[ISC Chimera] Another Bar, Another New Face

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.

- - - - - - -

- - - - - - -

ZE DOCKTOR IS IN

It seemed surprisingly convenient that the four newly gathered crew to only need to walk a few minutes up the street to find a clinic, a collection of signs hung from the sign. The Nepleslian red cross, a slightly crude staff and snake, and a number of others that obviously meant something to some species somewhere, a prominent one was orange. Even Luxe recognized one as a Lorath sign of medical assistance.

In the street in front of them the usual ruckus dimmed slightly as the crew walked, obviously their few days formation had already left an impact on the street. A few owners peered down nervously from out of office windows above their businesses.

With the nightly commotion on the street the presence of a clinic at first seemed strange, but if one of them recalled their own history of fights recently then suddenly it all seemed to make perfectly good business sense.

Luxe walked with Ver'rada using him as a battering ram for the crowds while she focused on keeping the pain out of her hand. When she finally got it under control the group was walking ever closer to a disgusting clinic on the side of a particularly rough looking street.

Wow that place looks worse then that piercing studio where I got my-, "Wait, are we actually going into that place?" She hugged herself as it suddenly got colder on the street.

Kenneth looked up from his pathetic semi-hobbling down the street. "Looks good," he took another one of those annoying pauses as he took a deep breath ",to me." he said, looking at the shabby clinic like a man who had been lost in the desert for weeks and had finally seen an oasis.

"You see any," deep breath, "other option right," breath, "now?" Already he was hobbling towards it determinedly.

Luxe put her memories of piercings aside and began following the sad wheezing slave into the massive clinic. "I can name hundreds of ways this will horribly wrong for us, just warning you all."

"Let it, I'm sure I can handle at least eighty different ways." Ver'rada stated.

Kenneth swung open the door eagerly and the crew shuffled inside.



In front of them was a small array of about half a dozen men with guns all looking away from them. In the middle of the room tied to a chair was what was obviously the doctor. One of the men was leaning down and talking to the occupied medic in a stereotypical accent from some long lost island.

"'Ne Doctor. You gnow you 'ave za personal thanks of za boss fer sav'in 'is life an' all, but ye booze expenses is costa the us a lotta molla."

The doctors eyes shifted over to the booze bottle on the counter.

"Yeh, that booze right der. Relieve 'em of 'is temptation, boys!"

The bottle shattered into atoms as one of the hired goons shot it. The doctor pouted.

Well thats just a waste Luxe looked over at the other crew members. She quickly sent a thought to Rampage. Are you absolutely sure we should do this?

Oh I'm sure we shouldn't, but we ain't got many other options. Got a better plan rather than me smash'in my way to victory? Ver'rada had started shifting the moment he saw the gunmen, so he was almost done.

As much as I enjoy you breaking people this maybe I can talk us out of this one.

Well, I'm not the best diplomat, but it goes to hell in a handbasket, I'll be ready.

Luxe took her hand a away from Ver'rada and steeled herself to stay calm in the face of that ridiculous accent. She stepped up to what had to be the leader of the band misfits "Boys, boys, what seems to be the issue with this man?" She subtly changed her voice into that of an air head as she began getting closer to the head guard, until she finally managed to press herself against him.

The apparent leader turned and smiled down, "Ah, the doctor, he is in great trouble. Just he 'as been taking advan'age of the bosses kindness by drinking mos' o' the booze meant fer medicinal reasons." The goon smiled and Luxe felt a pair of hands settle on her hips gently, clearly forcing the word medicinal to come out correctly, but pronouncing it wrong.

"It vahs medicine!" The doctor protested from his chair.

"Not fer you it ain't!" The goon snapped back, turning his head.

Luxe swallowed hard and resisted the urge to not vomit at the smell of cheap alcohol and even cheaper drugs. She moved her finger to begin tracing a line from his collar bone onto his chest and continued down. "Look, me and my... friends need the doctor to get a little patched up, and you're kinda cute. Sooooo why don't you go to a club down the road, wait for me there and then we can have some super crazy parties. I'll even call up my friends to make it more interesting. What do ya say?" She smiled back with a ditzy little smile and sent a subtle sensation of pleasure to the goon.

I guess I'm not the first guy she did that to, and I doubt he'll be the last. Ver'rada thought, and shrugged.

"Yeah, that' be nice." The goon said thoughtfully. "Judg'in by that hand of yoz, you're be needing the services of our neighbourhood doctor. Watch out fer 'em though, lost his license from tha drink. Not much where else to go but work'in for a mob clinic."

The goon nodded his head towards the door. "Come on, boys. He's had enough, and now de bleeders are start'in tah come in."

With that the group of guns holstered their weapons and filed out. The goon gave Luxe a firm grope on the buttocks in what was obviously meant to be a charming move and winked at her. "See ya later, cutie." Then he followed the rest of the posse out, the sad tinkling of the door bell the last sound of them.

The doctor stirred in his bonds uncomfortably after they left before speaking up. "Zo, vould one of you like to untie me?"

Luxe walked back to the main group " I just did more work then any of you even know, so have fun untying captain gangrene over there."

"I coulda done it too, just not as clean." Ver'rada replied, as he walked up to the doc, "So, gonna thank her first?" He was still shifted, skin gray, and even bulkier than usual.

"Bah, ze vould not have harmed me. I keep 'alf their customers rolling through." The doctor replied, bouncing up and down on the legs of the chair. "Now, do you want to stop bleeding or no? I just relax here then, ja?"

Ver'rada sighed, He's got a point "Yeah yeah, I'll untie you." He merely grabbed the ropes and ripped them apart, "There."

"Aahhhh!" the doctor sighed loudly with relief as four hands circled around and began rubbing each others wrists. "Even ze mighty grey savage can be brought to reason after all!" He said as he stood up and walked over to the counter, retrieving another bottle with lots of warnings all over it, popping the top and taking a swig, and kept going and going and going...

"Doc you have no idea." She shot a coy smile up to Ver'Rada.

"Keep saying that, Doc." Ver'rada returned Luxe's smile with a grin.

With a sigh the bottle was lowered and the doctor wiped his stubbled mouth. Now that he was in plain view they could see he was tall. Really tall. His four arms giving him away as an Abwheran. He was dressed in a slightly grubby white coat with grey trousers.

"Vell, who else are you going to have to patch you up on zis station, I'd like to know!" The Doctor answered, going back under and reemerging with a rather dented stethoscope. "No von, that's who! You think you can just walk into any other clinic on ze station? Nein!"

He cleared his thought as he pulled up a clipboard. "Now, zhere is ze verst patient?"

There was a wheeze from the corner. "If that-" breath, "guy is done- speaking fucking- gobbledygook. I'm fucking- dying here!" Kenneth tried to shout between deep breaths before keeling over onto the floor.

"Yeess, I zinc ve take care of the sperging one verst. No?" The doctor said, walking over to Kenneth and taking him by the shoulders and torso by three of his arms.

"Grab ze feet vold you, and ve get hem onto ze table."

"Like I'd need your help to lift him, he's a paperweight." Ver'rada quickly walked over and took Kenneth from the doctor.

"Careful! He must be moved width as little movement as possible. Who knows how much damage is done just from his walking here."

"Yeah, sure." Ver'rada gently placed Kenneth on the designated table, "If you're worth your salt, he'll be fine."

Luxe looked down at her hand while she was applying pressure the entire time up until the thugs entered the picture the bleeding had yet to stop. Damnit, why are they giving the slave more attention then me? Wow that's a lot of blood, must have hit a vein, weird. She suddenly began to lose her balance in the face of the constant blood loss.

"Ah verdammt!" The doctor announced as the young pilot fell. "And she looked like she vahs doing so vell too."

"Ah right, put her on the counter, ah vell be there in a moment. You, there. Girl!" He pointed to Vilivi over his shoulder. "You come here. You have smaller fingers than dis ruffian."

Ver'rada needed no command, he rushed over, and scooped Luxe up, Blood Loss? He asked via thought as he placed her on the counter, keeping a hand on hers.

Ver'rada would hear a faint moaning within his thoughts, she was responsive but clearly not aware of the immediate situation.

As the small neko came around herr doktor pulled out a pair of tweezers, a scalpel and a magnifying glass with a light attached to it.

"I see zis chappy has gotten quite a few injuries..." the doctor commented as he peered into the hole in Kenneths middrift. "Mongrels got him in the darms and the scheiße has gone everywhere!" The dokter grunted, muttering angrily in rapid fire abwheran swear words.

"Dis vill take more than a liquid bandage to fex, but for now..." the doctor reached for the bottle of booze again and tipped some into his mouth, but instead of ingesting he sprayed it from his mouth and onto pirates wounds a few times. The doctor nodded, satisfied.

Taking out a paper clip from a drawer and snaring it over the tweezers he lowered it down. "and now for a tiny winzige prise..." he muttered as he stuck in tongue out in concentration. "Alright girl, now give him some of this until he's good and tipsy. But not too much, I need zome too."

"Alright, now for ze little einfache mädchen." The doctor muttered as he came of to examine Luxe.

He lifted the hand up and peered at it, twisting to see the hole. "Ooooh, lucky girl. Missed the bones." he commented. He blew through the hole experimentally and giggled.

Ver'rada glared at the doctor, and growled, "No time for games."

"Ah, ja ja." The doctor nodded, remembering his job. "Probably just a little shock, only moderate blood loss."

With that, one of his hands reached again for the tweezer, he paused for a second and then dunked them into the top of a nearby open can of beer.

"Hygiene, very important." The doctor muttered and then the tweezers were in.

"Vell, not too much dead tissue, should be no problems with infection..." the doctor murmured as he worked.

The scalpel hand came through and gently began scrapping into the wound, as he worked the doctor hummed to himself. "You there, Ruffian!" the doctor said suddenly, pointing to one of the drawers. "Get me the tube of liquid bandage. Bitte beeilen sie!"

"Fine, yeah." Ver'rada threw the drawer open, and grabbed the tube, handing it to the doctor, "Here ya go."

"Danke." The doctor replied, not looking as one of his lower arms twisted around to grab it. "Ah expect more manners from my assistants in the future." he tutted as he got back to work.

The a tine dabble from the tube was smear into a small area of Luxes wound. "There, that should hold ze bleeding for a while. Now, we just need to close that muscle fibre, and she is good."

With that, the meat of Luxes hand was firmly tugged and prodded into relative position inside her hand, and the liquid bandage applied over it.

Job done, the doctor clapped all of his hands together. "Now, no alcohol for at least two days. Rub with alcohol if infected, and avoid physical exercise with it."

The doctors coattails spun as he turned to Kenneth, tittering over the prone body, still breathing. "You all pick him up in the morning. I will spend here with him, he be ready by tomorrow!"

They could distinctly hear what he muttered next. "Now vey does Nepleslian anatomy have to resemble a bag full of balls and bollocks bashed against a wall, every time..."

- - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - -

One sleep later.


The bell at the door twinkled surprisingly cheerily for the dark eeriness inside the clinic. It seemed the doctor had had a few more visitors during the night as a few groaning bodies lay across chairs and on tables.

The Doctor turned slowly with bloodshot eyes to the door to stare at who dared disturb his work at this unsociable hour of broad daylight. Or, at least as far as the station could emulate.

Luxe walked in behind Ver'rada and did nothing to conceal the look of disgust as Ektor stepped slightly into breathing distance of her...again. The big alien smelt faintly of burnt plant matter.

Ver'rada tapped her, He's not THAT bad. , "How's our... friend?" He asked the Doctor, not caring about how the Doctor looked.

"Your friend? He still lives, but the vhay he talks! I gave him some tranqs just so I would not have to hear any more of his nasal!" The Doctor replied, sounding relieved that they had actually turned up. "Alas, but ze brute, he snores too!"

Two of the doctors arms went up to dramatically cover his ears in exasperation.

The door to the infirmary chimed again as Vilivi brought up the tail of the group, her face and clothes still covered with traces of dirt and grease stains from spending most of the night working on the ship.

"So we tak'in this guy home or not?" she said her voice sounding more irritated than curious.

"Someone pick him up I can't take waiting here any longer." She made sure to stand with Rampage between her and Vilivi.

Ektor tipped his hat back, revealing a few chipped carapace plates on the top of his head and leaned down to sniff the new arrival. His four nostrils widening and a lip turning up to reveal a sharp tooth as he took in the scent.

"I told you to find me a cook." he growled finally. "This one stinks of powder and oil."

"You told ME to watch out for those two, no mention of finding a cook whatsoever." She narrowing her eyes at him as she spoke, "Whats so bad about smelling like powder and oil anyway?"

"He's probably barely capable of opening those little packets Nepleslian think are food!" Ektor replied, leaning back and snorting out the smell of Kenneth.

"At last we agree on something. Now lets dump wheezy and raid a cruise ship for a decent cook, maybe nicer furniture if it is not too much." She added with a shrug.

"Hey, he's not pointless, he can fight. That's helpful. I mean, I only have two arms to crush people with, he has two more, that's twice as efficient in people-crushing... if you carry the one." Ver'rada added.

Luxe shook her head although she normally could read Ver'rada like an open book, this time she couldn't actually figure out if he was serious or not Its gonna be a long day

As the others spoke Vee made her way up to the operation table, and grabbed one of the instruments that didn't look to sharp. "Oi meathead." She said poking him a few times in the ribs. "You awake?" After a few moments of not responding she poked him again before turning to the doctor "Think he's still broken Doc, sure you fixed him?"

"I told you. He is sedated. He will wake up in time." The doctor replied, snatching the implement out of Vee's hand with a spare arm. "Oh, and remember to thank ze Crime Boss on the way out. Whichever von is sponsoring this charade of medical care zis week."

Ektor took the Nepeslian in his arms and carried him to the door. "Excuse, my hands are full." He said as he waited for someone to politely hold the door open for him to get out.

Luxe simply waited watching the Lizard man attempt to balance the Neplesains body mass.

Ver'rada shrugged, and pushed the door open, gesturing for the group to hurry up. "Places to be... Things to do."

Not wanting to be left behind again, Vee quickly followed everyone to the door, stopping momentarily at the front desk to grab a handful of candy from the bowl sitting there. Popping a sucker in her mouth she put her hands behind her head as she strolled out the door. "All this talk about cooks makes me want some breakfast."

Luxe suppressed the urge to make a fat joke and simply said "Yes, breakfast would be nice... for all of us." It wasn't her best cover for a dead joke but she thought it worked.

Outside Drongo turned her large head towards them curiously, tilted it for second and then went back to staring at people across the street from where she was tied outside the door. More for peoples peace of mind than actual safety. Little doubt the big lizard could probably tear herself away and rampage down the street if she wished.

Luxe looked the massive lizard over "I'll walk again still not gonna ride that and I never will."

"Ah don't worry bout' that lizard," Ver'rada stated as he let the door close, as the group had left, "I could give you a ride if you want." He winked at Luxe.

Hey, I ride you enough as is. If I wanted to hop on another massive creature that could snap me in half on a good day, I'd just sit on top of the engines like Vee does. Luxe winked back at Ver'rada and suppressed a laugh as she walked past Vee.

Ektor placed the limp Nepleslian on a stretcher mounted over the big lizards back and tied him down before taking Drongo's reins and leading her around.

"Let's see if anyone's got the Over Hung Special on. Or whatever they call it here." he said, looking around the street.

While some of the party clubs were still open, most of the establishments were busying themselves ridding the traces of the night before activities. Along the street janitor bots also sprayed down particularity grubby sections. On the corner they spotted a small diner with a pair of rather frazzled looking men slouching in their chairs out front with their coffees on the table. Obviously this was recovery time.

"That place smells like actual food." Ektor commented after sniffing the air. He pointed towards where the two men sat on the outside tables.

Luxe looked over at the diner, real food sounded nice. Maybe if they sat away from the freaks this station calls a population she could enjoy herself.

"Over hung? Oh Hungover yeah maybe." Vee said as she walked next to Ektor and his Drongo, her mind still thinking about food, waffles in particular for some reason. As they passed the small diner she nodded her head over in its direction. "Ever been there before?"

"I try to eat in." Ektor replied, adjusting his hat. "Nepleslian food scares me, and the Yamataian stuff is so small it could barely feed a tiki."

The aliens big eyes turned towards his trusty steed beside him and then back to the group. "Maybe we should drop off our new friend here at the ship and come back?"

"Well minus two sources of terrible smell is always a good thing in my book." She didn't tell them that she left her money on the ship for fear of it being stolen.

Ver'rada shrugged, "Food, sure. I don't mind what we do first, but food would be nice."

"As much as I would like to leave our broken friend here while we eat, we should pry drop him off first." Vee said, a hint of disappointment in her tone, the waffles could wait to be properly enjoyed instead of worrying about some missing cargo.

And with that, the crew went back to their ship with Drongo waddling in the rear. As they walked up the back ramp to the Chimera's internal hangar their most honorable and captainy Captain stood waiting for them with his arms crossed.

"Ektor, why couldn't you find me a pretty one?" He demanded grumpily. It seemed clear that his last squeeze had probably slipped away from him, whoever she had been.

Ektor just pointed to the others in the group. Ramierez turned to them for a moment and then back to Ektor. "They have no taste, do they?"

"You say likewise of me, too." Ektor replied boredly.

"Statement wholly resented" said Luxe as she walked by the captain wearing the minimum amount of clothing possible as was the norm for her.

"I have taste.. though if i brought some broad on board you may not be the first to see her." Vilivi grumbled to herself before heading off for a quick shower and to grab some cleaner looking clothes.

"Well, I'm not sleeping with either of you two." Ramierez replied, then he stroked his chin in thought. Obviously imagining both girls with rather less clothes on. "No, no. It would just bring trouble." he said with a sigh.

Ver'rada cracked his knuckles, "Yeah, it would." He stated plainly.

Ramierez patted Ver'rada's cheek lightly. "There, there, diddums. No need for jealousy. Clearly she's not interested in me, sexy though I am."

Ver'rada recoiled, stepping back, "Jealousy does not reside here. Check a few doors down, you might find it there."

Ramierez just smiled. "We'll see, just make sure your girl and the cat get along, or I might have to develop some reconciliation techniques."

Ektor tipped his hat forwards humbly. "Permission to carry on, Captain."

Ramierez blinked as though remembering Ektor was there again.

"Yes, yes. Go put him somewhere, and get me a popsicle while you're out." he said, turning around and going up the elevator to the bridge.

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