Well, there are many ways to serve Them. First of all, you should believe in Them, and most of all, understand Them. The Guardians do not like humans in their worlds, hell, I even think I'm the only one allowed to go there. So, my suggestion for a start is to stay out of their worlds.
Stefan made a little pause and drank some more tequila.
Listen to your soul. If They want you to help Them, They will send you some kind of a sign. Believe me, you don't want to feel the pain I did when all started. In general, They have to inform you in order for you to directly help Them.
And also, you don't want to become what I am, believe me. The responsibility is above the level of huge, not many humans can handle it.
Then he changed the topic.
As for the relations between Raiders and Ghosts, I am not really responsible for that. My rank isn't that high as it might look like. I'm rather one of the most trusted persons out of the High Command, and my word has some weight. I can talk to Administrator Garrison, but no promises though. It will be totally up to him and the others from the High Command.
With that said, Stefan leaned back in his chair and drank some more tequila.
Understandable, I know already about their world. We do understand them but people started to loose belief.
They feel alone to say and yes, you could talk with Administrator and High Command.
I believe that is all then. You could visit Golden Sheik if you wish and enjoy in our bar and our drinks. Or contact mister Bainbridge if you want to visit New Dawn and have some fun with girls and other things.
I should go now and, try to fix things, have good time Stefan.
He takes last smoke and puts down cigarette, then he walks away
<"From Darkness, lead me to Light. From Ignorance, to Truth. From Death, to Immortality.">
In the darkest corner of bar sits a person surrounded by empty bottles. And one unfinished. All his friends left the bar hours ago, only he stays, mumbling and wiping dew from his last beer as drunkards do.
A newcomer came for one drink, his eyes meets with eyes of man and he shivers.
''Who is that....crock?'' whispers to barman.
''O`Bleek called 'beermaster', he used to be pilot but now....you see''
''What happened to him?'' ''Nobody knows, you can ask him but he will send you to hell for sure''
Newcomer takes his drink and approaches to man. But aura of desperation floating around man pushes him to sit further but close enough to hear his drinking mutter.
''....whats the point of everything...where to go....what to do....whats life worth without....''
Newcomer cannot withstand it anymore, he stands up and asks anxiously:
''Who are you, what happened?'' ''I am beggar of my life walking through gloomy land. And what happened? I`ll tell you...but not today''
Man shows poor sad smile, yawns and his head slowly goes down to the table covered by spilt beer. Newcomer finishes his drink, looks at sleeping man for a last time and leaves. Man winces, evil dreams has come again.
...but real nightmare starts with dawn.
No, I won't update my account to enable 3rd party hosting!
5 months...That's how much time has passed since the last time Samantha
was on Malta and it wasn't due to an overdue vacation either. Half of the time she was away from Malta,
Samantha was literally a step away from death, broken, burnt and frozen in the open space. Even the
doctors at the Canaria medical centre didn't quite know how she survived, perhaps she was just too damn
stubborn to give up on life.
After checking up with her squadron mates and a quick visit home, she decided it was high-time to see an
old friend...the only one she missed really.
Fast forward....The sun was high up in the sky, the birds were singing and everything was pretty much
idyllic except the absolutely monstrous hangover Sam had, her head literally felt as if her brain was
featured in an episode of "Will it blend" and the fact that she slept over with her clothes and make up wasn't
helping much either...Pause...Too far...Rewind
The Meteora a fancy new bar that opened only days before she got mangled up like an old banger in a
Junker demolition derby. Her plans of visiting the place early were cut short by a nuclear explosion and a
plasma shot to the cockpit, however the fancy bar was the set place for the reunion with her friend.
She walked in wearing a classy "little black dress" and high heels, not one bit concerned or ashamed
because of the robotic prosthesis which now replaced her right leg. Several of the bar patrons promptly
checked her more...organic attributes before starring at the robotic leg like it was something that could
murder their children and rape their wives.
Sam found a nice little empty, sat down, and patiently waited for the waiter to arrive.
[color=#FFFF66]"What would you like ma'a..."
[color=#FFCCCC]"A bottle of Bretonian Blue Label whiskey, please"
[color=#FFFF66]"Right away!"
A minute later the waiter arrived with the distinctive angular bottle of the whiskey, opened it and poured a little bit in the glass.
[color=#FFCCCC]"Thanks"
Sam picked up the glass and took a tiny sip...then took another significantly longer.
[color=#FFCCCC]"Oh how I missed you, you old bastard..."
Death Runner took the bottle from her and drank a bit of it slowly. The bottle was placed back down on the table as it's holder stared at it for a moment, then back at Samantha, thinking.
"Military.. Perhaps, perhaps. I don't know what I would call myself. Military? Researcher? Smuggler? Boss? Politician? Hah. I touch on each of those, I suppose.. Anyways.. I come here for different reasons. Sometimes business, sometimes pleasure, sometimes just to get away and feel normal for once. Though we all have a place in this world, and eventually one must return to where he belongs.."
Samantha took a big sip from her glass and stared at it for a while before saying
[color=#FFCCCC][size=small]"Indeed....heh 6 months ago I was discussing politics with Jameson, commanding a squadron and happily getting drunk on the station I managed...then bang, game over Sam, but I guess coming back to that special place was all it kept me going."
She took another sip and smiled sincerely
[font=Palatino Linotype] "And it seems once in every million years you get lucky and get everything back. Well...except that business with Jameson, any ideas what happened to him anyway? Oh and I didn't quite get your name"
"Jameson.. Don't know exactly what happened to him. Our leaders come and go, when there is no one to bear the burden with them. Too much to handle for one man I'd imagine. A whole damn nation. Who bloody cares anyways? The dead are dead until proven otherwise. Best we move on and forget about the past. Now we've got Garrison. He's a good man and I've got faith in him."
The man sat back a bit and looked around.
"Oh. And the name's Death Runner. Pleasure to meet you captain."
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