Nobody was entirely certain why there was a Corsair in the bar. Maybe he'd become very lost, maybe he had come in from Bretonia to scope out possible piracy opportunities in Liberty. Possibly he'd just dropped off a load of artifacts on Rochester.
Whatever it was, this Corsair was now finding himself being glowered at by approximately fifty per cent of the bar's population. Said fifty per cent were being carefully watched by the other fifty per cent, who were Junkers, and the Junkers knew that what they didn't want was trouble.
Unfortunately, that was precisely what one drunken Hacker wanted. Disgusted that nobody had so far done something about the Corsair, he picked up a chair and broke it across the man's back.
The Corsair angrily stood up and punched the Hacker across the face.
The ensuing brawl ended up being mostly between the Corsair (a formidable fighter in his own regard), the Rogues and Hackers (who wanted to cause grievous bodily harm to the Corsair) and the Junkers (who wanted to stop the fight before it smashed up their bar). Eventually it just degenerated into an uncontrolled melee.
The fight was stopped by three shots being fired into the air. Everybody froze, some mid-strangle.
A young woman was standing in the doorway, flanked by two huge bodyguards, holding a smoking pistol in the air. It was her that had fired the shots.
"Who started this?" she demanded, and the Junkers in the crowd quickly brought the Hacker and Corsair forward.
"It was him!" the Corsair said. "He hit me!"
"Yeah, well, Corsairs shouldn't be here!"
"Shut up!" She pointed to the Hacker. "Tie him up and throw him in the back of a CSV, then take him to the Huntsville. The LPI can deal with him."
As the Hacker was dragged away kicking and screaming, the Corsair looked at her with relief. "Thankyou, amiga..."
"Him too," the woman said, and the Corsair was promptly dragged off too, cursing in Spanish.
Amy Carmichael, Director of Liberty Operations for the Junkers Congress, sat down at the bar. "I hate troublemakers," she remarked, motioning for a drink.
Perry walked up to the doorman and, dressed in a outfit that went out of fashion somewhere in the previous centery.
"what's with the threads? where'd you dig them up?" said the bouncer
"a fellow sold it to me, it fit and was a steal, comfortable and holds twice the stuff as my old one" he replied
"It looks like an old DSE suit, retro.."
"Lad, you gonna take my guns or what?"
"ok"
Perry deposited two Bretonian Railpistols, a RFP airtazer and a small lazer pistol into the container
"geez, is that all? why not carry a Daumann Shredder in your front pocket, leave holes LF's, Ironclad"
pretending not to listen, Perry stepped into the bar.
"A Synthlamb and pickled hispanic onion sandwitch with extra rumsauce thanks"
Boris watched the scene,stuck to his chair.
Rochester had been quite noisy and brutal those days.He was somewhat worrying,because he forgot how to use his homemade monster of a rifle,the Lanakovitch LK-01.
While he was desperately thinking about how to reload manually in case of a malfunction from the magazine,a problem which happened sometimes,Sprolf tapped him on the shoulder and told him :
"She's still waiting for you,Boris."
He blushed,and turned in the direction of the lady.Indeed,she was still looking at him,with a surprisingly insistent look.
"Right",he said."There are times to think,and time to act.I'm done thinking."
Throwing a last,determined look at Samuel Sprolf,as if he was going to war,Boris stood up,looking around him to make sure that no one would blast/stab/strangle/rape him on his way and carefully walked up to the lady's table.
I wish Noam could see that.
He asked her politely,
"Greetings,sweet lady,princess of my dreams,jailer of my eyes.May I join you ?"
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.
"Jane" Was trying to hold back her laughter at how shy this man was, she gave him a smile and beckoned him over, he walked over very slowly, just when she was about to say hello he opened his mouth....
"That is a hell of a way to greet someone i must say, sure you may sit down"
Now all "Jane" needed to do was find out who he worked for and build on any information she could get.
"So tell me, what is your name and where do you hail from... My name is Jane"
With that she took a sip of her coffee and try her best to appear nonchalant........
Boris took a seat so that he would be able to look at his friend and winked at him,discreetly pointing at his own labcoat.
He looked deeply in Jane's eyes.
"Jane ! That is a nice sounding name,although I must say it's not quite as charming as your eyes,ma'am.
My name is Boris Ignatevitch Lanakov,but that name by itself puts me into trouble whenever I step into administrative paperwork,for obscure reasons.The fact that I have two...well,rather activist brothers doesn't help with my record.Thus my presence here.I was born in New Ost-Berlin,so that would also cause me a fair amount of problems here those days."
He said that quite naturally,as if everyone had two brothers working in one of the most feared,terrorist-considered organisations in Sirius and a name that was enough to justify a century of imprisonment.
"Make no mistake,though,dear mysterious lady,I am no criminal like many of the patrons here.I'm just a honest professor always on the edge of laws.But that's a requirement in situations like mine...What about you,dear Jane,tell me more about yourself."
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.
The man with the big mustache came back to the bar as ever cautious this time, as he knows he isn't quite welcome here, but hell he doen't care cause the beer is darn good in here.
He then heads up to the bar and sits down on one of the stools there and orders a beer.
When he came in , he couln't help to notice a man wearing a white lab suit.
"Magnifico, this might be my lucky day! Hopfully.." he thinks to him self.
The man rushes to the man with the white lab suit and takes out a glowing object out of his backpack.
"Hola senior, my humblest of appologize to you both for interrupting your conversation, but would you be interested in these fine nomad artifacts." and puts the glowing object on the counter.
"These are not JUST artifacts from Crete , these are rare one of a kind"
without order nothing exists, without chaos nothing evolves
Julia took a deep breath as this was the moment of truth, her story needed credibility afterall.
"Well Mr Boris, I am ex Navy and I needed a place to lay low for a while... I fired on my wingman and crippled his ship after........." Julia was rudely interrupted mid sentence by an hysterical man showing off some artefacts, and since this was contraband it immediately got her attention.
"Artefacts you say? Well I happen to be a collector, may I see them?"
These were no mere trinkets, they glowed with what seemed like amazing power...
A weapon of some sort? This is disturbing on how they got into New York, I need to contact my superiors.. But wait you cant, not here I would be killed on the spot
She handed back the artefacts and looked at Boris and waited for his opinion on them, he seemed like an expert......
Man rushes in to artifact smuggler saying: "Are you stupid or what, come here!" Man then leads him to quiet corner and whispers: "Those artifacts *** *** ******* we get much **** credits. After big powers realise **** ** *** ******* they will **** it badly and will be ******* to **** ** freaking bankloads of ******* *** it. But we wont *** ******** if we get killed or liberty **** **** **** of our ****** plan. But they wont *** ** for so much ** **** **** get all artifacts, **** want exclusive control **** technology."
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