A Commander walks into a bar...
15 Aug 2021Endet15
Pemoeri system. Allegiance: Empire.Jakob always hated stopping in Imperial space. He didn't know exactly why, but he had a few guesses. Perhaps it was the whole slavery thing. Or, maybe it was the odd accent all imperial authority spoke with. Whatever it was, it set him off, big time. But, unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. The fuel scoop on his ship was damaged in a recent... disagreement with a pirate in a Krait Mk II. A plasma accelerator round slammed right into the panel of the damn thing, and essentially welded it shut.
Jakob looked to his left panel at the system map. Lets see here...
He looked through the list of ports and let out a sigh. He needed a drink.
COLLINSONS PEACE.
He had heard of that place before. Apparently, it had a decent bar. AND repair services. This'll do.
---
"This is Delacy, Echo-November-Delta to flight control, requesting permission to land at LP 1."
...
The radio was silent for several seconds as the Diamondback Explorer slowly descended for the landing pad, about 7 Kilometers out.
"Roger END, Permission granted. Make way for LP 1. And do enjoy your visit, Commander."
The flight controller had THAT accent. So posh, and stuck up. Carmann kept his mouth shut as he deployed his landing gear and sat down at the pad.
---
The planet COLLINSONS PEACE was on only had 0.16 G's of gravity, so it was a few moments before Carmann's feet hit the dirt, as the repair services got to work on his ship. They told him it would take around 15 minutes. More than enough time to get some quality drink in.
He walked down the path toward the visitor center. It was night, as the planet was tidally locked. The path was lit up with lights, and advertisement holograms. Some people sat on the benches to the left side. Probably waiting for their ride to get here, or something like that, Carmann thought.
One group looked out of place; two men, in dominator suits. One sitting, one standing. He didn't look with his head, but out of the corner of his eyes, through the one sided visor, he got a bit of a better look at them. Their suits had markings he was all too familiar with. Tollan Hand Free Gang members.
Carmann kept his head straight and walked into the building, through the airlock.
---
Carmann sat down, and lifted his faceplate with the press of a button on his wrist. The bartender strode over from the other side of the bar.
"Hey friend, what can I get for you this fine evening?"
"You have Eranin Pearl?" Carmann asked.
"You bet."
"Shot of that please."
The bartender nodded and turned ducked under the bar.
Out of the corner of his left eye, Carmann saw the two men from earlier walk through the airlock. He took a breath and lowered his faceplate as they approached. One of them sat down to his left. The other his right a moment later.
"Commander Carmann, 'The Regulator'. Fancy meeting you here." The one on his left began speaking, his voice being digitized through his helmet. "I took it you hid deep in fed space."
"Like a little bitch." The right one grumbled.
"I'm sure you didn't come in here to ask for an autograph." Carmann replied cooly.
Carmann felt something jab his right side. The barrel of a pistol, no doubt. Probably plasma.
"No." the one on the right said.
The bartender stood up and widened his eyes a bit at the sight. Carmann slowly shook his head.
"I... uh... er..."
"Buzz off." Left guy said.
The bartender quickly turned around and went to the other side of the bar.
"You've done a lotta killin' back home, Carmann." Left continued. "Today you're gonna get a taste of your own medicine. Get up."
Carmann slowly turned toward Right.
"Try anything and I'll put a hole i-"
Carmann jerked his wrist in a quick motion, and a blue aura quickly surrounded him.
SHIELD ONLINE
Carmann snatched for his side where one of his Plasma pistols rested. He quickly raised it as Right pulled the trigger. The pink ball of plasma collided into the shield just centimeters above his chest.
WARNING - SHIELD OFFLINE
Carmann pulled his trigger. Right was not as fast as he was. As Right was falling backward out of his stool, Left was reaching for his sidearm.
"Don't."
Left stopped moving as Carmann pointed his plasma pistol at him. He stared down the barrel of the gun, then up to Carman's almost featureless visor.
Carmann could see the bartender rush out of the airlock. Probably grabbing some guards.
"Would you... like my autograph now?"
"You're a son of a bitch."
Carmann pulled the trigger. The plasma ball struck Left in his torso, and he let out a yell as he fell backwards. Left clutched the scorch mark on his suit and writhed in pain as the settlement guards and the bartender rushed in. The guards raised their weapons.
"No, no! He's good. He... didn't... need help." The bartender looked down at the two men on the floor.
Carmann kept the gun leveled at Lefts head.
"Put the weapon away." One of the guards demanded, their rifle still raised.
Left stared at the inside of the barrel, and back to Carmann's faceplate.
"..."
Carmann slowly holstered the pistol and sat back down in his stool. As the guards picked up Left and dragged him off, Carmann raised his faceplate again.
"So, about that drink..."
The bartender slowly made his way to the other side of the bar as Right's body was being dragged off by another guard.
"Uhm... of course. Eranin pearl?"
"Yes."
The bartender picked up the bottle of whiskey off the floor and poured it into a nearby clean shot glass, and pushed it forward with a shrug. Carmann drank the shot, albeit slowly as the gravity on the planet was not very high.
"Ten credits."
Carmann nodded and waved his hand.
"Send it to END." He said as he put the glass down and stood up with a sigh. "I'm not thirsty anymore."