Rochester Inn

[Mr.Fabulous]

Clif smelled the alcohol coming, and knew that he'd have a hangover to drink off the next morning. The man was undoubtedly coming to him. Clif had seen him speak to Winston and now he was on his way.

"Care te enjoy yerself with some refreshments? I'll warn ye though... The alchohol in this here drink be a bit... concentrated, HAHAHA!!!"

Finishing the remaining half of his beer and smashing the can seemed a good a response as any. He stood to meet the man and took a chance to notice that the man was a Junker. An armed Junker. A Junker with at least one artificial limb. The observations were made in quick succession, and he looking the man in the eye and nodded, grabbing one of the mugs.

"So, I'm assuming that you're here because of my discussion with the venerable Winston?"

Katarn confirmed Clif's suspicions and introduced himself. The Junker had a uproarious sense of humor and seemed to enjoy everything, especially the grog. But the way that he wore his weapon spoke to his experience in less pleasant situations. But there was nothing for it now, Clif had stuck his head in it, like he always did, and had to ride this one out. He took a chug of grog and tried to begin, but coughed instead. Apparently, the Junkers made it a little stronger than on Alcatraz. Just a touch, he thought as Katarn busted into another laughing fit that almost sent the thick dark alcohol through his nose.

Clif chuckled and wiped the grog from the side of his own mouth and began. "Well, what I told Winston is the whole of it, I'm looking to get a hold of a Recycler. Now, I know that these things are built from scrap and salvage, but I also know that they're Junker constructions. I wouldn't up an' buy one without their say-so. Might be bad for my health."

Another swig of grog and he continued, "So ya know, it won' be sitting lanes. I've got a Barghest to do that. I need this boat for one thing, protecting Rogues. My boys go up through the Taus to do some smuggling, and what do we run into? Conscientious objectors. Not the peaceful kind either, oh no, that'd be too easy. This kind don' like our cargo, want us to spill it. Our transports need some protection up that way. Well, I'm not looking to take my expensive Barghest out that far and risk it so that others can make bank. That Recycler of yours is cheap to fix, if anything gets broken, and won't draw the attention that my other fighters would. The thick hide and sharper teeth are just a bonus."

Katarn nodded throughout the story and grunted in all the right parts. Clif thought that he might be making some progress with the man, but one could never be sure with a Junker. "I've a few other plans to possibly expand our... shipping in the future, and the ship would be used there as well. Other than that, it'll get docked at Buffalo. Might come out to nip some bounty boys heels when they get too close to the base," Clif said laughing. Another large swallow of the grog, and his vision noticeably decreased. Powerful alcohol. Rather drunk he continued, "An' truf be told, I do love me a big fat fleet'a ships. Heh. I've collected me 'bout all the Rogues make, n' now this one. Don' get me wrong, it ain' gonna jush sit'n collect dust neither, all me beauties get ta stretch their legs." Clif finished his mug, and keeping from falling off the chair took a good portion of his attention. "So 'nother one?"

Katarn's face couldn't control it any longer: he burst out with laughter so hard it almost started to rock the mugs that lay on their table, "HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAH!!! Ye be drunk already, laddy?! HAHAHAHA! I expected more o' yer build te handle such measly 70% alchohol content!


"But anyway, laddy... Here. I need ye te be fine fer the talk we be havin, eh?" He dug deep into one of his right outer-trench-coat pockets with his left robotic arm, and fashioned out a blue, crescent-shaped pill from his construct hand, [color=#99FFFF]"... This be helpful in yer state o' mind... Please, take it, laddy!"


Clif, being the cautious sort, didn't take it very well to be offered drugs from out of the blue... but his wide grin... didn't show any sign of deceit...And besides: this is probably better than a hangover, right?


He reluctantly grabbed the pill with his thumb and pointing finger, and chucked it down his mouth... In a few seconds the drug took its effects, and suddenly Clif's vision and balance were quickly starting to come back... " ... Thanks..."


"Aye, no need te thank me, lad... WINSTON! GET US S'MOR GROG, HAHAHAHAHA!" He snapped his fingers in the air in a calling fasion to the innkeeper.




"But..." Katarn's eyes narrow down deeply to stare directly at Clif's eyes, his jolly grin still holding its place, "... In all seriousness, laddy... Yer logic not be too far-off, in fact... The Recycler be a good ship fer combing the far reaches o' Sirius, and in a place as junked as the Taus Systems by the Bretonian-Kusari War Wrecks floatin all round it be easy te find replacement parts fer the thing...


"The only problem being... Politics be a..." The old veteran waved his hand in a circular fashion, "... Fickle thing at best... If ye intend te take the fight te yer enemies, I'd be more than willing te help ye, lad, HAHAHA!!! Could be lots o' fun, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAH!!!


"Yet I don't think the Junkers be likin it fer their best ship te be fightin off these... objectionists, ye say? Ye haven't even mentioned yet who these objectionists be, lad. To have the Junkers' pride and joy o' a ship be tryin te destroy some potential allies in such a... fun environment, would be a big no no, as far as I can tell, eh?


"Sooo..." Winston arrived with another tray of Black Grog, "... How's about this: Ye give me the full details as te what yer intending te fight, and I try to see what I can do fer ye, see?" He proceeds to drown another Black Grog and, after finishing said drink in a few seconds, continued on, "... Don't worry, lad... The drinks are on me... HAHAHAHAHAAAAH!!!"

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