He could hardly see the other side of the VIP room for all the smoke. Muffled bass from the pit outside rattled the bones and stirred the primal desires of all who could hear it. It was a Raafa-Kon, a Minmatar club, and the music was composed for that very purpose.
Damay reached for the Blue Pill booster gun laying on the table his Gallentean entertainment was dancing on, rolled up his sleeve and jammed the needle of the delivery mechanism into the meat of his arm. He could feel the euphoria rush through his veins, calm his nerves and lower his temper while he listened to the Faction War junkies tell him how great the militia was.
"I'm just sayin' if you flew under the Minmatar banner again you wouldn't need to ransom anything anymore."
"He's right man," A large Brutor said through the legs of his even larger Brutor dancer. "That Navy Caracal you ransomed for what 90mil? The militia woulda payed twice that in LP for the kill."
"Not to mention how much time you must waste looking for targets. You could probably secure five or ten complexes in the time it takes you to find one fight." The first man, a weaselly looking Intaki added.
"It's not about the money assholes," Damay replied, leaning back and closing his eyes. "It's about the freedom, not having a war to win or some dickwads political agenda to push." He smiled wickedly. "Its about killing whoever you want and taking whatever you can, whenever you can."
Damay looked up and caught the eye of his dancer. A curious purple looked back at him and he nodded his head in the direction of the door.
"Whatever, you're still a dying breed."
The bliss of the drugs changed to hot rage in an instant. The pistol appeared from nowhere and the shot hit right between the eyes.
"WHAT THE FUCK MAN!" The Brutor exclaimed. "He's a capsuleer, that did nothing but send him back to his clone bay!"
"I like him better there," The pistol disappeared again and Damay put his arm around the dancer, walking her towards one of the clubs many weightless recreation modules.
Damay reached for the Blue Pill booster gun laying on the table his Gallentean entertainment was dancing on, rolled up his sleeve and jammed the needle of the delivery mechanism into the meat of his arm. He could feel the euphoria rush through his veins, calm his nerves and lower his temper while he listened to the Faction War junkies tell him how great the militia was.
"I'm just sayin' if you flew under the Minmatar banner again you wouldn't need to ransom anything anymore."
"He's right man," A large Brutor said through the legs of his even larger Brutor dancer. "That Navy Caracal you ransomed for what 90mil? The militia woulda payed twice that in LP for the kill."
"Not to mention how much time you must waste looking for targets. You could probably secure five or ten complexes in the time it takes you to find one fight." The first man, a weaselly looking Intaki added.
"It's not about the money assholes," Damay replied, leaning back and closing his eyes. "It's about the freedom, not having a war to win or some dickwads political agenda to push." He smiled wickedly. "Its about killing whoever you want and taking whatever you can, whenever you can."
Damay looked up and caught the eye of his dancer. A curious purple looked back at him and he nodded his head in the direction of the door.
"Whatever, you're still a dying breed."
The bliss of the drugs changed to hot rage in an instant. The pistol appeared from nowhere and the shot hit right between the eyes.
"WHAT THE FUCK MAN!" The Brutor exclaimed. "He's a capsuleer, that did nothing but send him back to his clone bay!"
"I like him better there," The pistol disappeared again and Damay put his arm around the dancer, walking her towards one of the clubs many weightless recreation modules.
