To absent friends, lost loves, old gods & the Season of Mists...& may we each give the devil his due.
Dimi undocks from the unfinished shell of Stornoway Station and flies towards Edinburgh. Kicking his feet up on the console, he leans back & lets his ship do the work as he enjoys a quiet moment alone with his thoughts.
The season is approaching the cusp of change...& he can smell it, even in the stale recycled air of the cockpit.
The grey of Winter is just now beginning to take its leave to give way for the green of Spring, & now, moreso than any other time of year, The Gaians begin to truly enter their natural element. In their own way, no matter where they are, each & every one of them can feel the change in their bones.
...Life is making a comeback.
As he exits the Lewis system & enters the jumphole, he clenches his teeth and endures the turbulence of warp travel & activates his neural net.
To: All Gaians, The NLH, & our Kusari allies From: Damien 'Marburg' McEwan
In honor of the change of season, I invite you all to the first annual Gaian Walpurgisnacht Pagan Pub Crawl.
I am prepairing to dock on Islay station, & the tab is on me...so get off your duffs & allow yourselves the twenty-four hour release.
If you think you can keep up, we will begin in the Dusty Mug, Level 66, Murphy Central.
I'm landing on station now & after I have a chat with the station Dockmaster, & I'll clear all your possible 'plus ones' for roaming rites on station.
Come on down & go through Hell with me...it'll be fun.
Sorcha felt the coldness of space... a vacuum inviting her to what she knew would become her final resting place. The ship had been obliterated by some young bounty hunter pilot with a sharp eye and a quicker finger. The debris following the marvelous explosion had breached her life pod and the automated female voice she called 'Faye' was ticking of the depleting oxygen levels at an alarming rate. She new it was just a matter of seconds before 'Faye' would say her final goodbye and Sorcha would know what it was to be one with the universe. The radio crackled to life... "...free drinks...pub crawl...Dimi...landing..."
Her green eyes snapped open, she was safe, for the moment. As her eyes adjusted to the familiar surroundings of her modest quarters on Islay base, she rolled out of her rack and slid her black skins on to her rather shapely legs, enjoying the comfort of it's cling. Over to the mirror, she regarded her face, neck, shoulders and other bits. Frowning at the small bruise on her right breast, evidence of her last encounter with the Bounty Hunters, she shrugged, donned her black leather skin jacket, zipped it to mid level, grinning as her flat belly and exposed navel warmed with thoughts of seeing her mates. A quick visit to the loo, oral hygine and a quick brush through her long straight hair and she was off to the hanger.
"Oi! Where da boss man?" Sorcha questioned the Dock Master, pointing to Dimi's ship.
"E's over at the Dusty Mug, Love... better get down der... e's got a full five minutes on yer arse"
Sorcha leaned over and planted a kiss on the Dock Master's balding pate and gave him a wink.
"Yer a fine mon, Sean, one day some lucky lass'l make an honest mon of ye" she threatened as she turned to find Dimi
Sean hated seeing Sorcha leave, but he loved watching her go, always in those skin tight black trousers. He fought the battle once more to avoid looking at the curves which left NOTHING to the imagination and lost...
"Dusty's, eh?" Moira muttered under her breath as she exited the central lift at Level 66. "Well, at least the quality o' the booze 'n the clientele can only improve from there.."
A moment's walk brought the NLH's XO to the bright green door of Dusty's. It had been some time since she'd frequented the Green Hell. Other duties, other priorities.. But she looked forward to this little respite, (and a possible splitting headache in the morning), as there were many new Gaians who had answered the NLH's call whom she hadn't met yet.
She immediately spotted Damien at a large table in the rear of the pub, seated with a pretty young woman. She began a purposeful stride towards the table, but abruptly came up short as she was able to make out the unknown girl better.
"Beira and Seonaidh preserve us! She's wearin' fookin' dead animal skins, and not many o' those either!"
Moira's fair skin reddened as she looked down at her own multi-pocketed, grease-stained, padded, self-repairing flight suit, embedded with medical diagnostic sensors and the odd concealed weapon..
A brief second, and she had regained her composure. She again strode towards the table.
Demi spied her, and rose in greeting, while the new lass merely looked up and smiled; until their Leader nudged her, and spoke under his breath, nodding towards Moira. The girl's expression changed, and she jumped up in a semblance of "attention".
"'ello, Chief." said Moira, as she planted a kiss on Damien's cheek, and then turned to the young woman.
"Let's not stand on formalities, eh? We're not squintin' down our sights at some BAF tosser today. We're here to renew friendships and make a severe dent in the McEwan's wallet, eh?" She extended her hand to the woman.
"My name is Moira Kentigearna, luv. And who might you be now...?"
The Krakah powers down on docking bay 1, the dockmaster watches as a beautiful green haired woman with a killer smile and perfectly toned body walks towards him to sign her docklog.
"'ello Eowyn, it's so good to see ya again luv" the dockmaster says
"hello you cheecky old goat, it's good to see you too, any idea where I can find Dimi?" Eowyn replies with a smile as she gives him a peck on the cheek
"he's over at the Dusty Mug, Sorcha and Moira are already there" he replies as he touches his cheek where she'd just kissed him and smiles
"thanks Angel" Eowyn replies smiling as she turns and walks off to find the Dusty Mug.
A few moments later she sees the bright green door marking the entrance of Dusty's, as she enters she looks around and sees the familiar faces of Damien and Moira sitting at a large table in the rear of the pub with a beautiful woman she's yet to meet. Eowyn walks up to the table as Damien spots her and stands up.
"hello Dimi, it's good to see you again" she says as she wraps her arms around him and gives him a peck on the cheek.
She then turns to Moira smiles and says "hello Moira, long time no see, how have you been?"
Eowyn then turns to face the unknown woman and says "hello, my name is Eowyn Ravenwod, and you are?"
Before Sorcha could satisfy the curiosity of the other two, Dimi inserts himself in the middle & leads all three ladies towards the bar as he speaks with a grin:
"I've always been taught, you gotta learn to walk before you can run, & you gotta drink before you can crawl...The daylights are burnin' so before we run our mouths, let's fill it with somethin' first."
He hops over the bar & pulls a bottle off of the top shelf as the attending barkeep places down four shot glasses in a row.
In a sloppy fashon, Dimi fills each one beyond the brim, making a large puddle under the glasses, then takes a sizable swig straight from the bottle while simultaniously spinning around to place the bottle on the back counter & grabbing a nearby lighter.
Flicking the flame while still in mid spin, he spits the alcohol out of his mouth as he comes full circle; igniting the puddle on the bar, causing the other customers closeby to recoil in shocked suprise.
Except Moira that is, who has known Dimi the longest & already understands his style.
Completing his fluid motion, The NLH Commander & XO each snatch a glass through the flames & allow the fire of the shots extinguish in their throats.
After a grimace of burning pain, he leans over the bar & flashes a wink & a sly misfit's smile to both of the younger women, wordlessly inviting them to drink up before all the good of the shots flame away.
The pause before indulgence from them both was almost imperceptible, & it filled the man with silent pride.
Not wishing to miss a second of the free booze on offer at the Dusty Mug, Red slammmed the Sunset into Islay Bay 1 at reckless velocity, decelerating with a screaming howl and barely avoiding collision with the already docked Krakah.
Leaping from the cockpit, Red slings his ships entry pass at the Dockmaster...."How'z it going Bud? Give her a full service would ya...and suds up the sides eh? Some nasty burns there .. Molly's and BAF, doncha ya love em?"
Failing to wait for an answer, Red raises an eyebrow..."Who's here?"
"Well" the DM grins, "The Boss is down on '66 at the Dusty Mug wi' a ruck 'o women, including Moira....You might not know all of 'em. Sight fer sore eyes. Best thing I've seen fer months...". The poor guy was just short of drooling....
Red picked up the signals quick time. "Right, I'm off down there. It'd be wrong not to enjoy the party, get me ship ready in 72 hours would ya?" With that he was gone from the Bay.
Entering the bar, Red sees Marburg and three women at a table.... Moira glances up and her eyes smile, she winks across the room without signalling to her partners that she's spotted him.
Red slips quickly across the slightly sticky, carpeted floor bar of the Dusty Mug and slaps Dimi heartily across the shoulders. "Hey Buddy! Looks like you're doing well for youself! Mine's a Green Gin and Panic, ladies? Top ups?" He enjoys a hug with Moira "Long time no see Siss.."
"Good to see ya Red..." She replied...Old friends meeting once again.
Never one to hang about, Red went on. "Now, let me get acquainted with your other guests Dimi, you look a bit out numbered! ....Gi'me the introductions eh?"
Dimi, still pink in the face from nearly choking on his drink begins to put faces to names as best he can....
William George woke up from a long sleep. He currently lay on a half-broken couch in his small quarters. He stretched after a long night spent sleeping and combing through Bretonian law books trying to find a solution for the Shetland problem. Glancing over he noticed his clock.
"Uh oh!" he said, jumping to his feet. "I'm late for the pub crawl!"
He grabbed his fedora and a green tie from a small table near the door and began to run down the hall toward the stairs. He frantically tried to put his tie on en route, neglecting the fact that he did not have a shirt that was in any way compatible with a tie. The green tie did go well with the brown hat and jacket he wore, creating a rather earthy, if disheveled, look.
Soon he caught up with the other Gaians. "Hey everyone!" he said, walking over to the others. "Sorry I'm late. I was, uh, caught in a big brawl with some Planetform thugs."
"Olly is heaarre! And ya drunkards be known, me is always drinking to keep the one up on yas!" Then Oliver fell flat on his face on the floor in front of the Dusty Mug's door. Drooling abit as two patrons ran to pick up the big lad, he mumbled something then staggered to thr bathrooms. Entering the womens lavatory, screams of others we're heared and then a faint clutter of coughing and yelling was heared.
"Aye ya pertty lasses, ain't nothing new fer Oll, I've seen me fair share of whooley beast the likes, Ragggwa whooolgh argh, *couch cough* RArWWWgh....ptheowy....Oh this Ka-Sorry wine got me all hung up!"
"Blam!" door flies open on the women's rest and the burly man stepped forth with a have dead look in his eyes.
"where is those guys, they'ze alfered to spend der credits on Olly's drink ta-nite! Suckers...the lot of em! I'll drank ya'll under the table!"
Olly then blankly looked round to see some of Islay's finest pilots and finest women. He swallows a small Synth pill, then lights up a cig, and walks to the bar. He sits next to the group surrounding Damien. His stank of old liquor and feet fill the air, his eyes race around as if to not be able to make target, then he spots his aim.
"give a mee one o doees bar keep..........Now" He slams his fist on the bar and as the keep turns back with a glass he hears another "thump." Oliver bounces his head on the bar face down and slowly rolls to fall.
"olly.......bee.........going......dun," "Thud!" as he falls to a fetal position, asleep on the bar floor. His cigarette is then put out by one of the local, and now laughing hysterically, patrons.
From their vantage point at the back of the bar, the other six NLH casually glance towards the out cold man & have a bit of a snicker themselves.
Dimi shrugs his shoulders innocently to the others at the table & continues to slowly and silently finish his pint while the group re-engage their small talk.
Glancing over to the barkeep, he flashes a hand signal, & a busboy arrives shortly after, placing a large bucket down on the table & disappears back into the crowd.
After upending his glass, Dimi carries the bucket over to the bar & stands above the snoring man on the floor, & completely douses him with ice water.
The cold wet shocks the burly man back into consciousness with a series of grunting snorts & confused incomplete sentences as he awakens; unsure where he is.
Marburg drops to his haunches & offers up an exaggeratedly chipper sounding "HI!"
"You must be Oliver Blastedbury"
Back at the table, Red laughs hysterically & states to the others: "Yep! 'ee must be one of ours alright! I say if 'e passes out again we shave 'is 'ead & paint his toenails pink!"
They all erupt into a round of laughter & click their gasses together in agreement as they watch Damien assist two large bouncers pick Oliver off the floor & have him sent off to the restroom in a wheelbarrow to get cleaned up.
"I dun ned no showa!.....get yer blasted wheely cart outaa here!.........who did wake me up?.....I send a durn catapult up yer........sons of a ...... ya durn right"
The bus boy comes blasting out the door with a scare, looks back at the bar keep, shrugs his shoulders and then carries on his business cleaning up.
A few minutes later...BLAM! the door to the Men's bathroom pops back open showing a slightly confused and wet Bear of a man.
"did I park me ship ere?.....goodness gravy." He scratches his head in amazment at the attention he now receives.
"Ugh, purdon meh... haugh..Hauuggh......Ahem...Pardon ME...I was just uhhh....ummm A LITTLE DIS-TROT from umm... a bad mix of... rudaishun medicine..ya...that's it...and um I....AYE...wuld like ta appolo...appala...pologeeze....um say SURRY to ya'll fer umm ruin in yer fine evenings.....that's all...now GO BACK TO YER buisinesses."
Olly then approaches the bar tender orders up a brew, the bar keep looks fer a while shakes his head, then hands Oliver a glass of water. Without a remark Olly looks at the keep, looks at the mirror, then proceeded to drink the entirety of the glass. *burp* Looking round fer a smoke he then pulls out a pack of ciggarettes and as others watch he tips them upside down and drains a cup of water out of the package.
"Yar..this not be a gud day tat all...I be smelling like a goat in da swamp, woke up in yer crapper and now mista bar keep, I gots ta ask ya fer a pack o coffin nails if ya gots em, seems mine went swimming without meh"
He gets his pack and takes no time at all to fire one up then looks round and sees a group of pilots gathered in the back drinking pints. "hmm pertty girls back der" he thinks to himself, "goohohhooooly.....gaia is good." Olly quick fixes his hair in the bar mirror, grins his teeth, and then smacks himself to wake up abit. He then walks to the back and magically trips on his own boots. "ssheeeeeeiiiiiiii" THUD! patrons again lose their focus and the bar keep looks at the bus boy. "I 'm awlright... I bee good ova here mind yerselfs...I'm alright...keep yer selves up...all good."
Embarrassed now he approaches the famed group and introduces himself. "Halo, I be...I am Oliver...Oliver blasted...DOH....Oliver Blastenbury at yer services."