RP: ISC Phoenix [Interlude 4] - A Hard Day's Night

Arin tripped over something lying outside the bar, luckily the effects of the wine had worn off otherwise she would be joining whatever it is on the floor. It only occurred to her that that something was actually someone when she saw the broken door and the trail of blood. With a yelp she quickly jumped into the bar premises, better to be inside with the crew than outside with anyone else.

Though the inside of the bar also mirrored the outside but on a larger scale. While there are only wooden splinters and one body outside, there were a host of wrecked stuff and many dead Michaels inside. Arin knew the man, he was the only person to fully incapacitate herself but the sight of the crew and one clone tide up calmed her somewhat. The representative then looked around to asses the damage.

At least the mandatory assassination attempt for the evening was over and done with, with this she was pleased.

"Do we have to fix this place up?" She hollered to the crew in general.

To everyone's surprise, Vincent snatched the fancifully-wrapped package and held it up right in front of his face. He took a long sniff of the wrapping paper, then shrugged. "Doesn't smell funky," the merc grunted.

A few patrons stared at him for a moment, and Vincent was forced to shrug again. "Some types of explosives have a distinctive scent," the ID-Sol said plainitively, "faint, but they're there. Either this package is non-lethal, or someone disguised the scent."

Zeta cheered up a little when Arin came in. "Hello Arin! Where were you?" She stood up and walked to greet smaller woman. While she walked her back to the table she talked. A lot. "You missed absolutely great shop. There were like a hundreds of most beutful guns ever stolen and upgraded. I bought me nice smg and easy. They had body armors too. And in back were few old vehicles and such. I hope we will stop by whenever we will beo n Nep Prime."

She saw Arin looking aroun on dead bodies. "Oh don't mind them. I bet they have enough on them to pay for damage to the pub. And we even caught one." Zeta hoped there weren't too many information to Arin at once.

Seiren, having left Jim to his own devices (Both literal and figurative), ran to the tavern where the group was located. As he entered, he nearly tripped over the body - actually, he did trip, but he didn't fall. He more stumbled into the bar, hopped twice while trying to regain balance, and THEN fell flat on his face next to the group's main table. The inventor recovered quickly and attempted to regain dignity in the process. A quick look around told him that there had been another attempt on Luca's life. Big surprise.

"You're way too popular for your own good, you know that?" He told the man, pulling up one of the unbroken chairs.

Luca shrugged at Seiren's observation. The little guy was right, and he may have been a bit too popular to live over the past few days. Upon hearing his observation, this gave the captain an idea.

"Too popular here," Luca smiled as he snapped his fingers, "But nobody will know who I am over on Drift. I've never heard of the place."
"But can we confirm that this is not a bomb or hazardous material?" Sebastian asked as he looked at the package, "Some facets of SAINT and the Yamataians really have it in for Freespacers."

"Oh...kay," The freespacer woman lovingly untied the ribbons on the box and took the wrapping paper off, then opened the lid, "See? Nothing worth destroying or seizing."

The contents were as follows: A rainbow-patterned scarf, a few data CD's labelled: "Games", six bottles of full strength Nepleslian beer, three large, medical bottles of radioactivity pills (Freespacers need these to survive in non-radioactive environs.), a handwritten note/love letter, some elaborate embroidery and a folded up poster of a large smiley face with the caption "It's Alright!".

"I knew you smelt something," Mel smiled at Vincent as she pointed to the beer.
After showing off the contents, she put them back in the box and then put the wrapping and ribbons back in place, as though it was untouched.

"Okay, point proven, it's not a bomb," Sebastian observed plainly, "Where did you say Drift was?"
"Right on the border of Yamataian and United Outer Colonies space," The freespacer woman nodded as she sent the directions to everyone's communicators, "This means a whole lot to me, and my friend will be waiting with a payment to make it worth your while."

"It'd better be, out there, there are Mishhu," Sebastian nodded coldly.
"Hey, any excuse to get outta here," Luca smiled, "Maybe we can get shot at by something a little different for once - and once we reach Drift, we'll be in the clear. Hopefully we can enjoy some time off there."

Enzo was suddenly not as pleased as the rest of the crew. He shook his head in disbelief and stubbed the cigarette out in the prisoner's ear. "Something's fishy here." he said, "And I don't likes the way this looks. Granted there's some NMX chiggers floatin' around in Freespace, but I gots a hunch there's another reason to be careful here. You don't just give a box with some cute toys in it to Luca Pavone for delivery. He's supposed to be some kind of legendary hero or somethin'. We're getting in to somethin' here and I gots a slight suspicion it's not just package delivery."

"I don't see why Luca shouldn't be able to do a nice-guy job for once, Enzo," Vincent said bluntly. Swivelling on his chair towards the grifter, the hulking mercenary cocked his head to the side. "We wouldn't be the good guys if we didn't do some charity work now and then."

"Ahaha, is that so..." Arin nervously giggled. While she had missed the bad part of the evening (ie:attacked by Michael clones) she had also missed the good part of it (ie:visiting a junk store offering discounts). Nevertheless she felt that it was in the group's best interest to accept the Freespacer's offer (assuming that it is as simple as it appears to be) as so to avoid the daily assassination attempts, to allow Luca's newfound popularity to cool off and so that they'll be back here sooner so Zeta would show her the place.

"The drink knocked me out." The Representative replied, honestly. "How do you take this kind of stuff anyway?" It also appears that she is not in the least affected by Zeta's presumed information overload as she is seeking more.

So she got stoned. She probably is not much of a drinker. Zeta observed, "Well, it is probably just about training. In my last job we went for a few beers, every day. It's just as you drink, your body will become more accustomed." She said to Arin.

"Well it would by harder for being small, slim and beautiful like you. I had it easier with my muscular body. You know, I just need more alcohol than you to get drunk. No offence." Zeta said this with a smile and a wink.

"Come, I will show you my new gun," She said and got back to the table. She took her bag and after little searching, she took out her new SMG.
"It is pretty modified and it is .45 calibre. But owner said it should have only a little recoil. It has no stock, but I should be okay with my arm. I really can't wait to try it out," Zeta looked like a little kid with new toy car. Only that she was grown woman and she held a sub machine gun.

Enzo snickered aloud, but quickly refrained from saying anything while he watched Zeta put the moves on Arin. A girl after my own heart, that one. He thought, "Hey, yous a pretty lady, wanna see my gun?" He chuckled to himself once more before turning to back to the box and addressing the point at hand.

"So, we takes the box, yeah? Alright, easy enough; but I gots one question for you: Where do most of us fit in?" He looked at each of the crew-members as he went down the list, "I don't know if sniping, bashing, cutting, sneaking, more bashing, a combination of sneaking and cutting, beings a cute knows-it-alll, being a grizzled vet, being a sweet momma, being a heroic sweet-momma's boy, or my personal skills, a combination of lies and acrobatics would suit a simple space delivery."

He took a breath after the incredibly long sentence and continued, "Alls you need is the pilot and the pretty cab driver lady, here. Why not just let 'em take the shuttle while we go find bigger fish to fry? Or is there somethin' abouts this crew dynamic I don't understands yet?"

"I believe it's something the Yamataians refer to as nakama." Vincent grunted. "We go everywhere as a group, like some kind of big, gun-toting extended family."

The merc snorted, wiping his thumb under his nose, then continued. "That," he added, "and there's always some gun-toting maniac out there to ruin our breadrun."

Enzo nodded slightly as he replied, changing his voice to the local dialect for comedic effect. "I expected something like that. Well, cousin Vince, I expect we might get us a few Mee-shew while we's out. I reckon they're a might ornery bunch, ah-hmm. We should bring ever' one along fer the rahad, 'cept the new kid. 'E's jest a lil' boy. Ain't much safe-erim oudhair. Aw hell, lil' guy I'm jest messin, you can come along too, ya lil grease-nugget!" He almost sincerely patted Seiren on the head for a moment before breaking character to light a cigarette, striking a match off of the prisoner's lapel. During a moment of weakness, he dusted the ashes off of the prisoner's hair before going back to using it as an ashtray again.

"What're we gonna do with this guy, anyway? I think he's gonna start to smell bad before we can gets him anywhere to have fun with 'em. I suggest we execute him in public to make an example for all the other bounty hunters. I haven't killed anybody since the pirates yoinnked my ship, so maybe I'm just a little antsy, but I gots this feeling this won't be the last time we see this guy... Eh, that is, this specific version of this guy, if we lets him go."

"It is pretty modified and it is .45 calibre. But owner said it should have only a little recoil. It has no stock, but I should be okay with my arm. I really can't wait to try it out,"

Click to expand...

'Little recoil!' Arin silently exclaimed as she stripped the weapon with her eyes. There was no way of telling what the original weapon was through the heavy customization, if such a weapon was still in production, it looked antiquated. Perhaps in its original short-barred and stocked configuration the recoil would have been less and managed better. The pistol grip looked reinforced and slightly out of shape, the Representative guessed that the previous owner had a tight grip, most likely cybernetically enhanced like Zeta. Perhaps things might work out just fine after all.

"You should!" Arin piped, out of concern. "I nearly dropped my ESG the first time I fired it, we can't go around shooting in public, perhaps we can set up a firing range on the Phoenix when we get back?"

Nobody told her about Seiren's potential recoil management issues yet.

"I believe it's something the Yamataians refer to as nakama." Vincent grunted. "We go everywhere as a group, like some kind of big, gun-toting extended family."

Click to expand...

"So far all attacks were only directed at the captain and we've been around to help. I'm afraid that one day they'll wise up and off the rest of us first, I don't want to be alone when that happens." She demurred.

The Representative then observed Vincenzo with incredulity.

Luca looked over to Enzo, upon his observations with Seiren.
"Now now, my ship barely flies at the moment, if it wasn't for Allison's help, we'd have been screwed."
"Allison is our ship fixer. She's currently staying there now," Sebastian filled in the blanks.

"I suppose she could do with an extra set of hands," Luca said, nodding in agreement, "What if we move to a bigger ship which requires bigger working crew rather than just me and John?"
"I suppose we'll need to, since there are Mishhu about," Anna expressed her worries.

"Apupup," John interrupted her, "According to the manual, the ship, a Vampire Class comes equipped with a Medium Positron Cannon. They use those to destroy PLANETS," He stressed his point with a smile, "I seriously doubt a destroyer would stay in front of one."

As for the spare clone, Luca turned around and stroked his chin, then snapped his fingers as an idea entered his head.
"Public execution is too good for him," He smiled as he stepped outside, and saw a flagpole nearby. He snapped his fingers again as he recalled something that happened to him at college, "How about we string him up to dry on that flagpole, humiliate him and let the cops deal with him? Trust me, that way he can tell the world that he had his arse kicked by us."

"Just like the time at winter where we stripped you to your boxers and -" John was thinking aloud when Luca put his hand over John's mouth.
"No, I don't want to remember that," He cut in.

The clone begun squirming about, rocking in his chair and hopping around with clunks.
"I don't think he'll appreciate that at all," Sebastian said with a grin, "As a matter of fact, let's tie him up there, chair and all."

The clone begun hopping around in circles and fell on his side. The barmaid walked past him and collected everyone's cleared meals.

"You have some rate interestin' friends, y'know?" She said as she walked towards Vincent and gave him a peck on the bicep, unable to reach his face, "That's fer throwin' that sword wieldin' crazy out. I appreciate that," She then moved back to the kitchen, and came out to take orders from customers, who'd slowly begun to resume their drinking and eating.

Panther was quickly done with his meal as the crew lazy about after the danger was over. "I think this idea is interesting," was all he said about the mission set in front of the crew. The sooner we leave this planet, the less I have to wear these stupid cloths, thought Panther, besides I joined these humans to be able to explore the vast great darkness, if I just wanted a joy ride I would have stolen a bike.

Panther gave a side glance as he poured some of his drink on his now empty plate, "If you humans are concerned with a dishonorable death, you could just freeze him and I shall eat him later," commented the Kohanian, only half joking as he began to lap his drink from the dish, getting a weird look from the bartender who just went about his business.

After seeing 6 clones at one time, a cat-human thing isn't nearly as strange.

Again, Uriel had become silent. It wasn't his place to suggest a course of action nor was he honestly very interested just what they ended up doing, although he'd be more than ready to make a suggestion if those already presented were lacking something serious. He was on a personal mission to simply explore and get to know people. If that meant he was going to have to tag along for a few jobs, sure he'd do them whole-heartedly. If the Captain asked him to fight for the crew's survival, he would draw weapons and fight until he was dead and perhaps even then. Honor and loyalty was strong among the Patricians, especially those with a military background. It just so happened that the eldest male Hisshana was willing to submit his honor and loyalty to the behest and will of those beyond his own species.

A simple package delivery, though... It didn't sound right. Undoubtedly they would run into more trouble than this little thing was worth, but so be it. If Pavone was going to deliver it, Uriel would be right behind him, ready to commit any and all of his skills to the tasks laid before them. He was perhaps a bit eager to get back into space.

"Very well, then. Let's make a public display of this man and proceed." Brief and straightforward.

"Hey, where'd my ashtray go?" Enzo asked. He stood the chair back up and stamped out his cigarette in the clone's ear again before continuing, "Well, I'm interested in some good fun. And hey, maybes I can picks up a guitar on the way outs to pass the time on our slow and easy voyage. You's never laughed until yous heard the Ballad of Big-Nosed-Billy sung by a true Nepleslian. And if we're goin' out to Freespace, we will spends a lot of time on that ship. Eh... Melissa, you wouldn't happens to sing with that beautiful voice of yours, lady? A fine broad likes you should sound likes an angel with that Delsaurian drawl." He smiled at Mel for a moment before throwing his arm around the prisoner and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "She's a real fine woman, pal. I thinks you gotta shot with her." He chuckled to himself.

"If we's gonna do somethin to this guy, lemme do it, yeah? I gots ways about this kinda stuff, see?"

Zeta poked the prisoner's head, "I really don't care what happened to this guy, but we could make him tell us if there are more Micheal's lurking. Plus, he could know account numbers and such." She stated, "I say we have him, so let's use him as much as we can, no?" She then turned back to Arin.

"Hmm, firing range at the ship? Well that could probably work, with captains consent of course. Heh, I should have bought more ammo," Zeta smiled after saying that.

"Ah, yer a sweet 'eart, know that?" Mel leaned over to Enzo as she uprighted the chaired clone and begun hauling him, chair and all up the steps and outside, "Me mum once told me that I could do a rippin' good version of My Spacetime Gal, maybe I should brush up some time."

Luca and Sebastian exchanged a simultaneous, incredulous blink.
"She can sing?" Sebastian whispered with a raised eyebrow.
"Search me," Luca replied short of an answer.
"Well, she is a cunning lingu-" John commented as Anna slapped him, "What? What did I do?!" She gave him a cold stare.

She lifted the clone outside and plonked him next to the flagpole. She then got a length of rope from a pocket, and fiddled with it. She eventually made a very strong knot, whilst tying a piece of cloth she'd gotten from one of her pockets to his chair.
"...and that's me speciality, 'e won't be escapin' that, 'er fallin' to his death, heh heh," She grinned mischievously whilst standing back and laughing, "You do the honours, Mr. B'telli!"

Luca walked outside, shaking his head, but smiling as he waited for the flag to rise, "Drumroll please," He requested. He then noticed Hitori was nudging him, and eventually into place came under his arm, purring like a kitten.

John nodded as he got his communicator out and tapped in a few commands. A tinny, yet dignified drumroll played.

"You're amazing, you know?" Hitori snuggled under the captain's arm, "I believe you might stand a chance against him."
"I'll admit it was his worst move yet," He replied as he watched him squirm around as other people begun to crowd around to observe the spectacle, "He'll have police crawling all over him, and this'll teach him not to target nice little ladies with troubled pasts like yourself."

"But I digress," He said at last, wanting to get to the fun, "Now let's enjoy the show, shall we? Raise the flag!"

Enzo saluted Mel with a grim look on his face while he took the rope in hand. The situation was lighthearted, but Enzo acted as if everything were very tense. "Cooooooompany Arms!" he called, right before yanking the rope and singing a hymn passionately.

"Oh Nepleslia, you are so peaceful,
Oh Nepleslia, you are so vast,
Green Nepleslia, you are my home,
Now I'm home at last."

Finishing his ceremony, Enzo wiped an imaginary tear from his eye before stopping at half mast. He slung the loose end of the rope around the pole and scaled up to the hanging clone. With a wicked grin on his face, Enzo rubbed butter nicked from the restraunt's table all over the face of the prisoner and poured a bottle of the stolen liquor over his hair. Without a word, he slid back down the pole and saluted Mel once more, this time not able to contain his smile. With his duty done, he turned to Luca and said, "We'll knows this one if we sees him again. He'll be the sunburnt one withs the bleached-outs hair... I gave 'em what you calls indibidge-ee-ality."