Keeping Our Noses Clean & Our Livers Undertaxed

Posted on Sat Nov 9th, 2019 @ 3:41pm by Commanding Officer Mickey Serendipity & Pilot Allegra Jennings & Executive Officer Kenneth McTigue & Comm Tech Wulf Edevane

Mission: The Forgotten Arm
Location: Platinum Ward, Eros Station
Timeline: Eros Incident T-minus 17 Hours

The vacuum tube travel pod system map, looked at in a certain way, might resemble the interconnected neural bundles of a human mind. The hippocampus of the Government Ward, the frontal lobe of the Maintainance sections, and the visual cortex of the Dock Yards: all of it spiralling around and connecting back into one another. And in that image, if you were looking at this brain on a medical scanner, then the Platinum Ward was a stroke in progress.

Taking up two kilometres of in length and just as much across in width and volume, the Platinum Ward was the pleasure centre for Eros Station. Clubs, bars, restaurants, hotels, hostels, casinos, brothels, smoke parlours, shooting galleries were all vying for advertising space and the limited attention of the crowd of humanity seeking a good time. Lights, sounds, music, thumping bass, and voices in a hundred different languages all fighting for a place to have a good time.

It was like the end of the world was coming with the morning, so drink up and make merry.

Except for the guy in a white long sleeve formal shirt, and neatly pressed black slacks who was working through the crowd with an eager expression, and a question on his lips. And as he made his way into the bar where the Albatross crew were spending their hard-earned money, he must have seen something that said 'assured sale'.

"Hey there, friends!" he said, the accent Earthen and charming that it spat hayseeds. "Do you mind if I ask you all a question? Do you think a Mormon can tell a joke?"

"Nah mate, I think Mormons are the joke." Ken chuckled in an overly thick Irish brogue and moved on without stopping. Ken was walking with the kind of steps you usually associate with someone in need of a bathroom. His destination was 'The House of Elagabalus', the four-star resort famous for its ladies of leisure, top-shelf Earth liquor, and reasonably unrigged games, there was a table reserved in VIP for the Tross' crew.

"Well I'd love to get a chance to change your mind!" the Mormon said with a raised, hopefully, voice. "We're holding an open mic comedy night at the Happy Shack down at the end of the Platinum Ward. We'd love to have you and your friends there! We're also giving away holo's of the Nauvoo, you know the generation ship the Church of Latter-Day Saints is building. Can I book you in for seats!"

“We’re more of a devil worshipping, drink blood from the skulls of the fallen kinda outfit,” Wulf said, his expression deadpan. “But if you don’t mind us drawing sigils on your floor…”

----

The entrance itself was a sight to behold. Where most establishments in the Ward were covered in ultra-high quality panels displaying the many joys to be found inside in the form of running adverts, the 'House of Elagabalus' had rows of faux-marle pillars lining the front. Two large men flanked the entrance, dressed as Roman legionnaires, though less thick muscled and taller due to they're being belters.

"Lads." Ken said with a wide grin and stepped through between the two guards into the lobby. At coat check he handed his jacket off and turned to the nice lady at the reception. He quickly explained their reservations and showed his terminal. With a smiling nod the group was whisked into House itself.

The doors opened to a dimly lit room. On the far right was a large bar with two actual bartenders. They were neatly dressed and smiling as they poured beer, mixed cocktails, and otherwise assisted in inebriation. Purple lightstrips against the walls created the cool, luxurious atmosphere. From the ceiling small clouds of smoke assisted in the atmosphere as they lit up by hiding lighting in purples, blues, and reds.

Spread around the bar were groups of tables with chairs. Most were filled, a few were empty. They were of a simple wood-look design, made of bamboo. At the very rear right were several tables and sofas set upon slightly raised platforms with actual velvet ropes set around them.

On the left the light was turned up a few levels. Tables were spread around there, some to be sat on, some to be standing at. The sitting table had dealers standing around dispensing cards, poker, blackjack, and baccarat were some of the games on offer. There were tables for craps, roulette, and maybe a dozen tables for golgo, each filled up. Between the tables and the bar walked pleasant looking women and men with trays serving drinks and collecting glasses.

The kind lady from the front desk guided the Albatross crew to the largest of the VIP sections and explained to the man in the ill-fitting suit that these people were honoured guests and should be treated well.

"Huh." Mickey said looking around the place. "Ken it seems you still have ways to surprise me."

He raised a hand as one of the toga-clad serving women passed by, press gold laurels in her hair.

"We're opening a tab in his name," he hooked a thumb at Ken. "And I'll start with a scotch, ice. Something from Earth. He can afford the cost."

She needed a drink. Or two. Or ten...or was ten five to many? Either way, Allegra was looking forward to drinking with the crew to get their shore leave started. Later? Afterwards? Well, that was for she herself to know and enjoy. Eros. Guess there were worse places... This bar though? It was pretty alright. Her order followed Mickey's, "Same for me."

"I'm not paying for scotch!" Ken declared loudly. "But get my friends here some proper Irish whiskey." and he dropped himself in a chair with a wide grin.

"Any particular reason you chose this place of all the bars on Eros, Kenny?"

"Well Leggy, you see. This place has it all. Gambling, pleasure, booze. And most of it is paid by our dear employer." Ken tapped one of the in-table menus and looked at it. "Maybe we can get all of it at the same time."

Allegra shot a green-eyed glare at the nickname, "yeah, well...be sure you wash before and after."

"Moderation. We have an entire week Ken," Mickey said as he settled into a chair in the lounge. The smart foam adjusted itself under him for perfect posture and comfort, which was just weird. "You stroke out because you went too far to fast, there's no Juice that'll fix you."

Ken dropped into a chair besides Mickey and kicked his feet on a third chair. A quiet groan escaped his lips as the foam adjusted. "Not to worry mate. They have a spa here too. They'll massage all the booze right outta me."

Content to let them fight it out on the drinks side of things, Wulf had stood and turned in a long slow circle while the others spoke. He took this place in as if it were a high class oasis long sought after weeks in a sandy Martian desert. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide, taking in every damn detail, female shape, sound and colour, he held his arms out to his side and pirouetted round that circle crawl one more time in sheer revelation.

“Ken,” Wulf said, finally and with overt respect. (1) “S̄t̄hān thī̀ nī̂ ǹā klạw!” He fell back into a two-seater sofa opposite Mickey’s chair and scoped the women seated up over at the bar before he even considered venturing a look at the table.

Stuffing her hands into the pockets of the crew jacket she still wore, Ally perched on the arm of the sofa, on the vacant end. "it's a'ight. better after a few drinks."

Ken stuck his hand in the air, thumb up. "Thank me after tomorrow's spa day."

A girl in a toga appeared a few moments later holding a large tray. On it were four actual glass tumblers, a small thermal-controlled bucket with ice, a small bottle of purified water, and an actual honest to god 2283 Kanppogue Castle whiskey, the seal intact. "Would anyone like me to pour them some?" she offered in an accent that hinted at a Titan accent.

Wide brown eyes gazed up at this figure from the heavens with the accent from home, and, lost in the shape that was more than hinted at beneath that toga, Wulf forgot to answer her question. He hit her with his best grin, the one he saved for special occasions, and stood up as nonchalantly as he could muster. "You're from Titan?" He asked outright, optimism coating every word.

"Hetpet Regio, Cradle City born and raised," the server said in a voice that was pure velvet. She undid the seal on the bottle and began to pour the amber fluid out into rounded tumblers glasses. "It's not often a fellow Titanate graces the halls of the House of Elagabalus. To have traveled so far from the sweet caramel skies of our home to here, you must have such stories to tell."

She placed the glass before Wulf with a coy smile.

"Subtle," Mickey said, before grinning at Ken. "The lighting, I mean. It's very subtly done don't you think?"

Wulf ignored them both as he gave Toga Titan waitress his full attention. He wasn’t about to tell this stranger exactly where he was from, not stone cold sober anyways, but that contented smile remained happily on his face. His utterly captivated gaze didn’t stop him passing the first glass straight over the table to Mickey however.

(2) “Dulce zorra, podría regalarte historias bonitas, pero ninguna sería tan hermosa como tú,” Wulf told their server, his voice colouring those words with a ear-tickling soft accent that promised far more than mere words. The second glass she poured, Wulf (without breaking eye contact) dutifully passed to Ken.

----

Next to enter the VIP area was a green-haired woman in a black leather jacket and pants she was ushered in by an employee. She seemed reluctant and like she felt like she didn't belong she was obviously alone. She had just wanted to sit at the bar but when they caught her name and realized that it was linked to someone wealthy on the client list she'd been ushed to the VIP room as if there was no choice in the matter. She hated the family name and that at a time people reacted to it finding her connection to the family more important than those related by blood.

When the bar employee suddenly disappeared to greet someone else attempting to enter the VIP area Kai sighed. She turned and faced the group of crew from the Albatross they looked like a fun group. She surmised they were likely the crew of some ship or another, likely private, the comradery was unmistakable. She missed her crew, her family, and cursed her mistakes.

"I need a drink," Kai muttered to herself.

Still upright and 98% focused on Titan Toga Lady, Wulf still clocked the slender leather clad young woman with green hair as she suddenly stood all alone. He waved enthusiastically in her direction, beckoning her this way. "Hey, could we get a fifth glass, please?" he asked their server politely, then he briefly turned to face Allegra. "She looks kinda lost," he told the pilot, hoping Allegra was up for being friendly.

Shaking her head, Allegra slid down from her perch and into the no vacant two-seater, tossing a leg up over where she had just been sitting. Her head flew up into a clear 'are you serious?', green eyes touching briefly on newcomer. "Not helpin' you build a harem." She muttered.

"Aw, c'mon, Ally, you never been lost?" Wulf asked her, grinning at her comment but not rising to it. As he turned back to give Toga his gaze, the tech apologised delicately. "Maybe you could join us for a drink too," he suggested, a little naively. "When you're not working?"

Kai raised an eyebrow as she saw the guy start waving her over, she was intrigued, normally she'd just ignore it but tonight... tonight... she didn't care. Besides how much worse could she possibly make her life right now? Kai started over to them not too slowly that it was weird but almost a deliberate way that she walked. She stood near the waitress and looked her over before she gave her attention to Wulf. "Looking for more company?"

"Yup! You kinda looked like you needed a strong drink," Wulf answered, with a warm smile to the verdant-haired stranger. "And my buddy Ken here is buying this round." Which meant it was always good fun to add more people to it.

"I could use a few strong drinks," she said, nodding at Ken. "I guess I have round two then." She looked around at the group but as she looked them at all she turned her attention back to Mickey. "Tell me about your ship," she said, he seemed like he'd be in charge.

"Nah...the old man has rounds one an' two. Mr. Smooth there has the third. But round four is all yours, chica." Truthfully, Ally didn't care who bought the round, the drinks, as long as she got tipsy and to bed safely. If she found someone to spend a bit of time with too, even better. This was going to be a fun week.

“Four it is,” Kai grinned, looking to Allegra. “You can call me Kai.”

"You can call me naturally suspicious," Mickey said as he took a sip of his Irish whiskey. It really did taste better coming all the way up the gravity well, every hundred dollar millilitre of the stuff. He eyed Kai over the top of the glass. "Hazard of being the XO. If the Captain was here he'd probably try to be diplomatic, but I'm just little old me. Designated thinker. You tell me about your last ship, and I'll tell you about ours."

“Suspicious, just like every XO I’ve ever met,” she said. “Seems to me like the worst job on the ship. But anyway it was a good ship... I was a medic. Little disagreement with management so I’m having a vacation between jobs,” Kai said with a shrug. “Really all that’s worth knowing.”

"Five feet from the docking collar, five minutes into shore leave...what is it our luck and fives today?" Mickey said. "And just for the record, the ringing endorsement of 'I got fired and please don't ask about my prior work history' is a ringing endorsement. Just name the ship, not too many small ships with the need of a medic flying. I know Vector Red Haulage out of Mars's hires on docs for their long hauls. Blue Cross is a medical system collective that do orbits through the belt dispensing hope and medical grade O2 to all the Belter communes, but you don't strike me as the charitable type."

“You didn’t ask me about my work experience you asked about the ship. One doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the other. Besides unless you’re hiring I guess it doesn’t matter...” she said. “Besides are you allowed to hire or just designated to think about it?” She winked at him.

"If someone says they are something, what profit is there in a lie?" Mickey asked thoughtfully. He took the wink with a smile. "And right now I am designated to think about nothing much at all. As of this moment, the Charon Courier Corporation is on a week-long vacation. If at the end of the week you're still looking for work, and you've not hired on with another crew, we can discuss things. I don't think we've ever had a doctor who didn't come with a software update every two days before?"

“Well if my glass shows up we can get to drinking...” Kai said, with a nod. “I uh, have actual credentials but we can chat about that another day.”

Ken had closed his eyes and slowly sipping his drink. Memories of home played before his eye, a time before he had left Earth. He took another small sip and savoured it on his tongue, then savoured the heat down his throat. "Kai is it? Where's that accent from?" Ken asked with his eyes closed.

As their server left, Wulf fell back into the sofa next to Allegra, picked up his drink and regarded the newbie he felt he'd fished into the group. She was mouthy, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and she was - though he didn't answer for her - Martian if he wasn't mistaken. Still, he wouldn't hold that against her just yet and the green hair was kinda foxy even if she could likely kick his ass from one end of the station to the other. He rested his arm along the back of the sofa behind Allegra in a comradely rather than protective gesture and watched Kai verbally fend off Mickey and Ken.

When the fifth glass turned up, the comm tech refilled everyone's glasses included his own and raised his in a toast.

"To fives," Wulf said, with a bright smile that broadened as he kept talking. "And vacations. And medics without trialware."

Mickey began to raise his glass. Around the table were, if not the best people, then the right people to be around. Good, solid, middle of the road people who got a hard job done well. It was certainly better than the before he'd come from, much in the same way it was better than the before some of the crew had come from. But just as he began to take the breath to mirror Wulf's toast, and speak a little of his own, his terminal began to cheep from his pocket.

He let out a snort, pulled it from his pocket: Nabaal, S blinked up from the screen.

"It's the Captain," Mickey said, getting up. "Probably wants to know where to join us. I'll just go take it over there."

He hit the connection acceptance button, and held the terminal up to his ear. In the hub-bub of the club, his lips moved without words to accompany, but Mickey's body language went from the partially relaxed he had been sinking into to something that made it sound like Wulf ha announced a UNN inspection skiff flagging them down. He brought the hand terminal down, tapping a few buttons on its display before pocketing it. He turned to Kai.

"Short term contract, 12 hour buy-in with a 12K Ceres Yen payout. Field medic work, with danger pay," he said in a terse tone. "If you don't want the credit's you can stay in the bar, but you'll not get a ride or a job offer from us again."

Without waiting for a response he looked to the crew.

"Captain's hold up in the warehouse district, Cobalt Ward. He's taken fire from unknown hostiles, need's us to get to him." He turned his eye's Ken. "No I don't know who shot him, or why. I also know your duffle has toys in it. Don't hand them out until we're somewhere a security expert system won't flag them. Wulf, Allegra we're heading to the tube station at the end of the street. Let's move it."

He looked at the bottle and the partially filled glasses. Five glasses.

"Shoreleave's over."

OOC:

(1) Thai: This place is awesome!
(2) Spanish: Sweet vixen, I could regale you with pretty stories, but none would be as beautiful as you.