration for a second time and, once again, stopped by the jukebox and inserted a coin for it to play a song.
Like living in a deja vu, Gyp sat at the bar.
Sup there mate? You're not the barwoman I remembered. Can you bring me a quarter rum anyways?
He then slided a credit chip on the bar.
RE: The Drunken Junker - Crystal - 08-09-2014
Mia sat beside James in their private room, she had been worried about him for a while and it was beginning to show. The look of concern was unusual for her.
"James, babe, talk to me."
The occasional rumor, overhearing conversations in the halls, she had a good understanding of what was happening whether he wanted her too or not. It wasn't hard to see he was stressed. She stole a kiss before cuddling into him. With a sigh, eventually she broke the silence.
"You know this is has become too much for you to deal with on your own.... where is you're Deputy Arbiter?"
RE: The Drunken Junker - LoydWingly - 08-10-2014
I notice a rough looking man walking past me (I am thinking bartender) holding two glasses, and a bottle. I nod my head as he passes. I take of my shades, and slid them into my black leather coat pocket. As I stand there scanning the room I notice the bartender leaving two glasses, and a bottle of what I assume is whiskey at a table. I see a man sitting there in a dark cowboy get up. I make my way to the bar as the bartender looks over with a weird glance. I lean on the bar *The man sitting at the table with the long black duster he wouldn't happen to go by the name of Bill would he?* The bartender turns to me after putting a few bottles away. *Depends are you Loyd?* I catch a slight smirk on the corner of my lips. *Thank you sir I will leave you to your business.* A slight squeak comes about as my black combat boots twist on the floor. I walk on over to the table. *Bill? My name is Loyd I hope your wait was not too long.*
RE: The Drunken Junker - JunkerTown - 08-10-2014
(08-09-2014, 03:00 AM)Crystal Wrote: Mia sat beside James in their private room, she had been worried about him for a while and it was beginning to show. The look of concern was unusual for her.
"James, babe, talk to me."
The occasional rumor, overhearing conversations in the halls, she had a good understanding of what was happening whether he wanted her to or not. It wasn't hard to see he was stressed. She stole a kiss before cuddling into him. With a sigh, eventually she broke the silence.
"You know this is has become too much for you to deal with on your own.... where is you're Deputy Arbiter?"
James picks up his glass of whiskey and slowly swirls the liquor.
His eyes are locked on the drink while his thoughts turn to James Mckenna.
As he is the current Deputy Arbiter for the Congress.
Mckenna has been missing in action for some time and this isn't the first time.
Following Mckenna's last complete medical review and physical the report was alarming.
While the irregularities displayed some rather strange anomalies none seem to be life threatening.
Subsequently he was given a 'clean bill' and returned to his duties as Deputy.
Still it was only after the medical examination results were given to JT and he approved his return.
He has some strong suspicions about what these oddities maybe.
Even going as far as to place a secret remote tracker on Mckenna's ship before releasing him from med lab.
Shortly after his ship departed from San Juan the tracker went offline.
There would be no way that it could've been done from inside the ship.
Plus before the device was disabled the ship was not docked and in flight.
No damage was indicated before it shut down either so the vessel wasn't under attack.
Whatever shut it down did it from the outside while the ship was in full cruise.
All attempts to contact Mckenna or his ship were never responded to.
This made James very nervous and increased his suspicions surrounding his current Deputy Arbiter.
James ponders...
Do I tell her the whole truth?
Do I reveal what I suspect to be happening??
Should I tell her everything and have her sharing in my stress???
Then he remembers..
There isn't enough proof and he is just speculating.
He must be sure before he reveals anything to anyone about this.
Still he does trust her completely and knows she would keep it quiet.
Finally he decides.. Ok perhaps it is best she know now just in case someth...
Just then JT's communicator lights up and an emergency message from San Juan begins.
Sir.. San Juan operations here.
We have picked up Marcus's homing beacon.
He appears to have full life support and is need of extract.
His cranium ejector worked as intended with the brain intact.
Should we send out search and rescue?
James replies
Negative San Juan.
Just stand by I will retrieve him on the JunkTown.
Prepare another combat droid for brain transplantation.
I will contact you once were underway.
Aye, aye sir we will await your transmission.
Signing off.
James turns to his wife and says..
Sorry babe, were gonna have to discuss this later.
I cannot trust anyone to do this or risk losing him now.
She says..
Yes honey I understand..
So since I wouldn't be able to talk you out of going.
Please take me with you!
NO.. Baby I need you here now more than ever.
I am going to be running cloaked under radio silence to do this.
Once were back on SJ I'll be in the lab where no communications are allowed.
It's going to take me at least a week to get him operational again.
So I am going to need to do something I never wanted to do.
But this is an emergency situation and requires my immediate attention.
With everything that is happening I cannot leave the Congress leaderless for a day much less a full week.
Since I cannot find Jim I am going to ask you to watch over things until I get back.
I will grant you the rank of Deputy Arbiter so you can keep an eye on things for me.
It's alot to ask but there isn't much time and my trust these days is in short supply.
Of course I trust you to do what I would want and whats best for the Congress.
So whataya say.. Can you do this for me.. Will you be my DA till I return?
RE: The Drunken Junker - Crystal - 08-10-2014
Even after years of marriage, she hated the idea of being apart for this length of time. But, Mia knew James would have his heart set on rescuing Marcus. Listening to his plan, she reluctantly agreed to stay behind.
"Will you be my DA till I return?"
He had never wanted her to be involved of the politics of the Congress, let a lone help run the group, and Mia was happy with this. She hesitated for a moment
"I.... James, honey, are you sure this is what you want? I mean..."
She stopped and nodded, weighing up the options and eventually she realized he wouldn't ask her if he had any other choice. She spoke softly,
"Don't worry about a thing, I will be your DA until you return... Just make sure you get home to me soon. I don't like it when you are gone long."
She looked up at him from where she was sitting, with a reassuring smile. She moved and kissed him on the cheek. She knew he needed her support, and she intended to help him in any way she was able.