Mitchell walked through the archway and into the bar of Freeport 1. He examined his surroundings as his many weapons were removed. Luckily they didn't find the very very backup weapon, just in case he needed it. The bar was small compared to others he had seen on his moves around the Sirius Sector. A thin mist filled the air, and that was in the no smoking zone. Green lights played around the entire room an mae it seem more like a disco.
He looked out of the window and saw the asteroids that were around the station, and a Zoner Juggernaught positioned near the station. Just in case, he thought.
He walked over to the standing bar and made his presence obvious. A few people from tables dotted around the bar turned to examine him. Some were Zoners, some were Corsairs. One was a very particular Corsair, with a very big bounty on his head. Maybe later, he thought to himself, almost cracking a smile as he thought it. He turned back and saw an old man walking towards him, ready to serve. He had a slight limp and a long grey beard. Perhaps they've lost their supplies of razors, he thought, an this time he couldn't help a grin.
'What can I getcha?' he asked in a muffle of a voice, probably the beard give his voice that effect.
'I'll have a Cannonball Brew with a plate of 4 sausages, some baked beans and a jacket potato, lots of cheese.'
'You got it Sir.' The old man walke away and Mitchell sat down at an empty table. He noticed the occupants of the Corsair table giving him a harsh stare. He returned it and eventually they broke it off and started whispering quietly to eachother. Mitchell's order arrived and he gulped it down, he was really tired and needed the energy. He was about to return to his ship when the Corsairs made their move. They stood up and walked towars him, confidence in their strides. The one with the large bounty on his head made several hand gestures, which meant You and me, outside now. He made another gesture, a slice across his throat.
'You going to commit suicide?' Mitchell asked, then gave a slight chuckle.
'The second were away from this Freeport i'm gonna kill you.'
'Then lets go, right now.' Mitchell let the Corsairs go out first, then followed slowly, thinking out his battle plan.
Lets just say the Corsairs didn't eat anything at Freeport 1 again.
[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.
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Visibly angry and disgruntled, Dr. John Henry Holliday entered the arches, turned in his sidearm and went to a corner table. He took off his trench coat and with a snatch, hung it on a wall peg. As he sat down, he slammed his fists on the table as he cursed out loud to himself. Noticing that Doc's temper had got the best of him, he brought over his usual, a bottle of Blood Wine.
"Not today," Doc said, "blood wine is for celebration. Today, I have nothing to celebrate. Make it whiskey."
The bartender nodded and quickly returned with his request, pouring Doc's first shot which he took back immediately.
Doc then poured himself another and as quick as the first, downed it and then another.
"My God, Doc, I don't think I've seen you this angry......ever," said the stunned barkeep, "you need anything else? Someone to talk too perhaps?"
"No, just leave me be," replied Doc as he downed another shot. "And don't tell Madori you ever saw me this way." The barkeep just nodded and walked away.
The Doctor sat quiet, contemplating how in hell he could make people understand.
"Forget it," he said again out loud to himself, again slamming his fists in anger on the table, "time for other plans of approach."