Dawn Station - Sector Nine, Ted's Pub - Night Cycle
The dark, closed confines of the pub bristled with the same activity from when Desmond had been there the last time, and nothing had changed. The place still had the lingering, pungent smell of alcohol and tobacco, while the same metallic, mismatched furniture that had probably been constructed with the metals that weren't even worth recycling from scrapped ships still had the same rusted edges that he had seen before too.
It didn't bother him in the least, the noise from a few vidscreens masked the sounds of most conversations unless someone was yelling to be heard and the relatively high number of clients made it harder for them to be recognized. And at least he could smoke there in peace.
Instead of sitting by the bar like the last time, Desmond sat at a more recluse table, trying not to attract any prying eyes towards him or the other bounty hunters that would be arriving. Since the last job had been aborted, he had chosen that pub to make a 'debrief' of sorts, as well as to offer some measure of compensation for the other hunters' work.
The world didn't run on hugs and kisses after all, and he wasn't specifically running a charity.
Bringing his left wrist up, the bounty hunter briefly looked at the time displayed on the small screen of the PHC on his wrist before exhaling a puff of smoke. He looked around the pub one more time and stubbed what remained of his cigarette out.
The dark, closed confines of the pub bristled with the same activity from when Desmond had been there the last time, and nothing had changed. The place still had the lingering, pungent smell of alcohol and tobacco, while the same metallic, mismatched furniture that had probably been constructed with the metals that weren't even worth recycling from scrapped ships still had the same rusted edges that he had seen before too.
It didn't bother him in the least, the noise from a few vidscreens masked the sounds of most conversations unless someone was yelling to be heard and the relatively high number of clients made it harder for them to be recognized. And at least he could smoke there in peace.
Instead of sitting by the bar like the last time, Desmond sat at a more recluse table, trying not to attract any prying eyes towards him or the other bounty hunters that would be arriving. Since the last job had been aborted, he had chosen that pub to make a 'debrief' of sorts, as well as to offer some measure of compensation for the other hunters' work.
The world didn't run on hugs and kisses after all, and he wasn't specifically running a charity.
Bringing his left wrist up, the bounty hunter briefly looked at the time displayed on the small screen of the PHC on his wrist before exhaling a puff of smoke. He looked around the pub one more time and stubbed what remained of his cigarette out.