Damay practically stumbled into the dingy dive bar known as the Autocannon for the first time. Tired from a long day of chasing unwilling targets and destroying even less willing opponents, his crisp, tan leather jacket stood out amongst the sea of black jackets emblazoned with the Black Rebel Rifter Club logo. Having just left the shower, his clean and neat appearance stuck out as well in the den of folk that took pride in being some of the dirtiest (in body and spirit) bunch in the cluster. The only article of his uniform that did not seem pristine were combat boots that had clearly seen some better days.
Apparently oblivious to the outright loathful stares he was attracting, he walked up to the bar and ordered a local draught from the bartender. Who was certainly NOT oblivious to the popularity of his new customer. Hap, a retired capsuleer, had been serving the denizens of the Autocannon for a little over a year now and knew what happened to those who weren’t welcome.
“Hey, I dunno who you think you are Mister but I suggest you get the Fuck outta-”
A 500% tip flashed on Hap’s cashier’s terminal. Incredulously, he looked at the newcomer and grumbled something about it ‘being your ass and not mine,’ while he poured the brew in a frosted mug for his clearly unstable customer.
Damay took a deep swig of the cold drink and wandered his way across the loud pub. Weaving around the disgruntled patrons and dodging the scantily clad dancers who practically begged for his money, he stopped when he reached the window that the bar had exclusive access too. The first moon of Planet X in the Heild solar system encompassed the entire right half of the view. Framed by the giant moon and swarming about the undock of the station, Ivy League capsuleers buzzed around like angered wasps surrounding a destroyed hive. A bitter taste filled his mouth overcoming the exotic spice of the beer. They were not welcome in this system and were the sole reason for him being in the region in the first place.
They came with their multitudes of inexperienced capsuleers, who still had goo behind their ears, for the purpose of “training.” In the course of the training though they completely stifled the environment that was once the soul of the Molden Heath region. It was not a region he had traveled in a while but one he still held close at heart.
He fumed for a minute or two longer, thinking about how he could affect the war that these Unistas had started when he noticed a small crowd moving purposefully towards him. He examined their faces as he swallowed the last drops of his drink, none looked particularly friendly and they clearly didn’t think he belonged any more than the Eve University pilots out the window.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” The woman leading the ragtag lynch mob demanded.
Damay leaned against the window, “My name is Damay, I’m here to help with those,” nodding his head back in the direction of the Blob that seemed ever growing.
“Who let you in here? Where did you come from?”
“I’m an ex-Ghostbuster, I moved out here yesterday from the frontlines of the Faction war and I’ve been working lowsec solo longer than you’ve been out of the STI missy so maybe you should show some respect.”
“Who the fuck are the Ghostbusters?! And I don’t give a shit if you’ve got a few solo kills under your belt and a negative sec status, no one just waltzes in here without going through the right channels first! Not to mention that a goddamn pretty boy such as yourself with your cologne and dental-fucking-care shouldn’t even be in this station let alone this bar! So you can go respect yourself right to hell asshole!” She finished, spitting on the toes of the intruder’s combat boots.
By now just about all the eyes in the bar were on them; all the rough and tumble types of the dive were practically salivating at the fresh meat that was about to get roasted. A few of the tables closest to the inquisition were already clearing out, and the group that had first marched up on him had almost doubled in size; much like the Eve University Blob in the window. Damay chuckled to himself a bit and pushed off the wall, getting right in the face of the fiery Caldari female that was accosting him, “Look lady, I’m here to help shoot Unistas, not to ruffle the feathers of some sensitive two-bit puddle pirate. So I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed your delicate sensibilities but if you’ve got a problem with me, why don’t we go ahead and jump in a couple Rifters and settle this like men.”After this challenge the rest of the bar turned to see how the affronter would respond. The same men and women who were just salivating over the impending fight were now no longer sure that the new guy was going to go down so easily. All conversation had stopped, and only the music that the dancer’s no longer danced to filled the stuffy air. Just when it seemed the violence of the room could no longer be contained, one of the back doors slammed open. A huge Brutor man then strode towards the engagement clad in a white coat with a fat cigar dangling from a mouth that boomed with laughter.
“AHAHAHA Lao please, leave our guest alone. He’s alright, I let him in,” Muira Bull exclaimed in a voice that seemed effortless yet filled the room from corner to corner. Lao Mah looked at the Bull in disbelief and took a begrudging step back. “He’s an old friend and adversary of mine. He’s worth his salt in a frig fight too so I might not take him up on that duel if you’re a fan of that rust bucket you got in your hangar. Think of him as a drifter you might pick up to help out in a war such as the one we’ve found ourselves in,” Bull stated giving a Damay a light clap on the shoulder that reverberated through him to his intestines. His mere presence immediately dispelled the tension that had built in the room
“Hey, thanks Bossman,” was Damay’s reply as he watched his hand get swallowed in the catcher’s mitt that passed for Muira’s hand.
“Shit, well I guess if His Reverence says you’re alright then you’re alright,” Lao said in response, heading over to the bar to get herself and the new guy another round. “This one’s on me, and I better not catch you showing any disrespect to Mr. Bull or so help me I’ll take that jacket of your’s and shove it up your arse. No matter what he says about you,”
Damay laughed and downed his second draught. “Hey Bartender! A round for the house on my tab! Give ‘em the top shelf stuff too, we fight the Unistas tonight!” And amid the din this announcement caused, Damay threw an arm around Lao and Muira and led them both back to the counter where the true events of the night would begin.
