+- Discovery Gaming Community (https://discoverygc.com/forums)
+-- Forum: Role-Playing (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=9)
+--- Forum: Stories and Biographies (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=56)
+---- Forum: Watering Holes (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=149)
+---- Thread: "Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok (/showthread.php?tid=5060)
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - Koolmo - 12-19-2007
Play Me! Play me good!
Atop Zvezdny Gorodok sits a large, rotating hub. Most passers-bye assume the hub contains a station headquarters, an observation post, or at worst, some kind of evil ship-watching station for a socialist admiral to watch passing souls. It is all this, and more.
It's a pub.
With plate-glass windows and a raised, 8-foot high catwalk, it's perfect for the observation of passing ships, or for drunken contemplation of the stars. Tables litter the place in no particular order, and Coalition souvenirs littler the walls. A chunk of the hull of HMS Terra, Grand Admiral McIntosh's original ship, which he defected to the Coalition with. The Pistol used to execute former High-Chanceller Aeon. A massive, unexploded Nova torpedo, revently taken from the hull of the M'zav'koh, and Admiral Kirk's favorite item. An ancient suit of Powered Space armour, MK-CCH-347-2, leans against the wall, with blood still spattering the hands, and a Golden Star painted upon the chestplate.
The feature of the collection, though, is rather small and unassuming. An old fashioned, brass telescope, with the words "Maxim Gorky, April 30th, 1938", and the Hammer and Sickle engraved upon the side. It's history is documented upon the brass plaque at the bottom of it's holder, but it's unknown how or when it got the Sirius Sector. Excpt it's owner, of course, but he's not telling.
Eugne Weise sits beside the jukebox, banging his head to the beat. "Lads, the USSR had to be an amazing place to live, if he was so happy to get back there! Just listen to all the poon-tang!" The other pilots stare at him in amazement, then go back to their drinks quietly. Sometimes, discretion seemed to be the better part of valor.
A slight stir at the front, as a cloaked, masked, and angry-looking pilot stomps in. Scattering a cluster of junior lieutenants off the M'zav'koh, he makes a b-line for Eugen.
"Weise! Why the h*ll is your zoner-infested ship parked in my spot?!"
"Heya there, Commander Totenkopt. Well, my spot has a cargo lifter in it, and I decided that rather than shooting the pilot, I'd park in your spot and let you do it."
"Fine then! Gimmie your sidearm!"
"Aight..." Eugen pulls a nastly looking, massive projective weapon from a low-slung holster, checks the chamber, and hands it over.
"Jesus! What calibre is this monster?" asks Totenkopt, jacking a round into the chamber, and slipping it under his cloak.
"Uuuh... I believe it's .65, although I was a little wasted when I bought it. Nice though, eh? Could blow a hole though the flagship with that puppy!"
"Right... well, I'll go shoot that cargo hauler, then make his buddies move his ship. If the recoil hasn't snapped both my wrists, anyways..."
[color=#FFFFFF]//SCRA and co. only. If you want to post, PM me or blunt. Or both. Every post MUST include a song of whatever happens to be playing on the jukebox, or I'll ask for its removal. And the songs can't suck, either. If I hear anything Emo, someone will be holding ice down the back of their pants...
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 12-19-2007
A nervous looking, casually dressed Corsair man saunters in, conveniently getting to the jukebox as Eugen's song ends, before anyone else can get to it.
As his song comes on he dances his way up to the bar, badly.
"Hola there, chica, uh, I mean, comrade...uh, me no speaka la Coalition, si?" he says, trying to apologise for the fact that he isn't local.
The barmaid smiles,
"You picked a good song... what are you drinking, comrade?"
The Corsair flinches, being called 'comrade' by a young lady almost hurts him...
"Uh... it's Afonso, chica, not 'comrade'... and I'll have anything that isn't Vodka, if that's okay, si?"
The girl laughs,
"But you called me comrade... anyway, a Corsair by the looks of you... one Cadiz lager coming up, Afonso."
He grins as she winks at him, very embarassed, and turns to the rather empty bar(seeing as the junior lieutenants fled a certain Commander...), deciding to sit next to one of the few people there.
"Hola, amigo!" he says as he sits next to a uniformed individual, his insignia saying that his name is Lieutenant Commander Eugen Weise. He had just finished speaking to a superior officer by the looks of things.
"I heard you speaking to the masked man... I must say... I'm sure I recognise your voice from somewhere..."
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - Koolmo - 12-20-2007
As the next song comes on, Eugen leans back expansively. "You see, comrade, Totenkopt isn't like the rest of us. He's been in the revolution longer than some of us have been alive, including myself. He was detached with his fighter wing to aid the Order during the nomad war, and that was before Anyone had even heard of the SCRA. Don't ask about his mask, either, he's kinda touchy on the subject..."
"Well, uh, compadre, why do I recognise you? I don't think I've seen you, but your voice... I know I've heard it."
"Comrade, asking questions like in the middle of a pub full of semi-corked, well-armed, and usually violent coalition soldiers is like sticking your co-"
From the Elevator foyer comes the sound of several rapid, loud shots. In their echoes, Totenkopt comes striding back into the pub, blowing smoke from the hand-cannon in his gloved fist. His mechanical eyes seem to flare an even brighter red, and if an innanimate mask could grin like a cheshire cat, it would've.
"Well 'Lucky', here's your piece back, I think I blew through the whole clip though, but it was worth it. Damn cargo-haulers, thinking they can park in your spot. Now, move your fighter, before I have to blow a hole in it, too."
Afonso's eye bugg right out of his head at the mention of 'Lucky', but before he can open his mouth, Eugen's boot slams into his knee, and he refrains.
"M'okay, Sir. I'll get right on that. Say, you want to get a brew with me and... Red, wasn't it? He's been runnin supplies for us for a good while, apparently."
Totenkopt's face turns towards Afonso, and back to Eugen. "Weise, it's bad enough that you and Al'Rahan have to shack up, but picking up a... civilian? Honestly..."
"Hey!" Eugen stands, and begins to reach beneath his fashionably hip-long cloak. "I resent the implication that I pick up random..." He peters out as his hand comes back empty.
"Looking for this?" Totenkopt spins Eugen's distinctively large pistol offhandedly, then tosses it to him. "Saftey's on. I hope you have some more rounds, the cargo-hauler's union is going to react badly to this one..."
"Godd*mn Unions! Afonso, you don't know anything, and if you do, keep it to yourself! Seen?"
"Uuuh... Seen, comparde?"
"Good! Keep it that way! Now, if you'll escuse me, sir, I need to go shoot something wearing an orange flightsuit."
"Uum... I think cargo haulers wear yellow. Orange is flightdeck crew."
"Whatever, I'm colorblind anyways. I'll just shoot the nearest flourescent thing, and go from there..."
Afonso stared in horror as Eugen strode towards the elevator, stepping over the yellow arm draped across the doorway. It was doubtful whether or not it was still attached to it's owner, but the owner certainly wasn't still alive. It couldn't be, jusdging by the amount of blood pooling onto the deck.
"Oh, by the way," Toenkopt said, "you might want to watch out if you're going to 'spend time' with Eugen. He has a strange penchant for whips and biting... people think I'm a vampire..."
He gestured to the barmaid and left, leaving Afonso wishing he'd just stayed aboard ship.
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 12-28-2007
Afonso, again in the bar on Cape Verde, sat listening to the ancient music, sipping at his beer, thinking that this place's tunes certainly made up for the random eccentricities shown by the regulars.
Hell, they were nowhere near as bad as the boozers in the Dublin system and at least they laid off the drugs. Well, they had plenty Synthetic Mary Jane, its purple haze filling the room, but they stayed away from Cardamine, a policy Afonso approved of, being from Planet Crete himself.
He sipped at his beer, feeling rather relaxed thanks to being half-stoned on the room's ambient smoke. He was to meet his buddy, Ares, for a beer and to inform him on the policies of his new contacts in the Farmer's Alliance.
Ares arrived on time, as expected, but looked... different.
He was in full dress uniform. Sure, it followed the standard Coalition "any colour so long as it's black" philosophy, but he had lost the bandana around his neck and sported the somewhat embarassing cape often seen on the likes of Captain Al'Rahan and Lieutenant Commander Weise. Afonso snickered at Ares' get up, much to his bemusement.
"Enough sass, Afonso, my first diplomatic mission just took a turn for the bloody worse, amigo..."
He plonked himself down on the seat next to Afonso after signalling to the barmaid for a beer. Afonso raised an eyebrow in wonder at his friend's stress.
"Grand-damn-Admiral McIntosh is going to be conducting the negotiations with the Farmers... My first diplomatic mission and it'll probably degenerate into me trying to stop him from commiting murder for a laugh. Fan-bloody-tastic..."
Afonso understood. McItosh was known for relying on his men's efficient insurgent tactics and strategies to run the Revolution, whilst he himself gave it a terrifying and charismatic human face. He was, essentially, a murderous lunatic.
Afonso groaned...
"Unfortunately, my brother, the information I've got for you isn't good. It isn't good at all..."
Ares swore, and not terribly quietly, and buried his head in his hands as Afonso continued...
"The Farmers' Alliance are not the Revolutionary group we thought we were contacting, amigo. They care not for Revolution, but for the status quo. They are essentially puppets of the corporation known as 'Samura'. They want to reestablish Samura's stranglehold on the food industry in Kusari so that they can make more cash. Essentially, they are a selfish and greedy group of Capitalist thieves and pirates..."
Ares groaned, in a similar fashion to Afonso, as the barmaid arrived with his drink.
"This is going to be a long week..."
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 01-10-2008
Richthofen sat across from his old friend, the masked recon commander, Totenkopt. It had been years since they'd seen face-to-face, actually. Come to think about it, they weren't truly face-to-face right now, either, with Totenkopt wearing his death-mask. Unfortunately, the mood was grim, the conversation not being one of reminiscing but of an 'unruly' pilot.
Jan had turned on a most chilling theme, fitting the tone.
"Damn, we've got a lunatic in our forces... Voronov has apparently lost his mind. Poor bastard. I've checked the files... amnesia... delusions of grandeur... the poor kid's become a liability. Early retirement on medication is probably the best option..."
Totenkopt shook his head, remaining silent. Jan continued...
"...Captain Ares says that he was committing treason, too. I know the boy has had a history of ill-discipline... but never like that. Ares' testimony has me convinced that he is no longer sound of mind. He cannot be allowed to fly a ship, he may be a danger to his comrades, my friend."
The lights seemed to dim in the desolate bar as Totenkopt rose...
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 03-04-2008
Ares sat in the bar as a somewhat alternative marching theme aided his concentration on the task at hand. He sipped his beer as he tinkered with something on a portable computer.
Even on leave, he was working for the Revolution, and although he found this work much more difficult than flying a fighter, it was much more relaxing.
He hesitated, wondering if he should order another beer. He was off-duty after all, but he wanted to get this right... the Captain then had the barmaid bring him some water as he contacted his 'teacher'...
"Lieutenant Commander KeSi, Xing, I'm about to forward you a potential image to be distributed in Liberty by our sleeper cells... apparently it's an old album cover or something that I've edited a little, but copyrights are illegal here anyway... tell me what you think!"
He forwarded the image to his subordinate, hoping that it went down well.
![[Image: bluntpencil2001bertybw.gif]](http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z83/bluntpencil2001bertybw.gif)
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - Xing - 03-04-2008
Xing didn't came often to Cape Verde, and wasn't exactly a great fan of alcohol, but he felt he needed some kind of distraction - anything! from his work for the Coalition.
His datapad suddenly blinked to life, as he received a short message from Captain Ares, with a picture. Xing smirked at the amusing picture, but didn't replied yet. Instead, he searched for the source transmission and found, as he guessed, the captain was in the bar. Good, there might be some entertaining distraction after all....
Xing entered the crowded bar, and stopped to look curiously at the music player. He shrugged, and smiling, configured it to an old song...
He approached the booth where captain Ares sat, whispering the few words of russian he understood in the song as listened to it.
"Good day captain! Might I say, I am very impressed by this picture you've found, I'm sure more than one Libertonian will find this full of irony! Maybe - just maybe, even our dear Xenos fascist neighbors would spread these things with good will haha!" He smiled and sat down, as he pushed for a few buttons on his datapad, and laid it on the table. An integrated holoprojector began to glow, and slowly rendered a large poster, as Xing continued to talk,
"Now, in exchange, I believe this might interest you, I took some freedom to improve your latest propaganda poster, here, take a look captain..." he said with enthusiasm;
![[Image: 0001iq7.jpg]](http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/7397/0001iq7.jpg)
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 03-04-2008
Ares' jaw dropped before he could respond,
"That's awesome, Xing! Heh, that'll show those fascists in Rheinland! Not only do we have better ethics, morals and soldiers, but now the people will see that publicly! We just need a way to get them everywhere...
...whoa, whoa... what the hell is this music you've got on?! We need rock!"
He launched himself from his seat, fetching a beer in celebration whilst en-route to the jukebox. A strange noise emerged, and before anyone could ask, Ares announced,
"Whales. Creatures from the deep, back on Terra..."
He looked out into the black,
"I wonder... if they are still there?"
He then shrugged, grinned and began to drink his beer as he returned to his little side-job...
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - Xing - 03-04-2008
"pff, whatever sir" Xing said with good humor. He opened the small computer installed at their booth, and programmed the next song which he downloaded from his do-all datapad to be played.
"I know I know, but I recently waited days to land without being detected on Manhatten to contact some operatives... can't believe all the funny garbage being spread by those libertonian imperialists - heck I even had to endure a religious chorus from a crazy Xenos..."
He then ordered a non-alcoholic drink, and begun to work on some incomprehensible mathematical formulas - actual equations of his prototype craft's aerodynamism, hull integrity, etc.
"Say captain", he asked suddenly, "is it me, or there are no other men and women of my people in that coalition?" frowning as he finished, looking concentrated on a perticularly complexe formula.
"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok - bluntpencil2001 - 03-04-2008
"Your people? We are y-... oh, right...
You mean noodle-munching mathematics geniuses, right?" said the Captain with a cheeky grin, as the barmaid changed the song to something a touch more explicit, but it seemed to please the now busy bar.
"Those of Chinese and East Asian origin, hmm. A large amount serve in engineering, actually... seriously, I'm not joking... in the engine rooms and gun batteries of the Karl Marx as well as the Ho Chi Minh. In fact, I believe that ninety percent of the Ho Chi Minh's crew is of such an origin... although, to be fair, its Captain is a Rheinlander... who is now fluent in both the ancient tongues of Mandarin and Cantonese, I do believe...
Aside from that, in the fighter wing, there's yourself and Lieutenant Gabriel Mau... a Libertonian of Asian descent, I think... he looks the part but has a Liberty accent."
Captain Jovem smiled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, with his good arm of course, the robotic left one might have broken something.
"Is that what you wanted to know?"