Nathan stepped off of the shuttle which had landed at Alcatraz and took a quick look around. He'd never actually been to Alcatraz and quite honestly had no idea where to go. As he wandered the dark hallways looking for the ship dealer he passed several Rogues whose appearances suggested that they'd been hitting the cardi a bit hard lately. He tightened his grip on his briefcase.
As a somewhat respectable-looking Rogue passed him, Nathan stopped him and asked, "You wouldn't happen to know where the ship dealer is, would you?" "It's right down there." The rogue replied, pointing down another hallway that was absolutely indistinguishable from the rest by Nathan's untrained eye. I hate having to visit new places... Nathan thought. He wasn't exactly prone to straying from his comfort zone voluntarily. ...But I REALLY want one of those Hyenas. Nathan's eye had first been drawn to the ship when he happened to see a Rogue pirating in Galileo the day before. He wasn't about to let a simple thing like getting lost in a new base get in between him and his ship.
He walked into the large hangar where the ships were housed and was struck by the size of it. Considering the size of the depot, he hadn't expected to find this much space devoted to ship storage. He walked up to the salesman and spoke with him briefly. "That'll be 1.5 million," the vendor said. The vendor's eyes widened as Nathan placed his briefcase on the vendor's desk and it snapped open. "So that would be... 150 Sirius Credit Cards if I'm not mistaken?" "I... Uh..." The vendor fumbled with a desk drawer and pulled out an old-fashioned calculator device and started frantically punching in numbers. Nathan laughed quietly to himself. He'd never been one to trust Neural Net entry. He new a few good Hackers and knew what they were capable of. Guess they're no better equipped here than back home... He thought.
"Just tell me when the ship's ready, buddy. I'll be in the pub." Nathan smirked and walked away. Now if he could only find his way to the pub, his dramatic exit would be perfect... "Uh... hey! Whatever your name is!" The vendor shouted after Nathan. "What?" Nathan stopped. "The pub's the other way!" Nathan stood still for a moment then slowly turned towards the other hallway. Damnit. He walked onward, this time a bit less confidently.
Feeling proud of himself at having found the pub on his own (minus one small tip from the ship vendor), Nathan sidestepped a dark figure as she scurried out the door in the opposite direction. What the hell... Nathan thought. He shrugged and entered, glancing about quickly. Finally. He thought to himself. Something that Padua beats Alcatraz at. The pub wasn't exactly luxurious, but it would do nicely for a bit of downtime while he waited for his new ship to be outfitted. He found a stool next to the bar and took a seat. The bartender eyed him warily. "You new 'round here?" He asked. "Yeah, kinda. Name's Nathan. Nice to meet you." Nathan extended his hand to the man. The bartender stared at him for a moment as if he didn't know what to make of the simple gesture. He didn't return it.
"Just tell me what you'll have, kid." The bartender retorted. Nathan spun around in his stool and looked about the dark room. "I'll have what he's having." Nathan said as he pointed to a guy sitting in the back next to a girl and an old man. "Bretonian Port it is." The bartender turned and busied himself with preparing the drink. Nathan sat staring at the table as he waited when he realized that he recognized the man with his back turned. It was Clif Thurston, one of the Liberty Rogues' Underbosses. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been fearing a run-in with either Sylpheed or Eva Jones since he'd arrived, but neither would go too hard on Nathan so long as Clif was around. Or so Nathan hoped. "'Ere ya are, boy." The bartender slid the brew across the counter to Nathan. Nathan took a quick swig and stood to make his way to the table in the back.
"How's it going, Clif?" Nathan greeted Clif as he took a seat at the already crowded table. He winced as he saw the all-too-familiar form of a Cardamine apparatus lying on the table in front of the old man. He still hadn't shaken his horrible childhood memories of how the stuff had ruined his family. The old man glared at Nathan as if he'd just said something dirty about his mother; Nathan took a note of it and scooted away from him slightly.
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