Manhattan bar

[Malaclypse 666]

Marauder finally seemed to ahve reached a decision and stood up, "I'm off to see a guy I know, don't stay up for me or wait around." He then left the sectioned off bar and disappeared.

"Wonder what he's upto now?" markus said thoughtfully.

[snapback]38831[/snapback]

"Ah, the intrigue! The drama! The danger!" Pops offerred as he scrutinized the ice cubes playing tag in his Sapphire and tonic. "How in the Cosmos did humans manage to keep themselves entertained on one little mudball for all those aeons??"

---

[marauder]

Marauder wandered in and wasn't surprised to find everyone still up and drinking.

"Hey guys, I'm back." Marauder sat down and ordered his usual.

"So whats up then?" Markus asked raising his head from the pile of fast-food trays.

"I'm leaving the [IND]." He waited until everyone had quieted down, "I've joined the [RM] to help get rid of all the pirates down there." he sighed heavily, "So this is probably gonna be my last time in here."

"Ok! lets turn this into a leaving party!" markus cried.

[romer]

"Oh man, that's sobering news indeed. Well, then...drinks all around. We'll send you off with a proper shindig. No need to get all emotional. Oh...I promised myself I wouldn't do this... I'm getting verklempt...talk amongst yourselves..."

---

[Nightfall]

'Drinks all around!' cryed Pat when he realised what's up 'Our routes pass through Rheinland, we'll be looking for pirates there - if you leave any for us! Drinks! Drinks! Guess the boss will call another round of 'em on the house? Manuel is still there.'

---

If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God? - from 'Nightfall' by I. Asimov
The Outcasts consider Siniestre Nube a sacred place for several reasons. Early explorers discovered a jumphole within the depths of the cloud that leads to a strange world of ringed stars and strange craft. All ships in the burrial ground are placed facing that hole to honor the Alien Spirits. - An Outcast rumor

[marauder]

"Hey!" Markus called out, "Someones been hacking my nural net account*."



***OOC***

Theres been no hacks of any sort, I'm just using this as an RP excuse to explain why I transfered some cash to a pirate character earlier today.

[Malaclypse 666]

"Markus! Have a seat, Lad! Perhaps we can ameliorate your losses with a little liquid libation." said Pops dryly.

"And the rest of you lot can make fun of an old man if you want, but I've decided to do this trading thing in conjunction with another "enterprise". Someone's been profiting from this rampant sector inflation, and I intend to get my share. I've just slapped my "Daddy Warbucks" registry on one of Curacao's top-of-the-line pleasure barges. At 30,000 plus tonneage, she won't be goin' anywhere very fast; but my customers will be payin' (through the nose, heh..) for comfort and safety, not speed."

"I've also had a "special" auxilliary cargo hold constructed which will pass most scans with a clean bill; and, a reinforced vault that'll withstand anything short of an anti-proton blast. So if any of you require "white glove" treatment for funds or exotic shipments, the Daddy W. is your ticket."

I'm planning a little shakedown over to the Sigmas as soon as the staterooms are all booked. I have one suite of rooms permanently reserved for you IND lot; so if you've forgotten the smell of new leather, or the taste of Curacao caviar, join me for a little R&R. I promise to go easy on you at the Baccarat table.."

---

[onca]

Cabover Pete's vision turns from black to a blurry grey, thence clears somewhat to reveal a bank of blinding fluros overhead. His eyes swing and wobble uncertainly until they lock onto six white-garbed figures standing over him. They are sporting what looks like an Ageira logo on their coveralls.

"He's awake!" one exclaims.

"It's a miracle!" breaths another.

One older face bends over Pete. "Sir, are you you alright!" it says loudly, as though Pete were a deaf foreigner.

There is a pounding in Pete's head like every "Tap Dogs" gig ever performed, and his mouth tastes like the toilet from "Trainspotting".*

*Pete has a penchant for late 20th/early 21st century Earth kulture.

A sore croaking works its way out of Pete's dry mouth. "Wha happen? Who'r you?"

"I'm Doctor... er... Smith," says the face bent over Pete. "We're not sure what happened, we're hoping you could tell us. You were brought in comatose from Manhattan bar. We were sure we'd lose you."

"Huh?" moans Pete.

"We pumped your stomach. It was unbelievable the substances which came out!" said Dr. Smith. "Do you have any enemies? Is there anyone who would profit by your death?"

"My death?" groans Pete.

"It was if some cruel monster had force-fed you MOX!"

Through the haze in Pete's mind, he recalls drinking mulitple Exploding Xenos or Corsair Gargleblasters or something like that. "I wondered what the secret ingredient was," mumbles Pete.

Dr Smith straightens and addresses his colleagues. "He's rambling, poor fellow. He may be awake but I'm not sure his mind will recover, with the beating it took. Not to mention his liver." He shakes his head ruefully.

Recovering a modicum of his faculites, Pete realises he had a hold full of Luxury Goods on the pad waiting to go. "Doc, how long are you keeping me in here?"

Dr Smith bends over Pete again. "A while, I'm afraid. For that evil stuff to work its way out of your system. Five weeks, at least."

Pete shudders, and blackness envelopes him once more.

<ooc>Guys this is to explain why I've been scarce over the past week, and why I'm gonna scarcer for the next five. I'm going on holidays to the US :lol: I'll post in the other forums for everyone to see.

o.

[Fellow Hoodlum]

"Pete old man, sounds like you got off lightly. Just a stomach pump ... Those babies have
been the cause of many a multiple organ transplant before now. You must have got hold
of an old mixture, recently the fire services have outlawed the contents of one or two of
the branded cocktails here ... Extreme fire hazard and danger to health, or some such
rediculous accusations.
Never did me any harm ... Though don't ever light a cigarette if I burp, I cannot be held
responsible for any collateral damage ...
Hope your stay in the hospital is an enjoyable one, shame you havn't left us the keys to
your ship ... Though at least its luxury goods, not food of the same ilk. The thing would
be bloody ripe when you got back from the health farm.
Have a good one." ...

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[Fellow Hoodlum]

"Careful with that bunting, Sophie. Don't want the punters tripping and suing us ...
Put the big screen over there please.
Bloody Corsairs, Flaming Xenos and any other sodding pirate on sale on sale from now
on. Hangovers are an option. Terms discussed. Bars back in motion"

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[marauder]

"Which direction is the bar in motion?" Markus slurred, "I mean is it the usual spinning if you get up too fast or the really freaky ceiling-is-moving-like-a-trampoline?"

Markus shrugged, "Not that it bothers me, I intend to be sleeping through the whole day, wake if something useful happens, like a rain of money..."