"The day we get those pirates out of our system is the day we can run clean." Says a nearby freelancer, who just docked with planet Erie with a load of consumer goods.
"Yes, but if you can talk nicely and make enough money, you won't have to worry about it." Says Matt, pilot of a gull, docking for the sake of needing a drink. "What I need is a group of people willing to run clean and keep the peace. I know a brother-in-law looking for a job. Maybe I can start something up."
"You need a navigation's expert?" says the freelancer. "Name's Mike. I know a run that's clean. Worth it for those who don't mind long runs. No mining involved. And the Neon here at Erie is cheaper than anywhere in Sirius. And there's nowhere in Sirius that needs neon more than those foreigners in Kusari worlds. They have more lights than Manhattan!"
"You know, that might be a good thing. We'll need a bigger ship... and we're only civilian freelancers. What would you expect to do?" questions Matt with hesitation in his voice.
"Civilian Trade Runners!" Enthusiastically claimed out by Mike, "WE will get a bigger ship, I know a place... Would be perfect. Deeps Space Engineering has a decent one. Lots of pretty cannon mounts, pleasing to the eye, and you can light 'dat bad boy like a poorly done Christmas tree. We can run clean runs from here to Kusari. Just gotta find something back to here."
"Rice." interrupting, the bartender overhearing the conversation "Kyushu rice. It's good. Pricey. But best rice in the whole system."
Matt pauses for a minute, then replies in a firm, but giddy tone. "I'll call up the brother-in-law. Ol' Nick will be happy to join in on the money. You talk to DSE and see if we can get a ship from them." Matt starts to walk away pulling up a comm from his Nav-Watch. "Nick my man! you'll be excited to---" out of earshot, you know he was talking to Nick.
"I'll get right on it!" Mike pronounced in sarcasm as he waves at Matt knowing he'd not be seen. "We didn't talk about how to get the ship though..." He continues under his breath. Mike finds himself heading to his gull, departing to space, and heads over to DSE shipyard baltimore and attempts to make communication...
Mike Returns to Erie and walks in down the hall, frustrated expression as he orders 2 rounds of ale. "Matt. They put me on hold. Seriously. You'd think they'd progress transmissions and ship requests better. Something about a new computer system being in place. So can we-" "Good news is I got the Bro in law his transport." Interrupting Mike, as the 2 ale slides down the bar and 1 snatched up by each. "We got a means of making money."
Mike, confused about how he did it, but thinks nothing of it as he swigs the ale swiftly. A little dabbles down his chin. "Well. That's good. But-" Mike's nav watch rings with a call from someone. He runs down the hall to the hanger and hops in the cockpit of his Gull and takes off. About an hour later Mike returns to Matt, who is sitting in a bench near the window and proceeds to tell him about the yard, the communication, and debris he forgot to mention earlier.
"Oh we haven't talked about how to get this ship of ours. All I'm good at is navigation."
Matt jumps with a sharp turn toward Mike and startles the bar. "And I'll be the captain! After all, I will be buying the ship myself."
Mike recovers from nearly spilling the rest of his ale and plants a firm hand on Matt's shoulder. "What the grace of Shiva makes you a captain?" "Seniority." snaps quickly at Mike, shaking his own glass of ale. It becomes apparent Matt is drunk as he orders 2 more ales from down the bar, "I'm older than ya Matt-y-boy! And don't ask how I know. I just do. And the hell is Shiva?"
Mike snatches one of the ales coming from down the bar. "She's a goddess. A pretty one. That's all you need to know. Well we got 'A' ship. An employee. And some others we could talk to. That being said, To Shiva!"
Mike raises his glass in a toast to this "Shiva" as Matt turns back toward Mike, clanging his glass against Mike's, "I like pretty women. So it is then, To Shiva!"
"To Hodor!" called out from behind the cloud of smoke and people, glass raised in the air, liquor running down the mans wrist. Stepping out from the light his scruffy voice and smell of alcohol on his breath "You say you know people?"
Wearing a hood as he walks out of the light, He's tall, wears a trench coat with a patch that says "Hodor". Walks with a limp and sounds scruffy in ways of an older man that's done too much Synthetic in his day. He raises up his glass, clearly coffe but smells feintly of Cardamine, and takes a sip of it.
"I know people too trader. We know Hodor. In Hodor we trust. These Hodor people you could befriend, or, will blow your ship without thinking twice." Matt and Mike look at each other, almost threatened by the man's verbal account of this "Hodor". They look back at the man as the nav-watch rings on Mike's wrist.
"My apologies Mr... Uhh.. Erm... Hodor fan. Whoever that is. But I must take this call. It's DSE."
"DSE you say?" Says the man in the hooded coat, taking another sip of his cardamine laced coffee, "Good clients of ours. Great... Revenue...", as he chuckles under his breath.
"Excuse me, err, What was your name again?" Matt asks in question grabbing Mike's shoulder. "I never said it. But my name is not important. What is important... Is Hodor."
Matt looks at him in confusion and disgust as the hooded figure sips more of his cardamine coffee, swallowing it in sips from behind his mangled, stained, and broken teeth. "By Shiva Matt, Either come with me or let me go! This is important!"
Mike and Matt stagger with a powerwalk down the hall of the bar to a private room where they answer the call...
As they glide with a zig-zag down the hall, they stop in the hangar where both gulls are positioned. Outside the window in orbit around Erie, a DL class Borderworlds Transport shows itself donning multi-colored lights visible from the ground. Mike without hesitation, and clear of that shady fellow from the bar, answers the call from DSE.
"Hello, This is Mike speak-" "Eh Mike! That's Nick! Look!" Matt points a sharp finger to the Transport, gleaming in purple, yellow, blue, green, and red strobes from bow to aft, Port to starboard. Mike takes a glance up to check the ruckus of Matt's drunkard stupor, and returns to the call.
After a brief moment of conversation Mike turns to Matt who had gotten dizzy from looking up and fallen down, Kneels at his side. "We got the ship. They'll have it ready for pickup here soon. Wonder if they cleaned up the yard yet?"
Matt looks happy as he passes while on his back. Knowing he can't leave him there with that Hodor fellow nearby, and especially in front of the bar, He drags Matt back to his ship and puts him in the passenger seat. Reclined back Mike says to himself, "Matt... We got a long journey ahead of us. Start a new faction. Some person in a party ship in orbit, a bloke who knows he's older than me, and I'm automatically just a nav's officer. Least we got the ship... How did he get all that money?" Mike stops and ponders as he fire's up the ships thrusters, seals the airlock and departs for the shipyard...
