Karadin

[Stoat]

Karadin docked at Trafalgar base in New London. Bretonian space was crawling with police and the armed forces, and he didnt fancy trying to explain his presence to over-eager, and trigger happy navy pilots. The Junkers were a very useful group to know, and had provided him sanctuary on numerous occasions.

He strolled into the bar on G deck and bought himself a drink. As he leaned back against the counter he spotted a small group of Corsairs laughing at a table on the far side of the establishment. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to their table.

Hola, my friends, he said as he approached. May I join you? Four heads turned to face him.

That they were drinking, and were in good moods anyway, helped. After a quick glance at his friends one of them spoke. Why not?! Come, take a seat, join us! Perhaps you can entertain us with some stories? We are very fond of stories, eh, mis amigos!

They laughed and pushed a chair towards him. Karadin smiled with relief as he sat. Many thanks. It has been a lonely time for me. It seems that most people have forgotten the enjoyment to be had from new friendships and shared experiences. My name is Karadin, and it is my pleasure to meet you.

Karadin? asked one of the Corsairs. I have heard your name before, hermano, though, for the life of me, I cannot remember where. I am Chico, and this is Juan, Hector and Pepe.

Chico Gonzales? Karadin exclaimed. The surprise on the Corsairs face was his answer. Maasaalla! We crossed paths weeks ago in Omega-41, near the jump hole to 47. You near told me your life story in the hour or so we were talking, and then you vouched me to the Fes! I owe you a debt of thanks, my friend.

The smile on Chicos face widened as he too remembered. It seems our paths are tied, amigo. Drink, tell. We have time to burn!

Several hours later, Karadin was the first, though not the last, to pass out at the table.

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My Stories