Starcrossed: Artemis

Personal Log: Jeremy Malcolm

Dated June 21, 2321

Saw a lunar sunrise this morning. Wasn’t planned, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our plans we forget what’s out here. There’s a lot of beauty in between the stars. Maybe Artemis wanted me to remember that.

Or maybe she was just tired. Five weeks at space without a stop will run anyone down. Not really a problem that she needed to stop, though; we had a shipment of fusion drills sitting in the hold, and it turns out San Cruz is one of the few places in the galaxy there’s still a market for them.

And, of course, there was that sunrise. No matter how many different suns I watch rising over different moons, it never loses its beauty. Got me thinking, too.

They say that the galaxy’s spinning. The way I see it, that means every star’s where another star’s been – else it’s headed that direction. There’s a poetry to it. I suppose people are the same way. One day you’re on the mountaintop, watching everyone run about beneath you; the next day, you’re running. But that’s not so bad. The air isn’t so thin below the mountains, and you certainly aren’t the only one running. At any rate, I figure the galaxy keeps on spinning, so maybe there’s no sense in making plans at all. Either way, sooner or later, you’re going to get where you’re going…even if you haven’t quite figured out where that is, yet.

Entry End

The fringe mining moon San Cruz most definitely put the “frontier” in “The Final Frontier.” The dingy bar was identical to so many bars across the pockmarked rock – dim, rickety, drafty, and crowded. It looked exactly like a bar from Earth’s “Old West”, save for some minor details; instead of Chinamen, a group of silver-skinned Sluurvs chatted in the farthest corner of the room; instead of swinging saloon-style doors, the building had sliding doors of some sort of dull, waxy alloy; and, while the barmaid was, in keeping with Terran tradition, very attractive, her pale blue skin, opalescent eyes and long feathery hair would have been even more distinctive in those days than they were here.

But other than that, the scene was remarkably similar. The air smelled of mingled sweat and alcohol, the conversation wavered dangerously between jovial and confrontational, and the general appearance of the patrons was, in a word, rough.

Though not a polished individual by any means, the tall, sandy-haired man sitting at the bar was still one of the least rugged in the bar; his sharp, strong face was clean shaven, and his modified dark grey flight suit, though nothing fancy, was clean and well tailored. He made no attempts to hide the heavy stinger at his side – but it was little more than a token. Not that these sorts of bars weren’t dangerous…it was just that he was very obviously in the company of the hulking, brutish-looking Kevax that had drawn every eye in the bar when they entered.

Taking a slow sip of his coconut rum, Jeremy Malcolm glanced up at the massive Kevax. “Doesn’t look like any of these’re likely to be trouble, Trax,” he said, in his usual nonchalant tone. “If there’s anything you need to look for at one of the traders’, I’ll keep here.” He didn’t expect this to be a very long stop; they’d already dropped off a shipment of supplies to the mines and gotten their payment – now they just had to wait for Saahn to purchase what engine maintenance parts he needed, and get Artemis refueled. In the meantime, they’d wait in the bars, keeping an ear open for anyone looking for a ship to hire, and an eye open for anyone looking for a crew to join. He’d sent Valek with Alice; though he knew his first mate could handle herself, he’d learned from numerous close scrapes that it was best to cover yourself whenever possible. Given her slight disdain for the non-human races, he’d sent her off with Valek (despite the Kevax’s protests), knowing he could be a little more tactful and unobtrusive than Ss’trax’on. Still, it looked like it was going to be a fairly uneventful layover, from where he was sitting.

But he hadn’t stayed alive this long by trusting appearances…

---------------

The bar in which Alice and Valek found themselves was similar to the one in which Mac waited in almost every regard, except the bartender was a stocky Rokhe who had refused Valek service. From the way he glowered at the Kevax, it was evident he probably would have thrown the saurian out, if he’d trusted the human bouncers to do the job. Even dressed in a plain jumpsuit, with no combat modifications except a thick-weave chestplate and shoulder pads to protect against stingers, the Kevaxin warrior was an intimidating sight. The authorities on San Cruz had better things to do than prevent barfights, it seemed, so nobody had attempted to disarm him of the large vibrasword slung across his back, either.

Whether Alice was standing or sitting, Valek stood behind her, his yellow eyes unblinking as he kept them open for any sign of trouble. It may be the human female’s task to scout out potential employers or crewers, but it was his task to see to her safety. He had been asked to protect her, by the man to whom he was honor-bound. He
would not let anything escape his attention…

OOC: Vert, LJC, it’s totally up to you which bar Memphis/Luca are in. Bobert, I’m sorry to report that Saahn’s going to have a somewhat dull start. Feel free to post him in one of the traders’ shops or something getting any maintenance parts he wants, and I’ll find ways to entertain him.

Luca and Memphis had been enjoying the Rock Fish activities on San Cruz for most of the day, but the day cycle was slowly coming to dusk, and so as per tradition, they jumped into Luca's light craft, dubbed Hopper, towards their favourite bar. "Time to make some money, Darlin" he smirked and laughed toward Memphis.

The bar was, as usual, filled with smoke and sweat. He noticed a couple he'd never seen in the bar before. A human, familiar face but couldn't quite figure out where, and a lumbering Kevax at his side. He wasn't up for a challenge this evening, so he put the couple to the back of his mind.

"Awright gourgeous" he winked at the barmaid as he entered the bar. "We'll have the usuals, as per." giving her a cheeky grin as he passed Memphis her drink. He surveyed the bar. He saw the Sluurvs in their usual spot, never really willing to give Luca a second glance. Dotted around the central bar were a few slick talking Gellen and a few well-suited Terrans engageing in friendly debate, an Ehl’oih group with cash flowing out of every pocket and a lone Kevax, best left undisturbed.

The tables at the far side of the building housed the usual Terran bandits, pirates and thieves, shouting abuse at any unfortunatly young woman to walk near them, and the upstairs area rented by the high rollers, the VIPs and the drug barons.

"So." He spoke up, grinning as he passed Memphis her drink. "What poor schmo do ya fancy tonight?"

This post has been edited by LJC on May 29 2009, 07:47 PM

San Cruz was a beautiful planet. It wasn't exactly Freia, but not very many planets are. Keeping an eye on the bar from her chair while sipping non-alcoholic whiskey(because even though she wasn't in the Leaguer anymore, some regulations just stuck with her), Alice waited for a possible job or crew.

"See anyone interesting, Valek?" She asked the saurian between sips.

Memphis grinned as she took the drink from Luca, happy to be having a relaxing evening of drinking and taking other peoples money to look forward to. Compared to rockfishing, a little bit of bar hustling was nothing. They'd been running the same bar for days now, she was surprised, but thankful, no one had noticed yet.

"Cheers eh," she said, lightly clinking the glass against his. Memphis had to do a lot of things lightly. She leaned back in her chair, eyes roving around the patrons filling the bar. Her attention was inevitably drawn to a particularly vocal group of space pirate in the far corner, letting every female who passed know exactly what they thought of her. It's was almost too easy a target.

"Well don't they just look ripe fer the pickin'," she said with a smirk. She easily downed the rest of her drink, placing the empty glass back down on the table. She straightened up, making a show of stretching out her arms, before taking off her hat and shaking out the long platinum blonde hair she had tucked underneath it. She took a moment to straighten it out before replacing the hat.

"Ya got my back, as per?" she asked, leaning over to Luca with a smile. Imitating the Englishman's speech was a secret favorite pastime of hers.

This post has been edited by vertigirl on May 30 2009, 10:10 AM

The lean and powerfully built Kevax growled non-committally. "Nobody...promising," he said, in very good English. He had, for all purposes, a pleasant baritone voice, apart from the permanent rasping growl that was the hallmark of the Kevaxin vocal mechanism. Alice could see his eyes occasionally lingering on the Rokhe bartender with great dislike. "But then, very few are sober," he added, and as usual, it was difficult to tell whether he was being perfectly serious, or making a slight joke at the patrons' expense...

Ss'trax'on growled deep in his throat. "I no leave you, bosss. Not in middle of placce like diss" He looked around, and saw the two rock-fishers who were casting peculiar glances around. "Thosse two look like dey be planning on making uss ssome trouble."

His Kevaxian accent was thick, he had never learned to speak the universal language quite well enough to avoid it. It didn't help with making him look any less intimidating than the tribal markings he painted on his scales already did, or the religious symbols marking his armor, weapons, and clothing. He was even wearing a charm necklace consisting of the bleached skull of some small animal he had recently sacrificed hung with numerous beads on a chord of hemp twine.

"I go get sacrificce later, but now I be bussy keeping you ssafe, boss."

Mac shrugged, clearly not concerned. "Can't say I see anyone who doesn't look like trouble," he mused, before glancing at the giant Kevax. "But, really, Trax, I'm touched."

Making no effort whatsoever to mask his movements, Mac scanned the bar's patrons critically. His eyes lingered for a moment on the blonde and her rough companion - Trax was right, he'd need to keep an eye on those two. But personally, he was a little more concerned with the human sitting in the far corner of the room. He was alone, and had barely touched his drink - just enough to make it look like he was actually there for a beverage, and nothing more. All the while, Mac noticed, he eyed the group of Sluurvs in the back of the room...

But no need alarming his trigger-happy Kevax companion. He'd just keep an eye open...

Turning back to his drink after ensuring he'd spent enough time looking around for his interest to be noted by anyone who was looking, he took another slow sip of his rum...

Chris Brooks was tired as hell, and it showed. It was no surprise considering the traveling he'd been doing. Trying to get back to New Manhattan was proving quite tiresome and a bit adventourous as well. Chris decided to take a break from searching out his next ride and ducked into a seedy bar.

Coming from a wealthy family as Chris did, he had never really frequented places like this before. Once he began traveling with all the other doctors to area more like this one, Chris learned to adapt. He no longer wore clothing that marked him as someone with money, nor did he act like it. He had learned quite well how to blend in.

Chris took a seat at the bar a feww places down from a human man and his Kevax companion. Chris paid them no mind as he gave the bartender his order and waited for the drink. In fact, Chris didn't look at anyone in the bar, didin't even check the place out. He was far too tired to care anymore. All he wanted was to sit awhile, drink a little, and then get himself home.

"Here you go, handsome." The melodic voice of the bartender pierced Chris' reverie as she set a mug down before him. Tired as he was, he may or may not have noticed the faint rose tinge coloring the skin around her cheeks and slender neck. "Refills are on the house," she whispered, brushing her hand with a feather-light finger as she set the drink down.

Mac tried not to chuckle as he watched the encounter. Ehl'oih women were so transparent...not that it hindered them much.

His thoughts were interrupted by a flicker of motion at the edge of his vision. Shifting his gaze more discreetly this time, he watched the lone human get up and, walking to the group of Sluurvs, tap go to an older-looking one at the edge of the group and lean towards him, muttering something inaudible. There was no mistaking the look of alarm on the Sluurv's face as the human walked slowly back to his table. Wonder what that's all about...

Chris noticed the bartender alright, but was too tired to do anything about her like he normally would have. He gave he a flirtatious smile and, "Thanks."

If he was here long enough, maybe he'd come back looking for the woman then. For now though, Chris took a sip of his drink adn then rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He really did need to sleep soon. It would be bad for his health if he didn't. But wasn't that the way of a doctor? For go your own health to take care of the health of others? Whatever, he was too drained to think it through any farther.

Saahn grumbled to himself as he trudged into the nearest mechanic’s shop and began perusing the selection of ship plating, energy generators, cannon fuel cells, and other aeronautical accessories. Once again, it had fallen to him to spend his hours docked in port scavenging for repair parts. Granted, he was the ship’s engineer, but that fact alone wasn’t enough to stop him from being discontent.

Isn’t enough that I’m always the one looking, though, is it? he thought to himself. Of course not. This time I’m stick with a bunch of bumbling fringe-worlders who don’t know a damn thing about fixing a Leaguer vessel.

He sighed to himself, picking up what looked to be a heavily battered tritium-3 fuel cell. Despite its poor condition, however, it appeared to be in working condition. Scanning the shop further, he found some metal plating that he could use to repair the ship’s hull, as well as a surprisingly fresh set of welding tools. His were aging, and welding seemed to be an ancient art on worlds closer to Leaguer space. Although he didn’t weld often, he knew he’d need to eventually. The tools were a good find.

His mood somewhat lightened, Saahn smiled to himself, approaching the shop’s front desk with his purchase.

The shop owner, a bulky Rokhe with a thick neck and very heavy "eyebrows" (an approximate term, since Rokhe have no hair to speak of) looked over the purchase for a moment before mumbling the price in barely understandable English. San Cruz shared a form of "credit" with other colonies in the area, making trade more efficient; thanks to their delivery of cargo to the mines, Saahn had enough to pay for the parts, and then some - maybe he could get himself a drink before departure.

"As per, darlin'." He winked and lightly nudged her disguised arms. He downed the rest of his drink along with Memphis before the pair made their way to the Pirates. "You'd better do the talkin'. I'm not feeling right polite today."

The Kevax watched the pair approach the pirates.

"Thiss iss going to end badly, I think, bosss."

He scratched his scaley chin, snorting to himself. He watched the doctor sit next to them, and almost unconciously placed himself between the Captain and the doctor, completely untrusting of anyone not himself or the Captain. "You ssure the little Kevax will protect your other friend?"

Mac shrugged - a common gesture for him. "Wouldn't be surprised..." He cast a very quick glance at the duo. "And that's the trick. Eyes open," he said, nudging his stinger ever so slightly to make sure it was there.

"Like she needs it?" Mac asked, drily. "He'll do fine." He decided not to point out that only Ss'trax'on could call Valek "little."

OOC: Gonna wait til vert does whatever she's planning 'til things get...interesting.