Roger walked into the pub and casually glanced around. He grinned as old memories came back to him. Of victory celebrations in this very room. Of sitting quietly with a Sidewinder Fang in one hand and a Bounty Hunter's identification card in the other. Stolen, of course. Like a medal to prove his worth, he always kept the ID of the Bounty Hunter Ace in his back pocket. Back when he was a Rogue.
The few times he managed to visit Alcatraz were even more meaningfull. Especially when he got to pirate some on the nearby lanes. He had been a Rogue for thirty years but for the last twenty of it he had been in the Cassini Guard. So he rarely got out of that radioactive hell-hole. But he was always a good shot with a Snack.
He hadn't brought the Artificial Sunset to Alcatraz, instead choosing his Roc. He never flew the old Barghest anymore. Turned out the Roc was a much better ship for Snacking fighters in the face. So the Artificial Sunset was simply sitting in Freeport One, taking up space. He considered giving it back to the Rogues, so some new pilot could have his fun. But he didn't want to yet.
He walked toward the standing bar. The bartender, a wizened eighty-year old who Roger knew could serve up a mean Fang, stared at him for a few seconds in silence. Then he finally opened his mouth to speak. His voice almost sounded rusty, like there was an obstacle course of loose throat for his voice to get past before it finally left his mouth.
''ey, I ain't seen you in 'ere for fourteen years. What's your name?'
'Claymore, Roger.'
Roger could see the man lose his interest in the events in the pub as he searched his memory for any mention of that name. Finally, he stared back at Roger.
'Oh yeah. I've been hearing stuff on the neural net about you. You've been in a lot of trouble down south, 'avne't ya?'
Roger grinned back at him. 'It's the way I like. Ain't got many friends down in tha Omegas. But when ya profits are in tha 'undreds o' millions, ya don't need many friends. Course I still got some fans.' He chuckled.
'I saw that open transmission you made about that scamming of the Junkers. At least you've got the guts to piss on the Junkers shoes 'n not care about the consiquences. Now, what can I get ya?'
'Sidewinder Fang. Strong as you can make it. I was at tha Beast's Belly a few days ago, but I'm sure your drinks are much stronger than tha ones there.'
He watched as the bartender created the concoction and gave it to him. He took a swig. Strong as the backbone of a battleship. Just the way he liked it. He told the bartender he'd have a large steak aswell and took his drink to sit down at a table with. Stared around at the other people in the bar. Didn't recognise any, but a lot could change since he left.
He'd only left the Rogues a few months ago to make his own fortune, but it'd been fourteen years since he'd visited the Alcatraz pub. Fourteen years. Nothing had changed. But he wasn't there for a particularly social visit, although he always liked to pop on by to any nearby station and get a decent bite to eat. He was actually hoping to get to talk to some high-up Rogue leader.
He wondered if anybody would recognise him. He wondered if anybody would care. He wasn't going to approach a high-up Rogue. He was curious if that high-up Rogue would approach him. Because he had a plan that would make them all very, very rich. Nothing compared to the money he had made now. A real operation.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
