The Buccaneers Bay

[Dawnrider]

David wandered behind the bar, checking for any alcohol therein. Procuring a bottle, her leant on the bar, looking at Mick.

"Aye, we do, but I don't how successful we'll be, Mate."

He pulled the top off the bottle and took a long swig, before planting it down firmly on the bar.

"Last I heard a good few of 'em either got caught, or packed in the pirating life."

---

[AdamantineFist]

A dapper, well-dressed man walked into the old room, an equally well-dressed woman on his arm. Following them was an imposing man who looked rather more at home among the clientele that had once frequented the Bay, with a nose broken so many times it was impossible to tell what shape it had been originally. As the dapper man swept his cold, calculating gaze across the now rather run-down room, a faint smile crept across his face. Something about the way he moved, the look in his eyes, it all gave a hint as to how this man had earned the nickname "Lucifer". Edward Blackburne sauntered into the old bar, smiling at the men he had worked with.

"Hello, lads. Good to see you again."

---

[Dawnrider]

David looked up from his bottle, a broad smirk spreading across his face.
"Well, well. If it isn't old Lucy."
He uttered a short laugh at his own wit, and straightened up to look at Edward, dusting down his trench coat in the process.

"I didn't expect others to turn up this soon. What, did ye follow us?" he asked, before gesturing with his bottle at the Lady on Lucifer's arm.

"And I'm not sure I remember this fine lassie with ye. Care to introduce?"

---

[Darkard]

Mick had brushed a clearing in the dust from the table infront of him.

"Fella's this reunion is all well and good, but I'm going to go out and steal us up some cash to get this place up and running again." Mick stood up from his seat. "When you have all finished kissing and being nostalgic at each other your welcome to join me."

And with that Mick walked out.

---

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<div align="right">QFT</div>

[Navarone]

As Mick heads towards the door, he notices a short, slim man in a black suit, black shirt, black tie, and black hat, leaning jauntily against the doorframe of the entry to the pub.
A starburst tatoo surrounds his right eye, and his arms are crossed in front of him. From his belt you can see the hilt of a blade of some sort, inches from his hand. The wood and steel look well worn.

"Mack, is it?" he asks with a rich New London accent.
"I understand ye're lookin' ta start some trouble." he says with a smile and a nod, his blue eyes gleaming with mirth. "Trouble's me specialty, mister."

His left foot comes down from the wall, and he veritably slides away from it, standing now. he offers his black gloved hand.

"Name's Drake, ol' chap. MacAllistair Drake. Most call me Mac." He smiles, showing crooked teeth.
"Want some comp'ny?"

---

[Darkard]

Mick looked down at the offered hand and considered the proposal for a moment.

"Alright Mac" Mick took his hand and shook it "I'll see you out in space. Lets see what we can dredge up eh?"

As the two walked down to the Hangars Mick gave his companion a sidways glance. It would have been a lie to say that Mick wasent a little bit intimidated by Mac's appearance.

"So, you a former undertaker or somthing? Whats with all the black?"

---

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<div align="right">QFT</div>

[Darkard]

Mick had gone and now he was back.

He stumbled in through the doorway with a large crate in his hands. The markings on the crate were that of Orbital Spar and Cruise.

"We got some presents for you lads!" Shouted Mick as he dumped the crate down on the floor and kicked it over, spilling its contents.

One of the recent batch of new Prospects kneeled down and picked up a handheld games device from the pile.

"Hey, this is good stuff" he said turning the device over in his hands before Mick snatched it away.

"Yeah mate, Good stuff you get last pick off" said Mick.

The Prospect looked confused for a moment, he was new to the Buccaneers and thought the treatment of newcomers was only a rumour. He was quickly getting used to the fact that it was real. He looked up at Mick for a moment as if he wanted to say somthing, but Mick stared him down. In the end the prospect slinked away to a table and watched as the Buccaneers rumaged through the crate.

---

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<div align="right">QFT</div>

[AJBeast]

Sofia strolled into the bar, her pet cat clinging to her shoulder, visibly scared. She stood next to Mick and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Nice work there Mick. Although, if you didn't play games and stuck the gun closer to the bastard's neck we might have gotten a bigger load."

Mick let out a visibly annoyed grin, perhaps because of the speech or the hissing, tail-flinging Gaian cat-like monstrosity threatening him.

"What the hell is wrong with that thing?"

"Remember that Pelican we hit that had all those Gaian animals? Yeah, well, remind me not to open a bay full of that next time with this lil' bastard on my shoulder. Almost clawed my bloody eyes out."

She leaned towards the crate filled with goodies and smiled towards a dumbfounded Prospect.

"Ever heard ladies first?"-she said, kicking the Prospect in the face, making him scurry off back into the darkened depths of the bar.

Sofia took a bunch of random objects and held them under one arm. Taking her usual seat at the bar, she dropped them all on the counter. She turned to one of the new barmen.

"Bring me some fancy cocktail and a bowl of milk."

[Navarone]

Mac fumes in the docking bay while kicking his ancient Mafic repeatedly.
As Mick and company swagger past on thier way back from a recent heist, arms full of booty, he grins half-heartedly, and shrugs.

"Th' blasted plasma injectors are all gummed up again, matey" he says to Mick. " I really ought to trade this ol' bird in for somethin shiny like 'at ship ye've got there." He points.

The charr marks and dents on his outdated Mafic make it look a bit like a childs toy that's been handed down through three or four brothers. Leaning against it, he slams his heel into it angrily.

"Soon's I do, lads.." he doffs his ever present ancient bowler to Sofia. "Sorry, an' lass, I'll be good ta go. I certainly got th' creds fer one. This rotten git of a shep may not start but her Supernova's dead-on ev'ry bloody time. Tha' yellow BMM chap wif all'at gold ore on 'im found out th' 'ard way too." he grins again, shiftily. " Sold it fer a tidy profit as well. Junkers payed fer his hull." he smirks. "Just lookin' fer a model wha' suits me purpose, is all, really. Any suggestions?"

"Aye, an' to yer earlier question, good sir...The black I wear is so tha' ya can't see me move, all ye see is this..." He flicks his hand open, and a gleaming dirk dances on its tip in the palm of his hand, appearing there almost magically. It falls over and begins to whirl around his black gloved-fingers as if it had a mind of it's own. His crooked-toothed grin is pure evil now.

---

[Wolfs Ghost]

As the barman walked away to get Sophia's drinks and bowl of milk, a figure appeared from the back of the room, an area that was originally marked as the briefing room, the Lieutenants quarters. The figure had a white mask with no eye hole covering the right side of his face.

A couple of people in the room hushed as the heavy footsteps stomped across the metal flooring, whispers of "Is that..." could be heard around the room. The man stopped in the middle and looking up from the floor, looking around and smiling briefly. "Well chaps. It's good t' see the Buccaneers are here, with a new face." He said as his lone eye settled on MacAllister. "A lad that seems t' know his profession in knives. Could come in handy."

His smile turned to a smaller one, Let's see how long it takes for them to guess. He thought, looking around slowly. The room had by now fallen silent as majority of the Buccaneers continued to stare at him.

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