Some Bar down in the district
"ANOTHER BAR!" Ver'rada roared as he "opened" the door.
"You don't need to announce it." Luxe muttered as she walked in by his side.
The bar was pretty quiet, or at least it turned quiet at Ver'rada's loud entrance. It wasn't a big place, nor fancy, though it had all the standard amenities of any other bar. The bar itself, tables to drink, and the occupants.
Luxe avoided touching the bars whenever the opportunity arose. She was still reeling after they found out what the last bar was trying to sell them, at least she had the dignity to smell the "beer" before drinking it.
Ver'rada "walked" over to the bar, and demanded a drink, which the bartender cautiously filled. After taking a mighty drink, he turned around to the other occupants, "WHAT A WONDERFUL DRINK THIS IS!"
With a roll of her eyes she sat down next to Rampage, trying desperately to hide her disgust.
Very few of the delinquents, low-lifes, and riff-raff who occupied the bar were unjustified in the wary glances they gave to the strange man who came barging in. He was loud, brusque, and would have otherwise fit right in with the other occupants. It was his strange demeanor and penchant for announcing everything that drew most eyes to him. All except, it seemed, for one young man.
Kenneth Hesser was one of the only souls not looking at him. Sitting by himself in a booth across from the actual bar itself, drink in hand.
Most of the other tenants had given him his space. The off-white armor off his arms exposed by the rolled up sleeves of a button-down shirt and the large military-looking knife he was playing with in a free hand likely helped with that. From over the rim of his glass, Kenneth regarded the man rather critically with whiskey-gold eyes, but said nothing.
Ver'rada finished his drink and glanced at Luxe, "Sorry, can't think very good." He then gazed around the room, passing over most of the general bar-goers, they weren't anything special, Rampage could probably slam them through their tables with ease. He stopped twice in his "search", once for a nice-looking woman, which he tried to hide from Luxe that he had stared, and then once more for an odd man, who looked a bit more than the rest of the rabble.
"Nice Knife." Ver'rada called to him.
Everything froze. Or at least, Kenneth froze. He hadn't been expecting to be addressed. Mechanical fingers paused their motions, the knife referenced held by the blade in a careful balance, and he stopped his motion to take a drink just as the amber gold touched his lips. For a long moment, several of the eyes formerly on the duo at the bar shifted to him. Talking. Kenneth hated talking.
"Thank... you." Came the unsure reply, "Nice... ?" He paused, brow quirked, and searched for a way to put thoughts in to words, "...girl?"
Stupid brain.
Luxe was doing her rounds of the bar crowd in her normal way Poor, poor, untrained, poor, prostitute, poor, underpaid, and poor but with extravagant tastes. The last one she saw was the same one Ver'arda had complemented.
Ver'rada laughed a bit, "I don't think she'd appreciate me calling her, "Mine"."
She lightly grabbed Ver'arda's arm and quickly sent one word over to him NO before alowing him to speak again.
Ver'rada flinched slightly at Luxe, "... and now I know she won't appreciate it!" He went into thought, "... so I'll say she's... a *very* good friend of mine." Play it safe, kinda
He returned his attention to the other man, "So can you do anything with it? The knife."
Kenneth's posture relaxed, but hardly enough to be measured. It was the cybernetic limbs that made him still seem so tense. That, and the natural body language of any human being feeling slightly on edge. Seeming to pay no heed to the other patrons now watching this exchange, he set his glass down, and gave his answer.
"Lots of... things." He answered, "Spin. Toss. Kill... if made to." Truth be told, Kenneth was a bigger fan of keeping his enemy at range with a good rifle.
Luxe quirked a small smile on her face at the little addendum to his combat policy. She put her hand on Rampage's. He's hesitant, is that good or bad?
He's either confused on how to handle this, he's bluffing, or he's hesitating on whether to make a scene or not. Ver'rada nodded at the man, "Sounds like some useful skills, but how do I know if you're bluffing? Care to demonstrate a small display of your... abilities?" Let's see about bluffing, shall we Luxe?
For a moment, Ken didn't move. He sat where he was, off-white fingers tentatively holding a glass in one hand, and a sharpened killing implement in the other. Normally this wasn't a combination for anything safe. Especially not in some downtown bar where a challenge had just been issued. In a place like this, backing down would throw a lot of shame on the stranger in the eyes of the people there.
A glass. Drinking. Approximately eight ounces and placed in front of the man who had just issued the challenge. The systems in his mind read off this info to him and showed it for his eyes only on one side of the glassy surfaces. A challenge had been issued, so it must be returned. Kenneth sat up, slowly at first, and the blade once more began to dance between his fingers. It picked up speed as he stepped away from his booth, twirling between the digits, the handle grazing the palm, but never moving so fast as that he would lose control.
Then, it snapped. Blade pinched between the thumb and forefinger, handle up. It wasn't a weapon optimized for projectile combat, the systems reminded him, but it would do. His arm reeled back and an instant later, snapped forward. Those who tracked it would watch as it slammed in to the table with a solid-sounding -thunk-. The glass, barely caught, now sported a new mark at it's base, and spun for a few moments in a lazy circle. Kenneth was motionless, still in the thrower's pose, and eyes locked on the blade.
Luxe took her hand off of his, Wow it appears the lower class can be taught funny tricks after all. Whose wrong and unethical now mom? She spoke up for the time in her normal disinterested tone, "That's all well and good but what else can you do?"
Ver'rada didn't flinch at the knife, he'd seen that happen before. "Impressive... but nothing I haven't seen before." He shrugged, pulling the knife out of the glass, and slid it down the bar back to the man, "Got any other tricks?" He placed his hand on Luxe's for a second, He wasn't bluffing. But let's see if he gets a bit mad?
Any other tricks?
Kenneth gave the two that same analytical gaze as before, hand reaching down to retrieve the knife as it reached him. There was the sound of a tiny lock mechanism opening and a sheath of sorts could be seen on the inside of his left arm. With a deft movement, the blade was placed there, and tucked away for safe-keeping. Few people in the world were allowed to demand more of Kenneth than he was willing to give, and these -- this hulky Lorath and his arrogant-looking partner were not "them".
"You... no master." He said, face seemingly stoic despite the hints of venom beginning to seep in to his words, "I have... nothing to prove." He squared his shoulders and took a step back, obviously to return to his booth, "I know me. Not worth... fights, for proof."
Luxe was unable to the detect arrogance of someone who thought higher of themselves in his comment, she instead heard someone who knew his place but presumed too much. All in all it was funny, so funny she had no choice but laugh "It's you job to fight, its your job to serve people, and its your job to do as we tell you."
She stood up and looked at the reclusive man. "Now prove you know more tricks, NOW."
Ver'rada allowed Luxe to talk while he focused, Good thing alcohol helps the shifting. He started to shift his favored arm, the right arm. Anyone paying attention to him would notice it, and some stared, in wonder or horror, only the person themselves knew.
Kenneth felt something in him twist at the woman's words. He had just begun to turn around when she had started talking. He gave her the decent courtesy to face her as she did. And he listened. As much as he wanted to spring, snap, and bash in her face with the nearest piece of furniture -- he listened. He was two things. The first was well-conditioned to his emotions from early on in life. The second was keenly aware of the large Lorath man with her. He could fight her, yes. Probably kill her, if he wished. But her friend would be the real problem. Still, a former slave would not so freely return to the chains.
The sound of that sheath's locking mechanism unlatching could be heard, and his fingers gracefully caught the handle, while the blade itself was held covered by the length of his arm. His jaw began to clench and unclench, a reaction that the last master-doctor had told him he needed to stop to keep his teeth healthy.
"Make me." No profanity. No anger. Only the challenge. His stance was that of a fighter's, and he would fight.
Ver'rada tapped Luxe with his unshifted hand, he knew she hated his shifting, thought it was ugly or some such, He will fight, and he's not half bad either by the looks, careful Luxe.
Don't worry I just want to see how he reacts. After all only one knife vs a stone thread jacket, a staff, a gun, and you, how hard could it be.
Don't underestimate anyone, if you noticed, he's been pulling that knife from a sheathe in his arm. Who says he can't have more lying around inside him? That also means it won't hurt him to hit him there. Ver'rada added, Also, that jacket doesn't cover your entire body, you have weak spots just like me.
We need to test him some way, unless you got a better plan. I'll start this fight right here. Also I can defend myself very well, thank you.
Ver'rada shrugged, Have it your way.
Nobody seemed to move, but Kenneth had been in enough fights to know what was happening. They wanted him to make the first move. To go charging for the girl and leave his flank open for that hulking Lorath who had been -- growing his arm since she had first started talking. Kenneth had faith in his framework, but he didn't know how hard that man could punch. He didn't want to take that chance. If this was a fight, it was going to be one of two kinds. It was one to prove himself, or it was one to live. They way they talked showed they had no intentions of anybody dying.
Kenneth reached up, and slowly undid the buttons of the shirt he wore. The light-blue shirt was pulled off and cast on to a nearby table to show the tank top, and the full extent of his cybernetic arms underneath. After all, that shirt was new. A good slave knew the value of something they owned. He wouldn't expose the legs under the jeans just yet. He needed to have at least a few aces up his sleeve, after all.
"Come on... girl." He let the faintest traces of a scowl cross his face, "Swing. If you are... master. Crack... the whip." His grip on the knife handle tightened.
Luxe looked him in the eye patiently, she kept her hands off both of her weapons not wanting him to think she would commit to either of her combat forms.
"So slave you think you know what a master should be like? I've owned slaves that could wipe the floor with your augmented body." She took a step to her right side moving closer to one of the tables in the bar.
Ver'rada watched, Best play smart Luxe, I'm not the fastest person in the world, just the strongest. He clenched his right hand into a tight ball.
Kenneth watched Luxe move. She was armed, but she wasn't going fo -- she was holding her cards. He had the growing feeling that an arm luck with this girl before she was disarmed would get a gunshot in his stomach. He was smart enough to catch that. He had a second blade. He didn't need this one.
The first whipped for the Lorath's arm. And in that same motion he charged across the distance at the young woman, but didn't dare make himself a straight-line target. He kicked himself down and made slide to impress any string-1 athlete for her feet.
Luxe reacted the second the knife was thrown, she rolled over the table and in the same motion pulled out her staff using its extra weight to quickly turn her to face the current threat.
Ver'rada ducked down, and moved to the side to avoid the knife, It wouldn't hurt too much if it hooked my right arm, it'd bleed some though. After that, he merely sat back in his chair, and resumed watching, waiting to see if Luxe needed him.
The systems in his brain fed the info. The Lorath, a quick glance up from the floor showed, had avoided the blade, but apparently had no intent on following up the fight. The female was now on the other side of the table with a staff.
He curled up, placed his hands on the floor near his head, and gave two pushes. The first was a kick to the table to send it flipping for the woman, wood splintering with the boots' impact. The second was to whip back on to his feet. He was bare-fisted now. As far as either of the two of them would know. That was good. He turned to face the woman, stance ready for an incoming strike. Perhaps to catch the staff if she got to daring with her swings.
She used the staff to propel herself away from the table. Not in any rage state good quality to have, keeps them docile. What is your trigger? She moved again towards a table in almost the same manner as before with only the staff as a difference.
Kenneth shook his head, "I won't play... games." The scowl returned, as fleeting as ever, "Fight me. Or keep... running."
He tightened his fists, shifted his stance, and turned himself to follow her in a circle.
He consistently kept her in front of him, ready to fight, but not making an advance just yet. He knew a game of chase when he saw one, "I've seen... "real" masters. Tough souls. Fighters... like me. Killed... not run like... cowards. You are less."
She began to twitch a his comment and she felt herself reaching for her gun Don't do it he's trying to get under you skin he is lesser, he is LESSER, HE IS LESSER.
With a massive grin on her face she continued her dance and simply said, "You wouldn't understand we master live to reserve knowledge from our sla..... OH FUCK NOT YOU!, what the hell do you want?"
"I'm a mechanic, my job isn't to find people its to fix the ship, cap'n shoulda sent the lizard down but nooooooo he was to busy doing something else." VIlivi grumbled to herself as she meandered down the alleyways looking for the rest of the crew members.
She had been in the middle of fixing the linkup she had started on before she got into her brawl with Luxe when she was told to go hunt down the other crew members who had apparently gone missing earlier that day. Vilivi had protested briefly but had decided against it and had gone out on the town with her tool belt still strapped to her.
After searching several bars and other hiding holes with no luck she was about to give up and go back to the ship, when suddenly her ears picked up the sounds of a fight coming from a nearby bar. If I had to put money on it, I'd say they were in there..
Dashing across the street and into the bar she saw one of her fellow crew members fighting it out with a rather tall and tan cybernetically enhanced Nepleslian.
Hopping up onto a nearby bar stool to get a better look, she turned to some other patrons, "Five DS on the tan guy if any of you guys are takers."
"You bitch, this should remind you of something shouldn't it? People screaming amounts just to get you in their favor, hope its familiar." She kicked the table over to him at the same time she pointed the revolver at is stomach Time to test your will slave.
There had never been shouts. Never jeers or calls, normally. Only in the arena for a short time, and they were now in the cold vacuum of space. Always computer messages and pre-arranged prices before he ever saw the new master. This woman's experience with slaves was rather white collar.
The table was too far to pose a threat to him, where he was, but the revolver was a more pressing issue. He could roll, dive, and probably get a knife in her stomach cleanly enough to take a lung. But he'd be lucky if it was a bone that caught the round without shattering it -- the bone or the bullet. He had a gun as well, secured on his leg. He'd need cover.
"No master. A slave... with... frills." He shook his head, a look of something akin to pity on his face, "I was you... once. No more." And then he smiled, "And you won't shoot."
Don't shoot, it's a test. Don't let him into your head... Frills?... you're better then that, don't shoot. In complete disregard of her conscience, she fired two shots one for his gut the other a foot to his right.
Kenneth moved. Or Kenneth tried to move. It wasn't a full impact and he wouldn't lose an organ, but the crimson trail across his stomach was a sign that she would, in fact, shoot. Yet he was not down out of the fight. As he fell, he threw a table down with him, and used it as cover for the few moments it took him to draw his own sidearm: a semi-automatic. He popped up and quickly fired off two shots of his own. He was not so generous as to aim a false shot. Both were aimed for her stomach. Time for talk was quickly dying as patrons scattered to avoid the gunfire.
That self-elevating bitch!
Laying behind his new-found, if admittedly feeble cover, one hand rested over the new wound. It stung, it burned, and only past experience let him know he wasn't about to die.
Viliv booed as her chosen bet took a shot to the chest. "Who called guns? That's not fair!" The man next to her gave her a sly grin as she pulled out a few slips of paper and put them into his palm, grumbling as she paid him. As the rest of the patrons started to scatter Vee stayed on her bar stool, picking up a glass that was left by one of the fleeing patrons either way she would have to drag the others back to the ship and she might as well enjoy the show.
The first bullet caught on her jacket while the experience wasn't pleasant she could ignore the possibly broken rib 'till later. The second bullet grazed her hand forcing her to drop her revolver. I like him, definitely worth buying.
"Ver'rada I like him, he's worth keeping, now please make him count as luggage instead of a passenger."
"He must be worth something, he got you..." Ver'rada turned towards the table that the man was hiding behind, "...which means, he's my new target."
Ver'rada tipped over his chair standing up, and picked up the table, with little effort. "Well, I guess here we go." Ver'rada threw the table, it whipped through the air, and smashed the man's table into pieces. Some of the shards cut him. Ver'rada merely grabbed another table.
Shit.
That seemed concise enough to summarize this new situation. His cover was obliterated and the only thing saving his eyes was the fact that he shielded his face with his arms. He rolled away from the now rather exposed spot on the floor. Moving sufficiently away from the quite obviously angry Lorath, he got in to a crouch. He turned and fired three quick shots off for the Lorath's center-mass. He had four more, and he doubted that this new fighter would afford him time to reload once he ran out.
He dashed for the nearest more solid cover, behind the bar itself.
Ver'rada caught the rounds with the table, "Come on now! Are you going to run like a coward, or fight like a man?" He laughed, "I mean... I don't have to fight, you could just tag along." He had continued to shift the rest of his body, while he spoke. "I don't think you want me to catch you."
"He's already cost me 20 DS, hell knock him out for all I care." Vilivi chirped up from her spot, taking a long sip of her drink. "Hell I got my wrench here if you need it."
"I don't need a wrench, the only thing I'm fixing is this guy's state of mind. I'll let you know when I need a wrench." Ver'rada called as he continued shifting. If she's got her wrench, and Luxe is injured over there... I will kill her.
Kenneth took the moment to pop up from behind cover. With an ushering movement, he shooed the young bartender to head for the back. Danger wasn't good for one's health. He took aim at the ever-shifting Lorath's face.
"Take me two ways... Lorath." He steadied his aim, "Dead... or chains." He stopped his own movements, now seemingly resolute, "But don't... take off chains." That fleeting scowl, yet again, "I'll kill... everybody. Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon. In sleep. Or awake. Doesn't matter. A slave free... never goes back to pens."
He didn't pull the trigger again. Yet. That damn table was still there and he knew the Lorath would be quick enough to stop it.
"Well, what about offering a job? Free men need to make money somehow, and you seem to know how to kill. Best stick to what you know, right?" Ver'rada had finished, he could probably crush the other man with his hands. "So you won't be in chains, you won't be dead, and you'll still be free."
"That... easy?" He laughed. This was a painful ruse, at best, "Fine. Two rules. She..." He motioned to Luxe off in the back, "... apologizes. And then no more words... to me. She is... a child. And second?" He paused, in thought, "Private bunk." Yet that pistol never left the Lorath's face. As mighty as the man obviously felt he was, even he could be killed.
Luxe poked her uninjured middle finger from behind her table "Nope, not happening."
Ver'rada considered, Getting the bunk was easy. Getting Luxe to apologize... not easy. He doubted he could make Luxe apologize to a former slave, that just was something she couldn't do.
"That bunk, not hard at all to grant, we got plenty. But, ah, you might want to retract your demand for an apology from Luxe, I kinda doubt you'll ever hear one." I mean, I've probably got more apologies from her than the total number of times she's apologized.
"Hard to get anything nice out of her." Vee said walking over to where the two were talking."Vilvi Kolvi, ships mechanic. Cap'n sent me to hunt these guys down might as well bring you back, we could use more hands seeing as the birds out of order." A slight grin crossed her face as she looked at the injured Luxe, If I'm not allowed to openly fight her anymore might as well get this guy to do it for me.
"That, or I... walk." He motioned to the door, "You won't stop me." He didn't say that as a challenge, or as a possibility. It was uttered as a statement of fact.
He looked to the new woman, "Kolvi. You bet... for me." He paused for a moment, "Sorry. I will earn that back... again." Back to the Lorath, "If the frill slave..." A smile, "... apologizes." The smile fell, "Later. A doctor now... would be nice."
No amount of time is getting an apology for you buddy. Ver'rada glanced at Vilvi, "Smacking someone with a chair doesn't deserve anything nice." He called to the man, "Let's go get you one then."
"Well getting you to a doctor is all fine and dandy, but I gotta take these two back to the ship eventually."
"Take him to the doc, I'll take Luxe." Wouldn't want your wrench to have a reunion. Ver'rada set the table down and sat next to Luxe, deshifting before he finally scooped her up. "I'll see you around the ship..." Ver'rada paused... "Ah... do you have a name? Mine's Ver'rada."
Kenneth paused as he moved to go around the bar to join up with Vilvi, "I am... Kenneth. Kenneth Hesser."
"Alright then Kenny, lets find you a doc." Vee said walking out the door, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that were left on the table, popping one in her mouth and searching her belt for something to light it with. " I may be small but I move fast, so try and keep up, I don't want to come look for your ass as well."
"See you around, Kenneth." Ver'rada popped out the door, not caring about the destroyed tables and other damage. Happens a lot As he left, he allowed Luxe to share her pain with him, he didn't mind a bullet wound.
- - - - - - -
"ANOTHER BAR!" Ver'rada roared as he "opened" the door.
"You don't need to announce it." Luxe muttered as she walked in by his side.
The bar was pretty quiet, or at least it turned quiet at Ver'rada's loud entrance. It wasn't a big place, nor fancy, though it had all the standard amenities of any other bar. The bar itself, tables to drink, and the occupants.
Luxe avoided touching the bars whenever the opportunity arose. She was still reeling after they found out what the last bar was trying to sell them, at least she had the dignity to smell the "beer" before drinking it.
Ver'rada "walked" over to the bar, and demanded a drink, which the bartender cautiously filled. After taking a mighty drink, he turned around to the other occupants, "WHAT A WONDERFUL DRINK THIS IS!"
With a roll of her eyes she sat down next to Rampage, trying desperately to hide her disgust.
Very few of the delinquents, low-lifes, and riff-raff who occupied the bar were unjustified in the wary glances they gave to the strange man who came barging in. He was loud, brusque, and would have otherwise fit right in with the other occupants. It was his strange demeanor and penchant for announcing everything that drew most eyes to him. All except, it seemed, for one young man.
Kenneth Hesser was one of the only souls not looking at him. Sitting by himself in a booth across from the actual bar itself, drink in hand.
Most of the other tenants had given him his space. The off-white armor off his arms exposed by the rolled up sleeves of a button-down shirt and the large military-looking knife he was playing with in a free hand likely helped with that. From over the rim of his glass, Kenneth regarded the man rather critically with whiskey-gold eyes, but said nothing.
Ver'rada finished his drink and glanced at Luxe, "Sorry, can't think very good." He then gazed around the room, passing over most of the general bar-goers, they weren't anything special, Rampage could probably slam them through their tables with ease. He stopped twice in his "search", once for a nice-looking woman, which he tried to hide from Luxe that he had stared, and then once more for an odd man, who looked a bit more than the rest of the rabble.
"Nice Knife." Ver'rada called to him.
Everything froze. Or at least, Kenneth froze. He hadn't been expecting to be addressed. Mechanical fingers paused their motions, the knife referenced held by the blade in a careful balance, and he stopped his motion to take a drink just as the amber gold touched his lips. For a long moment, several of the eyes formerly on the duo at the bar shifted to him. Talking. Kenneth hated talking.
"Thank... you." Came the unsure reply, "Nice... ?" He paused, brow quirked, and searched for a way to put thoughts in to words, "...girl?"
Stupid brain.
Luxe was doing her rounds of the bar crowd in her normal way Poor, poor, untrained, poor, prostitute, poor, underpaid, and poor but with extravagant tastes. The last one she saw was the same one Ver'arda had complemented.
Ver'rada laughed a bit, "I don't think she'd appreciate me calling her, "Mine"."
She lightly grabbed Ver'arda's arm and quickly sent one word over to him NO before alowing him to speak again.
Ver'rada flinched slightly at Luxe, "... and now I know she won't appreciate it!" He went into thought, "... so I'll say she's... a *very* good friend of mine." Play it safe, kinda
He returned his attention to the other man, "So can you do anything with it? The knife."
Kenneth's posture relaxed, but hardly enough to be measured. It was the cybernetic limbs that made him still seem so tense. That, and the natural body language of any human being feeling slightly on edge. Seeming to pay no heed to the other patrons now watching this exchange, he set his glass down, and gave his answer.
"Lots of... things." He answered, "Spin. Toss. Kill... if made to." Truth be told, Kenneth was a bigger fan of keeping his enemy at range with a good rifle.
Luxe quirked a small smile on her face at the little addendum to his combat policy. She put her hand on Rampage's. He's hesitant, is that good or bad?
He's either confused on how to handle this, he's bluffing, or he's hesitating on whether to make a scene or not. Ver'rada nodded at the man, "Sounds like some useful skills, but how do I know if you're bluffing? Care to demonstrate a small display of your... abilities?" Let's see about bluffing, shall we Luxe?
For a moment, Ken didn't move. He sat where he was, off-white fingers tentatively holding a glass in one hand, and a sharpened killing implement in the other. Normally this wasn't a combination for anything safe. Especially not in some downtown bar where a challenge had just been issued. In a place like this, backing down would throw a lot of shame on the stranger in the eyes of the people there.
A glass. Drinking. Approximately eight ounces and placed in front of the man who had just issued the challenge. The systems in his mind read off this info to him and showed it for his eyes only on one side of the glassy surfaces. A challenge had been issued, so it must be returned. Kenneth sat up, slowly at first, and the blade once more began to dance between his fingers. It picked up speed as he stepped away from his booth, twirling between the digits, the handle grazing the palm, but never moving so fast as that he would lose control.
Then, it snapped. Blade pinched between the thumb and forefinger, handle up. It wasn't a weapon optimized for projectile combat, the systems reminded him, but it would do. His arm reeled back and an instant later, snapped forward. Those who tracked it would watch as it slammed in to the table with a solid-sounding -thunk-. The glass, barely caught, now sported a new mark at it's base, and spun for a few moments in a lazy circle. Kenneth was motionless, still in the thrower's pose, and eyes locked on the blade.
Luxe took her hand off of his, Wow it appears the lower class can be taught funny tricks after all. Whose wrong and unethical now mom? She spoke up for the time in her normal disinterested tone, "That's all well and good but what else can you do?"
Ver'rada didn't flinch at the knife, he'd seen that happen before. "Impressive... but nothing I haven't seen before." He shrugged, pulling the knife out of the glass, and slid it down the bar back to the man, "Got any other tricks?" He placed his hand on Luxe's for a second, He wasn't bluffing. But let's see if he gets a bit mad?
Any other tricks?
Kenneth gave the two that same analytical gaze as before, hand reaching down to retrieve the knife as it reached him. There was the sound of a tiny lock mechanism opening and a sheath of sorts could be seen on the inside of his left arm. With a deft movement, the blade was placed there, and tucked away for safe-keeping. Few people in the world were allowed to demand more of Kenneth than he was willing to give, and these -- this hulky Lorath and his arrogant-looking partner were not "them".
"You... no master." He said, face seemingly stoic despite the hints of venom beginning to seep in to his words, "I have... nothing to prove." He squared his shoulders and took a step back, obviously to return to his booth, "I know me. Not worth... fights, for proof."
Luxe was unable to the detect arrogance of someone who thought higher of themselves in his comment, she instead heard someone who knew his place but presumed too much. All in all it was funny, so funny she had no choice but laugh "It's you job to fight, its your job to serve people, and its your job to do as we tell you."
She stood up and looked at the reclusive man. "Now prove you know more tricks, NOW."
Ver'rada allowed Luxe to talk while he focused, Good thing alcohol helps the shifting. He started to shift his favored arm, the right arm. Anyone paying attention to him would notice it, and some stared, in wonder or horror, only the person themselves knew.
Kenneth felt something in him twist at the woman's words. He had just begun to turn around when she had started talking. He gave her the decent courtesy to face her as she did. And he listened. As much as he wanted to spring, snap, and bash in her face with the nearest piece of furniture -- he listened. He was two things. The first was well-conditioned to his emotions from early on in life. The second was keenly aware of the large Lorath man with her. He could fight her, yes. Probably kill her, if he wished. But her friend would be the real problem. Still, a former slave would not so freely return to the chains.
The sound of that sheath's locking mechanism unlatching could be heard, and his fingers gracefully caught the handle, while the blade itself was held covered by the length of his arm. His jaw began to clench and unclench, a reaction that the last master-doctor had told him he needed to stop to keep his teeth healthy.
"Make me." No profanity. No anger. Only the challenge. His stance was that of a fighter's, and he would fight.
Ver'rada tapped Luxe with his unshifted hand, he knew she hated his shifting, thought it was ugly or some such, He will fight, and he's not half bad either by the looks, careful Luxe.
Don't worry I just want to see how he reacts. After all only one knife vs a stone thread jacket, a staff, a gun, and you, how hard could it be.
Don't underestimate anyone, if you noticed, he's been pulling that knife from a sheathe in his arm. Who says he can't have more lying around inside him? That also means it won't hurt him to hit him there. Ver'rada added, Also, that jacket doesn't cover your entire body, you have weak spots just like me.
We need to test him some way, unless you got a better plan. I'll start this fight right here. Also I can defend myself very well, thank you.
Ver'rada shrugged, Have it your way.
Nobody seemed to move, but Kenneth had been in enough fights to know what was happening. They wanted him to make the first move. To go charging for the girl and leave his flank open for that hulking Lorath who had been -- growing his arm since she had first started talking. Kenneth had faith in his framework, but he didn't know how hard that man could punch. He didn't want to take that chance. If this was a fight, it was going to be one of two kinds. It was one to prove himself, or it was one to live. They way they talked showed they had no intentions of anybody dying.
Kenneth reached up, and slowly undid the buttons of the shirt he wore. The light-blue shirt was pulled off and cast on to a nearby table to show the tank top, and the full extent of his cybernetic arms underneath. After all, that shirt was new. A good slave knew the value of something they owned. He wouldn't expose the legs under the jeans just yet. He needed to have at least a few aces up his sleeve, after all.
"Come on... girl." He let the faintest traces of a scowl cross his face, "Swing. If you are... master. Crack... the whip." His grip on the knife handle tightened.
Luxe looked him in the eye patiently, she kept her hands off both of her weapons not wanting him to think she would commit to either of her combat forms.
"So slave you think you know what a master should be like? I've owned slaves that could wipe the floor with your augmented body." She took a step to her right side moving closer to one of the tables in the bar.
Ver'rada watched, Best play smart Luxe, I'm not the fastest person in the world, just the strongest. He clenched his right hand into a tight ball.
Kenneth watched Luxe move. She was armed, but she wasn't going fo -- she was holding her cards. He had the growing feeling that an arm luck with this girl before she was disarmed would get a gunshot in his stomach. He was smart enough to catch that. He had a second blade. He didn't need this one.
The first whipped for the Lorath's arm. And in that same motion he charged across the distance at the young woman, but didn't dare make himself a straight-line target. He kicked himself down and made slide to impress any string-1 athlete for her feet.
Luxe reacted the second the knife was thrown, she rolled over the table and in the same motion pulled out her staff using its extra weight to quickly turn her to face the current threat.
Ver'rada ducked down, and moved to the side to avoid the knife, It wouldn't hurt too much if it hooked my right arm, it'd bleed some though. After that, he merely sat back in his chair, and resumed watching, waiting to see if Luxe needed him.
The systems in his brain fed the info. The Lorath, a quick glance up from the floor showed, had avoided the blade, but apparently had no intent on following up the fight. The female was now on the other side of the table with a staff.
He curled up, placed his hands on the floor near his head, and gave two pushes. The first was a kick to the table to send it flipping for the woman, wood splintering with the boots' impact. The second was to whip back on to his feet. He was bare-fisted now. As far as either of the two of them would know. That was good. He turned to face the woman, stance ready for an incoming strike. Perhaps to catch the staff if she got to daring with her swings.
She used the staff to propel herself away from the table. Not in any rage state good quality to have, keeps them docile. What is your trigger? She moved again towards a table in almost the same manner as before with only the staff as a difference.
Kenneth shook his head, "I won't play... games." The scowl returned, as fleeting as ever, "Fight me. Or keep... running."
He tightened his fists, shifted his stance, and turned himself to follow her in a circle.
He consistently kept her in front of him, ready to fight, but not making an advance just yet. He knew a game of chase when he saw one, "I've seen... "real" masters. Tough souls. Fighters... like me. Killed... not run like... cowards. You are less."
She began to twitch a his comment and she felt herself reaching for her gun Don't do it he's trying to get under you skin he is lesser, he is LESSER, HE IS LESSER.
With a massive grin on her face she continued her dance and simply said, "You wouldn't understand we master live to reserve knowledge from our sla..... OH FUCK NOT YOU!, what the hell do you want?"
"I'm a mechanic, my job isn't to find people its to fix the ship, cap'n shoulda sent the lizard down but nooooooo he was to busy doing something else." VIlivi grumbled to herself as she meandered down the alleyways looking for the rest of the crew members.
She had been in the middle of fixing the linkup she had started on before she got into her brawl with Luxe when she was told to go hunt down the other crew members who had apparently gone missing earlier that day. Vilivi had protested briefly but had decided against it and had gone out on the town with her tool belt still strapped to her.
After searching several bars and other hiding holes with no luck she was about to give up and go back to the ship, when suddenly her ears picked up the sounds of a fight coming from a nearby bar. If I had to put money on it, I'd say they were in there..
Dashing across the street and into the bar she saw one of her fellow crew members fighting it out with a rather tall and tan cybernetically enhanced Nepleslian.
Hopping up onto a nearby bar stool to get a better look, she turned to some other patrons, "Five DS on the tan guy if any of you guys are takers."
"You bitch, this should remind you of something shouldn't it? People screaming amounts just to get you in their favor, hope its familiar." She kicked the table over to him at the same time she pointed the revolver at is stomach Time to test your will slave.
There had never been shouts. Never jeers or calls, normally. Only in the arena for a short time, and they were now in the cold vacuum of space. Always computer messages and pre-arranged prices before he ever saw the new master. This woman's experience with slaves was rather white collar.
The table was too far to pose a threat to him, where he was, but the revolver was a more pressing issue. He could roll, dive, and probably get a knife in her stomach cleanly enough to take a lung. But he'd be lucky if it was a bone that caught the round without shattering it -- the bone or the bullet. He had a gun as well, secured on his leg. He'd need cover.
"No master. A slave... with... frills." He shook his head, a look of something akin to pity on his face, "I was you... once. No more." And then he smiled, "And you won't shoot."
Don't shoot, it's a test. Don't let him into your head... Frills?... you're better then that, don't shoot. In complete disregard of her conscience, she fired two shots one for his gut the other a foot to his right.
Kenneth moved. Or Kenneth tried to move. It wasn't a full impact and he wouldn't lose an organ, but the crimson trail across his stomach was a sign that she would, in fact, shoot. Yet he was not down out of the fight. As he fell, he threw a table down with him, and used it as cover for the few moments it took him to draw his own sidearm: a semi-automatic. He popped up and quickly fired off two shots of his own. He was not so generous as to aim a false shot. Both were aimed for her stomach. Time for talk was quickly dying as patrons scattered to avoid the gunfire.
That self-elevating bitch!
Laying behind his new-found, if admittedly feeble cover, one hand rested over the new wound. It stung, it burned, and only past experience let him know he wasn't about to die.
Viliv booed as her chosen bet took a shot to the chest. "Who called guns? That's not fair!" The man next to her gave her a sly grin as she pulled out a few slips of paper and put them into his palm, grumbling as she paid him. As the rest of the patrons started to scatter Vee stayed on her bar stool, picking up a glass that was left by one of the fleeing patrons either way she would have to drag the others back to the ship and she might as well enjoy the show.
The first bullet caught on her jacket while the experience wasn't pleasant she could ignore the possibly broken rib 'till later. The second bullet grazed her hand forcing her to drop her revolver. I like him, definitely worth buying.
"Ver'rada I like him, he's worth keeping, now please make him count as luggage instead of a passenger."
"He must be worth something, he got you..." Ver'rada turned towards the table that the man was hiding behind, "...which means, he's my new target."
Ver'rada tipped over his chair standing up, and picked up the table, with little effort. "Well, I guess here we go." Ver'rada threw the table, it whipped through the air, and smashed the man's table into pieces. Some of the shards cut him. Ver'rada merely grabbed another table.
Shit.
That seemed concise enough to summarize this new situation. His cover was obliterated and the only thing saving his eyes was the fact that he shielded his face with his arms. He rolled away from the now rather exposed spot on the floor. Moving sufficiently away from the quite obviously angry Lorath, he got in to a crouch. He turned and fired three quick shots off for the Lorath's center-mass. He had four more, and he doubted that this new fighter would afford him time to reload once he ran out.
He dashed for the nearest more solid cover, behind the bar itself.
Ver'rada caught the rounds with the table, "Come on now! Are you going to run like a coward, or fight like a man?" He laughed, "I mean... I don't have to fight, you could just tag along." He had continued to shift the rest of his body, while he spoke. "I don't think you want me to catch you."
"He's already cost me 20 DS, hell knock him out for all I care." Vilivi chirped up from her spot, taking a long sip of her drink. "Hell I got my wrench here if you need it."
"I don't need a wrench, the only thing I'm fixing is this guy's state of mind. I'll let you know when I need a wrench." Ver'rada called as he continued shifting. If she's got her wrench, and Luxe is injured over there... I will kill her.
Kenneth took the moment to pop up from behind cover. With an ushering movement, he shooed the young bartender to head for the back. Danger wasn't good for one's health. He took aim at the ever-shifting Lorath's face.
"Take me two ways... Lorath." He steadied his aim, "Dead... or chains." He stopped his own movements, now seemingly resolute, "But don't... take off chains." That fleeting scowl, yet again, "I'll kill... everybody. Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon. In sleep. Or awake. Doesn't matter. A slave free... never goes back to pens."
He didn't pull the trigger again. Yet. That damn table was still there and he knew the Lorath would be quick enough to stop it.
"Well, what about offering a job? Free men need to make money somehow, and you seem to know how to kill. Best stick to what you know, right?" Ver'rada had finished, he could probably crush the other man with his hands. "So you won't be in chains, you won't be dead, and you'll still be free."
"That... easy?" He laughed. This was a painful ruse, at best, "Fine. Two rules. She..." He motioned to Luxe off in the back, "... apologizes. And then no more words... to me. She is... a child. And second?" He paused, in thought, "Private bunk." Yet that pistol never left the Lorath's face. As mighty as the man obviously felt he was, even he could be killed.
Luxe poked her uninjured middle finger from behind her table "Nope, not happening."
Ver'rada considered, Getting the bunk was easy. Getting Luxe to apologize... not easy. He doubted he could make Luxe apologize to a former slave, that just was something she couldn't do.
"That bunk, not hard at all to grant, we got plenty. But, ah, you might want to retract your demand for an apology from Luxe, I kinda doubt you'll ever hear one." I mean, I've probably got more apologies from her than the total number of times she's apologized.
"Hard to get anything nice out of her." Vee said walking over to where the two were talking."Vilvi Kolvi, ships mechanic. Cap'n sent me to hunt these guys down might as well bring you back, we could use more hands seeing as the birds out of order." A slight grin crossed her face as she looked at the injured Luxe, If I'm not allowed to openly fight her anymore might as well get this guy to do it for me.
"That, or I... walk." He motioned to the door, "You won't stop me." He didn't say that as a challenge, or as a possibility. It was uttered as a statement of fact.
He looked to the new woman, "Kolvi. You bet... for me." He paused for a moment, "Sorry. I will earn that back... again." Back to the Lorath, "If the frill slave..." A smile, "... apologizes." The smile fell, "Later. A doctor now... would be nice."
No amount of time is getting an apology for you buddy. Ver'rada glanced at Vilvi, "Smacking someone with a chair doesn't deserve anything nice." He called to the man, "Let's go get you one then."
"Well getting you to a doctor is all fine and dandy, but I gotta take these two back to the ship eventually."
"Take him to the doc, I'll take Luxe." Wouldn't want your wrench to have a reunion. Ver'rada set the table down and sat next to Luxe, deshifting before he finally scooped her up. "I'll see you around the ship..." Ver'rada paused... "Ah... do you have a name? Mine's Ver'rada."
Kenneth paused as he moved to go around the bar to join up with Vilvi, "I am... Kenneth. Kenneth Hesser."
"Alright then Kenny, lets find you a doc." Vee said walking out the door, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that were left on the table, popping one in her mouth and searching her belt for something to light it with. " I may be small but I move fast, so try and keep up, I don't want to come look for your ass as well."
"See you around, Kenneth." Ver'rada popped out the door, not caring about the destroyed tables and other damage. Happens a lot As he left, he allowed Luxe to share her pain with him, he didn't mind a bullet wound.
- - - - - - -