THE ADVENTUROUS LIFE OF A LOUSY COWBOY, ISSUE #1
21 May 2016Mike Syron
Present, System: BD-13 2439, Outpost Abbot SurveyPlace: „Broken Motivator“
The bar with its ridiculous name was infamous for being such a boring place that its guests picked a fight regularly for no reason. This shouldn’t be any different today, Mike was foreboding. The bad mood was already cooking for while, the air smelled of frustration, testosterone and old sweat. About fifteen guys were hanging around, two, three younger ones at a play table and a few of older age at the bar. The music that was playing had been pretty popular on Leesti once - when the first settlers gained ground there a thousand years ago.
Women were avoiding this place most of the time like dirty men’s toilets, unless they were of the same kind themselves, looking for decent load of alcohol and some fun with fists and broken bones. Of all the barkeeper offered was cheap industrial made whiskey and something that tasted like the melancholic memory of some beer that had been a good one when you were younger, but which actually was always made of piss from space rats.
Mike knew this place very well. When his lousy father still shuttled between this system and Orishpucho for years, he always ended up being drunken at this bar after a day full of work. Younger Mike had been laying in one of those sleeping-coffins already, they offer here as accommodation, dreaming of adventures far far away or hoping to be back in Orishpucho soon, where his mom was always waiting for him and his father with some good food and lemonade, resp. cold beer.
It was pure chance - or just destiny - that older Mike just ended up being here himself after finishing the dirty job of removing someone ugly from the list of someone else. After such job it felt right to be here, he thought tired, nipping on his beer can.
The guy whose corpse now was orbiting the sun of Masans had been a threat to the local corporation, his marvelous „reputation“ included slave trading, murder, pirating and just being a colossal asshole since the day he put his butt into a pilot’s seat. So no reason to feel bad at all? Mike wasn't this kind of man, he was way to soft-hearted for this kind of business, he had to do it because that guy just had been a really colossal asshole - and because of the money of course. The latter didn't make him feel any better … ( That’s what happens if you let your kid read comics like „Utopian Tales Of Captain Goody-Two-Shoes“ or some crap like that. Mike really should have read „Captain Starbuster’s Adventures“ instead, especially the issue, where Starbuster blew up a whole planet after one of his mean arch enemies tried to hide between democrats who dared to think they could protect that chicken-shit from an earnest imperial officer. )
Mike had his seventh tallboy already when someone decided that it was a good idea to accompany him. The unknown droughty man with an unshaved thirty-something face strolled to his table, showing a somewhat nasty grin and a strange gaze, and took the chair just in-front of him. Alright, Mike thought to himself, the evening was just about to get more fun.
„Hey, name's Lambert.“ the man greeted him. His teeth had seen better days, also his nose.
„Hey, Lambert. Call me Mike.“
„'That Viper on dock three yours?“
„This outpost hasn’t got a lot of docks, buddy. So everyone here always knows which ship belongs to whom.“
Lambert raised his hands in defense, showing some amusing bafflement. „Oh, excuse me, master pilot! - I’m trying to start a nice conservation here. - No offense!“
Mike drew a deep breath and forced himself to show a little smile. „Sorry - Yes, I’m flying that Viper from dock three. You like it?“
„Oh, yeah. It’s an impressive piece of craftsmanship, no question. I like the paint job you’ve got there, it looks like shit. - How’s it equipped?“
„With loads of good stuff - Are you trying to get me into a sales talk?“ Mike smirked.
„No, no ... Just asking! Grade A reactor? Or B?“
„B. With all the stuff I put into it’s … yes, it’s a bit underpowered already. Fourteen point three megawatts of power still aren't enough. I’m thinking of replacing it.“
„Geesh - what the hell did we got here? A deadly monstrosity? A killing machine?“ Somehow it was unclear if Lambert just was mocking him up or telling him his honest opinion.
Mike bit his lips for a moment, a faint pain hit his heart. „Uhm … well, it’s some kind of jack of all trades, you know? I’m a freelancer most of the time, I need to be prepared. It’s more of a working horse, capable of doing more than one thing.“
„Yeah, freelancer - who isn’t one in these days, ey? Corporations suck.“
„Mh-mh.“
„But you’re a cowboy as well, aren’t you? Because this place here is for cowboys. - You know that?“
„Yep, I know. - Heh, silly thing being a cowboy in space thou. Don't you think?“
Lambert showed a crooked smile. „Oh, cowboys are cool! Honorable! And tough on top of that! Like stone old pig leather or something ... “
„Perhaps they’re just a bunch of drunken assholes with guns and an unhealthy attitude.“ Mike replied without irony.
„Don’t be so bitter, comrade! Life’s to short for that. And people like you help others. They keep the machine running, they go where nobody else goes. They’re relentlessly and unresting pursuing greater goals and …“
„Uh, come on! - You’re kidding me. Stop that trash!“
Lambert chuckled. „A bit. But look! Here we are. Having a beer and a nice little talk after a shitload of hard work. I can tell you about …“
„What do you do for your living?“
„Besides pissing people off you say? - Heh, never mind. I used to kick my dimwitted wife's butt and to bring shady fellows from A to B for a bad price - for them, not for me. But given that my dear wife stole my ship and escaped to wherever she thought is a good place, I’m actually without work at the moment.“
Mike blinked. „Sorry to hear that, buddy.“
„No worries! I’ll find her. And then I’ll kill her. After I …“
„Yeah, alright. Got it. - You’re looking for help? Totally fine for me.“
„Nah, not so fast." Lambert grined. "I’ve got some bucks, I’m rich like some fatso. And this cowboy knows women. Let’s talk a bit more about the nice ship of yours … what I absolutely find shocking is its name - what kind of stupid asshole names his own ship Ridonkolous Jack? I mean … really - what an unbelievable shitty name is this?“
Mike showed a subtle smile although he noticed that the tone of this conversation was changing suddenly. „Well, it gives me a few, precious seconds more if I get in serious trouble. - Really, it does.“
„Yeah? - I’m impressed! That’s a truly ridonkolous idea … But you know, the point is, this name somehow reminds me of an good old friend of mine. “
Mike slowly drew breath before he answered: „Just by chance, mh? - What happened to your good friend then?“
„I shot him in his face! Ha!“ His counterpart slammed his hand on the table and started laughing out loudly. But it sounded very dry and dopey as it always did.
„Yeah, yeah … fine, you smart ass! - Get some beer first!“
Mike cut the conversation short and splashed the rest of his beer into the face of the broadly grinning man. But Lambert knew the dance to well and hit him surprisingly fast right on the chin. Given that this wasn’t the first fight neither Mike had ever faced, he countered with a hefty punch in Lambert's stomach while pushing all his weight forward.
A few seconds later nobody noticed the deeply desperate sigh of the barkeeper anymore. „Oh, please … what the hell is so wrong with you, guys?! What did life do to you so badly?! Damn you! All of you! You sons of …“
A half an hour later all what Mike felt was pain. The barkeeper had alerted the station’s police officers, who weren't usually very eager to react fast, and had closed the place yet another time, after the last man had been pushed trough the door. The officers knew their stuff all to well and took only one with them who was looking pretty bad.
Mike was sitting on the cold steely floor with his back leaned against a carrier, cursing himself. But somehow, somewhere between all the pain he felt some kind of inner relief. For a little moment he forgot the guy he just killed a few hours ago, forgot that some ugly day he will be out there himself, drifting endlessly through the space, another dead body with a very questionable past. Just like his father told him. Should he had stayed at Orishpucho instead, stepping in his father’s shoes a millennium ago? At that time he didn’t thought so. He was all about becoming an honorable officer of the great Federations’s fleet. ( Yes. Of course. Did I mention those great comics he read as a kid already? ) - But he failed miserably. End of story.
„Good fight, man.“ he heard the voice coming from the one who started all the mess. „Really … good fight. And you know what? - You were right. I’m actually looking for some guy who could help me out. And it will pay off for you …“
Mike closed his eyes. „Yeah, I guessed so.“
… to be continued