Khaos. The name that has followed him for longer than he cares to remember. Not a name chosen by him but rather given to him by the local bounty hunters in the omicron systems. In truth he doesn't know his true name. Dropped out of an escape pod some couple of years after birth, that was all his 'parents' knew of him. That and, his insatiable nature to start trouble whenever possible. But that is a story best told over a cold brew.
As he strode through the door along with his companion he noticed the familiar smell of blood and sweat in the air. His flight boots stuck to the floor and the jukebox looked like something out of an antique museum.
"My kind of place" he thought to himself.
The bar didn't have a sign on the front, nor any indication that it actually was a bar until one stepped inside. His companion, a man who'd promised him 500mil for a job in Tripoli, followed closely behind him and once inside, took a seat at a nearby corner table. With a wave of the man's hand the bartender brought over two tall glasses of dark green liquid. Slug Brew they called it. A drink that would turn most mens' stomachs, Khaos had grown used to the thick liquor. As he took in a deep mouthful, his companion thrust his own mug into Khaos', smashing and shattering glass into Khaos' face. Dazed, Khaos was able to see the last glimpse of the man sprinting out the door laughing histerically.
"DAMNIT!" Khaos exclaimed. This wasn't the first time a patron had ran out on him before paying up. As he gathered himself back onto the table he considered going after the man, "I'll find him eventually..." Khaos considered to himself "I'm not about to waste any of this fine drink!" he said as he took one final gulp, spilling glass and blood into his mouth as he did so, it honestly tasted slightly better that way.
Upon exiting the bar Khaos had realized that the man had made off with his Legionnaire ship. "Now he's a dead man." thought Khaos. But without any credits left and no ship, there was not much a man like him could do.
So back to the nameless bar he went with his last 50 credits. The bartender didn't seem to even pass a second glance at him as Khaos sat on one of the bar stools, apparently used to this kind of thing. As Khaos sat drinking more of the thick green substance he began to engage in a mostly mundane conversation with the bartender.
"Tomorrow," Khaos thought "I'll... figure something out."
Siggy coming soon, <strike>currently deployed to Afghanistan.</strike> I'm Back!
