Galactic Sea: Cosmic Tales

"Smash it all up? Guess that's a reasonable cause."

Demolition wasn't his forte but you'd be hard to find a mercenary who wasn't up for a fight and there'd probably be trouble. And if they did want a file-wipe as well as destroying everything, Nyx could make sure even the wreckage had nothing to give.

"I guess these are not things nobody needs. Value to it existing, value to smashing it. And danger. But... they are kinda right. That's a lot of cred just for a demolition job."

edited 29th Dec '15 1:37:44 PM by TenebrousGaze

That much money for just breaking and entering?... I was right, this is rather.. suspect...

Shira's eyes narrow imperceptibly. Then she closes them and smiles politely.

"Yeah, she's right! Are you sure there's nothing you're not telling us?"

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with. If there was, then I would've surely told you about it." The Martian told them. It was clear from her tone she did not plan on saying anything more than what was already said. Starting to get up from the table, "There's nothing worth keeping in there. Just destroy it all. Surely you all can do such a simple job, can you not?"

It took Ray a moment to feel a massive wave of killing intent emanate from Shira. He'd accompanied his father on a couple of missions, and been in a firefight. It hadn't fazed him. But now...Now he felt like he was inches from the gate to Hell.

"S-sorry. I'm a bit on edge is all. I know he's not really alive, but still. It's hard to think of something that can talk as not alive, y'know?" Ray said, tone hushed. He couldn't meet Shira's eyes. Still, she hadn't really said anything to his offer. He got the impression she wouldn't rat him out. He got up, somewhat awkwardly, and headed back to the bar.

((Ah, this is something I don't do a lot, where my dude is just interacting with an NPC. But this was a scene I really wanted to write, since it has stuff about Ray's past! But you can prolly ignore it if you're not into reading that kinda thing!))

Ray approached the bar, somewhat more slowly than usual. V was still sitting on a stool. He was pouring yet another whiskey down the coin slot. Ray had been avoiding thinking about how to go about this for a while now. He figured the best route would be to ask to see some of the robot's wares.

"Hey there." He said, putting a little too much enthusiasm into it. "I'm in the market fo-"

"Ray Gunn. You just discussed my murder in the very same bar as myself. And now you expect me to give you information on your father. That's not very polite." V said. His tone was at a low volume, his thick southern drawl caressing Ray's ears. Ray was stunned. He started to speak, but was interrupted by V.

"I recognized the gun I sold you nine years ago. That in and of itself wouldn't be enough, but you're wearing your father's jacket."

Ray was speechless. He felt completely outgunned, and nobody had even drawn a weapon. And what did you say to what amounted to a talking vending machine who knew you were plotting to kill it?

"Um." He said. He couldn't just tell V that he wasn't a true AI, so killing him was no different from breaking a vacuum cleaner. His eyes trailed down to V's empty glass. "Why do you drink?" He asked.

"Keeps up appearances. And it's a good way to meet new clients." V said. He gestured with his pincher, giving the tentacled robot equivalent of a hand wave, and Ray tensed very slightly. That thing looked like it could crush his head."Don't feel so bad. I'm not a true AI, so killing me would be no different from breaking a vacuum cleaner. I'm programmed to tell you that I'd prefer you didn't. But that's because my programmer wants me to survive, not because I want to."

"So you don't mind if I ask you about my father?" Ray asked.

"I have very strict confidentiality restrictions. Especially for a regular like Otto. Unless..." V clutched the end of the bar, and sent himself slowly spinning in the stool. "My employer has a vested interest in that 10k mission succeeding. If you come back from it, I'll tell you anything you need to know."

"Alright. Deal." Ray said. He briefly considered shaking on it. But again, from the looks of V's claws, he doubted that he'd get his hand back. "Do you know anything about the mission?"

"I assure you, Ray, I have a deep respect for life. I would never do anything that would get a living creature killed." V said. "You better hurry. They're talking about taking the mission over there."

"Alright. Er." Ray hesitated for just a moment. "Thank you." He said, before heading off to the table with Kitcha and the cloaked Martian. The mood was tense as hell for some reason. He decided to see how this played out before asking to join up with them.

Ray sat at his previous seat, draping his red jacket over the back of the chair, the metal inserts audible. Underneath, he had on a tight black tank top, which showed off his toned body. He wasn't huge, but he had arms covered in sleek, lean muscle, and looked like he could handle himself. He was trying to look somewhat confident...But he was still playing with that exact same lock of hair. As the green space lady stood up, Leo caught something she said.

"So there is something she's not saying." Leo said.

edited 29th Dec '15 2:27:20 PM by HeroicSociopath

Kit spoke once more before the lady could walk away.

"Oh, we'll smash the stuff, trust us on that. Just give us the coordinates and it'll be done soon enough."

He was incredibly suspicious but he also needed money and he couldn't afford to be picky. Plus, she seemed to be offering it to the entire group, so they would have strength in numbers if they could be convinced to work together.

... Was that a dig at my intelligence..?... It doesn't matter. I need the money. Whatever she's hiding.. Oh well.

Still smiling, she responds, "Well, if that's it then I guess I'll accept the job."

@HS: Ah sorry, I wasn't sure if that was directed at her. >_> Edited

edited 29th Dec '15 2:58:48 PM by Daydre

"I'll take the job," Snakeye responded. "I'm good with destruction and shooting things."

Sounds like easy money, which means it almost certainly isn't. Still, it's good money so it doesn't have to be easy, Geoff thought. "I'm in," he said aloud. "What planet, and how do we get there?"

“Yeahhhhhhh, you’re right,” Kitcha passively responded to the Martian’s insistence, feigning a smile of content. At least, feigning in regards to the information disclosed. The smile’s content for the money on the table was as genuine as it could be. “Count me in,” she declared, placing a palm on the table. “I could go for a change of pace from the usual type of job, anyway. Broaden my horizons, you know?”

After she accepted the mission, Kitcha’s eyes happened to wander over towards the human that was waiting nearby their discussion, who seemed to be paying attention to it while also not actually joining them. “Hey, uh… you just gonna keep on staring at us over there, buddy? If you saw the job, the pot’s plenty enough to share with a couple more...”

The Martian pressed another button, turning off the Hologram, "Mars. My ship is particularly fast, so it won't be too long of a flight." As she spoke, she started to pull her device back into her cloak.

And then, the bell rang again as a group of Martians walked in. They seemed to wear Martian-looking armor ((so they look like high-tech Spartans)) as they approached the bartender. The Cyclops of a woman looked them over before they brought up their own holographic-pads, showing a picture of a Martian Woman-the woman our heroes were talking to right now.

Snakeye eyed them and lifted one of his legs, he was reaching for his DL 44, just in case he needed it.

The biotron contemplated the possibility he had too many firearms.

Shira notices the Martians.

Oh my.. So she's got a bounty?

She pulls out her (currently blade retracted) plasma knife just in case, closing her hand around it to obscure it from view.

Welp, shoulda seen this coming. So much for grabbing that drink… Kitcha remarked to herself as the armored Martians introduced themselves to the bartender, giving the Martian woman a split-second glare of dissatisfaction. With a couple of hands at her side, the insectoid stood herself up, taking a few steps to distance herself from the table. Come on, Kitcha, improv…

Her eyes darted around for one of the tavern’s generic looking customers. That one guy in the corner drinking far away from the Martian’s table would do. Taking a seat about 15 feet away from that one guy, Kitcha focused all of her mental cognition on that one guy. No, not just that one guy in general… but that one guy’s brain. A little psychic influence could easily provoke his nerves to induce a sudden, fierce headache- no wait, she second guessed herself, that's a stupid idea. It'd be much more exciting to excite him by psychically raising his adrenaline levels, instead, which she got to work on. The real question would be whether this would create the distraction she hoped it would...

edited 30th Dec '15 11:10:22 AM by Cedi

((@Daydre Haha, don't worry, I was very unclear. It was my fault.))

"Oh? Thank you." Ray said to Kit. "Name's Ray. I have a favor I owe someone." He looked the bug girl over. If he had been wearing sunglasses, he'd have lowered them to reveal his sky blue eyes. He might have said something when he caught a glimpse of the armored soldiers at the bar. They were armed and it looked like they were out for his new employer's head.

"Be right back." He said, putting his jacket on. He headed to the counter, passing behind the soldiers.

"I'm about ready to take off. I'll have one for the road. Just...Give me the biggest container of beer you can, alright?" He asked.

As the Martians approached the bar and spoke to the bartender Geoff pot his hands on the hilts of his electro-guns, setting them to heavy stun. After all he might want to come back here some day.

"Friends of yours?," he said to the Martian woman.

"Oh, sure thing, kid." The Bartender gave Ray a nod before one of her droids raced off to fill up a container. Meanwhile, she turned back to the Martians at her counter, each of the three of them looking at three different Martians in the bar-including the woman who was paying our heroes.

"No." The Martian Woman mumbled, "I'm sure you'd rather not want any messy details. So, get me out of here, and you can have half of your money up front." She offered as one of those Martians had a hand on what looked like a pistol.

As soon as the martian gave the word, Ray sprung into action. The pitcher went flying at one of the soldiers. At the same time, he slid his gun from it's holster. With a flick of his thumb, he set it to "Freeze" mode, aiming and firing the ice beam at the (hopefully soaked) opponent. Normally it would encase the enemy in about an inch of ice. But with the beer added, the shell would be thicker and harder to break out of.

"Oh God Damnit!" snapped the owner. Why did things always break out in a gun fight in her bar?!

With one of the Martians frozen in place, the remaining two immediately pulled out their laser-pistols. One of them was pointed at Ray as he fired his laser-bullets at the gunslinger.

Martian2, on the other hand, had his gun set on the table where our heroes were, "None of you move!" He demanded, finger on the trigger when, suddenly, a crashing noise came from the corner of the bar.

It turns out, the drunk that Kitcha was using her psychic powers on became very hostile. His eyes were blood-shot and he just threw his pitcher at another bar patron. And that was all it took as various people started taking out their various guns. Bullets, laser blasts, and broken glass began to fly across the room as a stray shot hit Martian2's leg, causing him to fall onto one of his knees.

Snakeye drew his DL 44 and opened fire, tucking behind the bar as well for cover.

The Biotron stuck his head out and eyed the martians still there. What would they want anyways with the Bartender?

Kit sighed deeply as the fight started to break out. A confined space full of extra parties would be alright if the other side cared about collateral damage but it wasn't clear if that was the case and they had to get out eventually anyway.

The cyborg flipped the table towards the closest Martian and took the mechanical shield off his back. Hiding behind the table and covering himself with his shield he started firing at the martians as well; hopefully an attack on multiple fronts would have better luck.

Geoff pulled his guns and aimed them in the direction of the Martians not at the bar.

"You want to stay peaceful and finish your drinks, right?" Then in a low voice he said to the client, "Get behind us and start moving towards the exit."

edited 31st Dec '15 7:08:07 AM by tricksterson

Shit.

Shira kicks over another table to provide cover and slides the case off her shoulder. She opens it and quickly aims s few stun shots at any Martians still standing.

As soon as the firefight broke out, Kitcha ducked underneath her current table, holding a hand to her torso. With a tap of the rounded device mounted to her cloak, she began to vanish, reduced to a shimmering outline of herself.

That should be enough of a distraction… probably, she reflected, poking her camouflaged head towards the hooded Martian and company. Taking care to avoid the chaotic shootout’s crossfire- as much of it as she could in the middle of a bullet hell, anyway- she skittered from table underside to table underside, trying to close in on one of the standing armored Martians’ backsides without being spotted, the hilt of her retracted sword in hand.

Ray dove to the ground as #1 opened fire across from his frozen friend, not not before he felt the sting of a laser burn. He might have to look at it later, but it didn't feel life threatening.

Ray knocked one of the tables on it's side, and from behind it, swapped his gun over to electric mode. Then he dared a peek over it. If the soldier who had just fired on him was standing, he'd zap the hell out of him.

"No arguments here." The Martian nodded, pulling out and strapping on a watch. With the press of a button, an energy shield projected from the device.

As Ray ducked under a table, Martian1 had pressed a button on his own blaster, the pistol turning into a laser-powered rifle as he kept his eyes on Ray-or at least, he tried to, having to duck behind his frozen comrade as bullets and glass flied through the room.

Meanwhile, Martian2 hobbled and had his back to the bar stand, gun pointed at Geoff as laser-bullets were shot at the Beastman.