Jacob Clarke's Story

Sliver had accepted the cigarette offered to him, and was taking a drag off of it while he watched the proceedings before him with interest. One fire-brand running into another, he reflects idly. He'd taken the currency offered by Clarke with a nod of thanks, though he eyed the notes out of the corner of his eye as he pockets them. Paper currency was uncommon in these parts, which meant these Marines were probably not local.

Dismissing that, he looks about at the rest of the Marines, who were collecting around their new friend and her accident. Except one guy who was talking to... a man, he supposed it probably was. "I'll go get us set up," he says simply, taking another drag and walking forward, to head through the doors; assuming, of course, that Clarke wouldn't try to stop him.

Cor's ears turned a shade of red they had never turned before. She was embarrassed at being called a 'lady friend' of Hercules. Not only were her ears red from embarrassment but anger, too. That red-headed woman's accusations were preposterous!

"What are you looking at me like that for!" Cor yelled at the other woman. "If you think I am going to apologize, you get somewhere faster if you went and fucked yourself!"

"And you should watch where you're going! People around here have shit to do without having dumb-asses run into to them!" Cor tugged on her short coat as was habit before she stormed away from the red-headed woman, following after Sliver.

Alex folded her arms across her chest, grey eyes hard but full of mocking laughter at the woman as she walked away. She called that an insult? Well, it's time to correct the snobbish woman and put her in her place.

Her accent was thick from her hometown, barely understandable if she were talking any faster. "Think youer all bad, don'cha? A simple apology wouldn't 'arm ya snot-nosed pride, 'specially since youer the one who ran into me. At least aye'm not flittin' around 'ere like a girl who's gone got herself love struck cause she's been asked to dance. An' who would ask et of ya? 'Ell, youre uglier than a donkey's arse and 'ave two big left feet to boot. You'd send the pour lad-- or lass, as it may-- to the emergency ward in only a matter of seconds. And pardon me, I was mistaken 'bout the lady part. Youer as ugly on the inside than out, although you curse as poorly as my dear ole mam!"

She then did a mocking bow, sure the other woman would have turned around by now. The sweep was comically low, although formal with her arm tucked at her waist. "But where's my manners? It is obvious aye ran into royalty. Who'da thought?! A real royal pain in the ass!" She grinned widely. "Did aye harm youer ego when ya bashed into me, my Maj-ass-ty?" She drew out the words, purposely. "Or bruise youer pride? Aye've heard those things are fragile, especially for 'un so pampered as youerself."

So much for curving the tongue..

The marines left Clarke to follow the pilot and Cor, chuckling to themselves at the prospect of leaving their infallible captain for fixing that particular mess. Gray ribbed Marcus with a laugh. "The ones in the red are, if that wasn't obvious. Takin' a new contract, and going cold turkey? Damn, that takes some determination, good luck." Gary snorted and took a breath. "Probably in there, where my friend's are going. Seeyaaround." Gary lifted himself off the wall and flicked away the smoke.

Clarke stared at Alex. "I'm guessing you're alright. If I had the time, I'd offer more help but I need to go sort out this contract business with those two. You be glad you're not stuck with them." The marine smiled thinly and slipped past her and into the diner, only to slam his forehead against the overhanging sign with a loud and audible "Fuck!" that made a few people outside jump in fright and booted open the doors with his armored knee.

The captain bent low and slammed his ass into a chair. "Best diner my ass..." Clarke muttered, his squad too busy laughing to pay attention.

Any joking in Gary's voice completely sailed over Marcus' head as he casually answered, "Yeah, I'm pretty much amazing. Oh uh, bye." And with that his eyes trailed after the man as he wandered away. For a moment he had forgotten why he had been loitering in his determination to not look suspicious, but now he recalled quite clearly he was hunting a ship and crew. Dusting off his overcoat he waited a good five or six seconds before he followed off in the same direction as Gary, before he finally marched into the diner after the squad and headed towards the counter.

Ah this was the perfect place. People everywhere, food, the chance to eavesdrop without being caught and a friendly environment where approaching people wouldn't get you kicked out. Secretly he was actually hoping to catch whatever guy had mentioned being a pilot earlier when he first started stalking the group. For now he just found a quiet table by himself and sat down, staring at the menu but not reading it at all.

Cor stopped when the red-headed woman started talking. She listened to every word that was said but never once turned around to look at her. Cor did not want to give her the satisfaction. The woman stuck her finger in her ear and pretended to clear some ear-wax.

"Huh, there was something buzzing in my ear. It sounded childish and rude and very bad at speaking any kind of language. Oh well," Cor sighed. It was an obvious insult to Alex, but it just did not seem good enough. Cor's eyes narrowed as she stared at the entrance to the diner. She could smell the food from here but she had a feeling she was about to get arrested.

Cor whipped around on her heel and faced Alex. "Look here, bitch. I don't need your shit. I've had a long ass day and an even longer-" Cor did not finish her sentence before all Hell broke loose. She lunged at the woman, fully intent on brawling it out right in the middle of everything and everyone.

Cor did not fight like a man. No, she fought like a woman. Hair was pulled, nails scraped, fingers poked whatever they could. Cor tried to go for the throat to choke the woman too.

It was safe to say that a crowd was gathering to watch. A man started making a pool for bets.

The grin on Alex's face grew slightly when Cor responded with her lame come back of trying to play it off passively. She knew she had gotten to her. Straightening up, she dropped her bag and her jacket down and was straightening her gloves as Cor whipped around to face her.

When Cor lunged, she was taken down completely to the ground. Her hair was short, and although it hindered her movement, it didn't seem to bother her that much Cor was pulling it, or even scratching the hell out of her. No, Alex had grown up with 6 boys and was the middle child. She had learned to take a hit, and scratches were only side effects. Throwing full punches, she tried to wrestle with the woman to pin her down in a way that Cor would not be able to fight anymore. A painful pin-down that would only be released if Cor said 'uncle'.

Alex had also helped her dad with being a mechanic. Although thin, she was stronger than she looked. And all the while, she had this shit-eating grin upon her face. It had been a bad day for her as well, and although she was probably going to be arrested, it was a great stress reliever to take it out on someone.

Sliver had chosen one of the largest tables in the little establishment; it was a rather nice place, on the inside, with dark metal walls and dim lights, designed to be more of a special foods place than simple fast food. Clarke had joined him, as had some of the Marines, though there was no sign of Cor. This causes a slight frown to cross the man's face, though he looks up as the Waitress comes over, giving her a grin and ordering their food.

Outside, the battle royale, cat-fighting style vs. tomboy, as the man shouting out bets had decided to dub it, had drawn the attention of not just people, but Trade Order Station/District Order Keepers- called Tosdok for short. They were standing on the edges of the small war, waiting for their prey to tire eachother out before moving in. They had gotten there alarmingly quick, one might imagine.

Marcus had been approached by one of the waitresses not long after he'd sat down. "Hey there sugar, welcome to Bad Trade... get you anythin'," she asks, perhaps noticing his vacant stare.

As all the marines joined Silver at their table, pooling money on the table on the cat-fight, Clarke sighed. Was this really what he had to look forward too? The captain sighed. "Get me a raw steak, Silver, and the boys some kiddie meals." The 'boys' replied with a universal growl of affirmatives, a kiddie meal in the usual places they went too usually were the right amount of calories, especially if it was real meat.

Clarke pushed himself up, leaving the diner and shoving people to the ground in his effort to get though the crowd. The button on his holster was flicked up and the captain's fingers slipped around the familiar holster. The revolver was a sleek looking thing, the frame had 'Son' written on it in red marker and the marine pulled back the hammer with his thumb, went to raise it in the air, thought of the consequences and slipped it back in the holster.

"Fuckin' animals." Clarke roared, grabbing two nearby civilians who were recording the thing on their gadgets and threw them on the ground with a fluid throw of his arms, breaking the fight ring and going for both Cor and Alex with his sledgehammer shaped hands, which both were aimed at their throats to split them up and lift them in the air.

"Goody two shoes, that's our captain alright." Davis said to Silver, grinning. "What's the deal, my man?"

Cor was, frankly, getting the snot beat out of her. She was no fighter and it seemed that her opponent was a decent one, in the least. A fist punched her square in the eye and Cor yelled out a string of curses. Another punch to her face split her lip and Alex boxed her right ear.

Cor was defeated, and too much in pain to continue the fight but it seemed that Alex was not done just yet. The woman grappled Cor into a compromising position that made her muscles cramp. All Cor had was a little bit of elbow movement but there wasn't much to do with it.

That is until she realized where it was positioned. Cor, with all her might, brought back her elbow dead-center on Alex's breast, intent on at least causing the woman some of the pain Cor was in. She was really going for the ribs. The breast was just unfortunate that day.

"Get the fuck off of me! I have a date with a very important and attractive man! Ow! Ow ow ow ow!" When most would believe Cor to call out for Hercules, it was surprising that she yelled for Sliver instead. Cor had no allies in Foundations but he was the one she would choose if she had to do so.

"Say 'uncle'!" Alex yelled, her teeth gnashed together in the effort of holding this woman down. She was a wiggly one, taller too, but not by much. Then came the blow to the breast. She winced but thanked her lucky stars it wasn't lower. She still held down on the woman with her weight and strength.

"Ya done yet? Or do we gotta go 'nother roun--" She hadn't seen the man, although he was hard to miss. The giant towered over her like she were a little girl and grabbed her neck and lifted her up off the ground. Surprise only hit her face once, and then she was pulling at the captor's grip in order to try to loose herself from it.

"B-big oof..!" She weezed, struggling. She glared bullets at Clarke, wanting nothing more than for the man to simply disappear. Being man-handled was one thing, but this was too much. "Lemme go..!" She breathed.

Not a moment before reaching the diner and already hell was breaking loose with a fight, causing a quirked eyebrow of alarm from Marcus to rise. And then he saw the combatants. Women. A roll of his eyes and a small smirk crossed his face for a moment, content that he was well mixed enough in the crowd not to be seen. And then forth stepped a man much bigger than Marcus himself, taking the noble choice of stopping the fight.

Already a little cog in Marcus head ticked at the sight, a small spark of inspiration as for the moment he hovered nearby waiting for the combat to cease and the crowds to disperse.

Sliver simply watches as Clarke heads outside. He decided he was going to stay put; the man seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, so maybe he would bring Cor and her new friend along back with him. If they weren't back inside in a few moments, he would go look for them. His moment of reflection was broken by one of Clarke's men breaking the relative silence.

Turning to look the man over, Sliver pauses for a moment before offering his hand. "Worth quite a lot," he says in response to the inquiry. "What's your name, Marine?"


Outside, as soon as Clarke had broken up the fight, the crowds began booing and hissing at him. "Hey," shouts the man who was running the whole betting scheme, "I had good money on her!" He points at Andra. "Let 'em finish!" His words were met with approval from most everyone- except the Enforcers, who were now moving in through the crowds, dispersing them with harsh words and veiled threats when necessary.

Hercules had lifted Cor, too, by the collar of her short coat. It was a good thing he was not able to grab onto her neck because the next thing she saw was the Enforcers. Cor's eyes went wide in surprise. She had not expected them to arrive so soon. Lifting her arms above her head, Cor wiggled out of her coat.

As soon as the woman's feet touched the ground, she was gone. Cor took off into a run into the diner, lightning quick. She may not have been good at fighting but when it came to flee, she was a comet rocketing across the stars.

Cor saw Sliver and pushed people out of her way to get to him.

"Hey! We have got to go. Now!" she urged Sliver, looking back toward the entrance to the diner. The last time Sliver saw Cor there definitely was not a blackeye on Cor nor was there a split lip. She looked worse for wear and it may have been obvious why they needed to leave so suddenly.

Marcus sauntered after Clarke, seeking him out with a wave of his hand trying to catch the mans attention amidst the Enforcers and his own crew. "Hey," he called out as he neared, using his narrower frame to weave between the crowds after the man. "Man, good show. Splitting them up smoothly." If he managed to get close enough he'd fall in line with him and pat him on the arm.

"Breaking up the crowds like that. You in a rush to get going places?" he asked. "Can't blame you. Just wanted to compliment you ont he fine job and introduce myself." A hand dropped to be offered. "Captain Marcus Turner." Even amidst a hurry he could smoothly make acquaintances.

Sliver gave Cor a bit of an odd, almost amused look, before he recognized the panic in her face as rather genuine. She seemed to have come out of her brawl with some battle scars, though that didn't seem to be...

Ah. Local enforcers, naturally. For some reason or other- not that it was his business to pry- she needed to avoid them. "Very well," he says, looking back at Davis. "Ask your boss to create a bit of a distraction, then meet us at Hangar Three. Look for the Snake-class Combat Shuttle 'Sneaky.'." He stands and gives a brief nod to Cor, before leading her out the back way.


Outside, the Enforcers were coming up on Clarke, Marcus, and Andra. There were five of them, wearing the basic Trade Order station armor, which was fairly light. They all had the mark of the Pardus Militia on their chests, however, rather than Trade Order enforcers.

With the fight seemingly broken up, they had somewhat lost their thunder, staring up at the large man. "Where did the other one go," one of them, apparently the ranker, demands.


---


Shard smiles back at Deirdre, downing the rest of his drink and standing. "Great," he says, handing her an access card. "I'm leaving soon aboard a private shuttle, the Sneaky. Meet me there; it's in Hangar Three." He gives her a wink and then practically disappears into the crowds, moving quickly; apparently something had gotten a fire under his arse.

Alex was dropped, and she landed half crouched on her feet. She wiped a bit of blood from her cut lip. "Aye didn' start et... She threw the first un.. Though can't say et was much of a punch, more like bein' hit by a marshmellow.." She muttered, her hand going up to the bruise on where she had hit her head on the woman with the first collision. "Though, 'er head is solid, I'll give 'er that.." She complained, wincing as she tenderly poked it.

Her eyes darted to the Enforcers. She knew she was caught, but she didn't feel like going to prison. Her only contact she'd be able to get was her Father. And how could she explain that she had gotten into a fight and ask him to get her out without dragging her sorry ass back home?

She grumbled and rubbed the back of her neck with a sigh. "Man, all Aye'm lookin' for is the fawkin' Marine recruiter and I get myself into this mess." She grumbled rather loudly. She looked up at Clarke. "There ain't a bit of hope you'd get me out of this, is there?" She doubted the giant would answer her back.

Still, she would face her punishment for disrupting the peace. The other chick had fled, and if her earlier speculations had been correct, she was rather important. She would get all the blame for this, most likely. What was the punishment for fighting again? She had heard rumors of lashings for fighting in the neutral zone. Her clouded grey eyes look like a storm brewing at the thought.

Clarke turned around and shook the hand that Marcus offered him. "Clarke, Judicator PMC." The captain replied, smiling thinly as he saw the enforcers come out of the crowd. The marine picked up the discarded jacket off the floor and passed it Marcus without so much of a please.

Davis finished sending the message to his captain, gesturing to his squadmates to check their safeties and followed Silver out the back door. "Check your fuckin' corners, don't want a goddamn repeat of Tau Volantis, eh?" Davis ordered the men in the lack of Clarke's presence, pulling out his magazine and checking the remaining ammunition. 56... 54.

Davis shook his head, slammed the magazine back home and flanked to the side of Silver. "You expectin' company? We kneecappin' or baggin'?"

Clark shot Alex a look. "If you wanted to join a bloody marine core, you're welcome to join the Judicators. Your application starts now." The marine stepped forward and would try and gently push her behind him. "We're gonna jump these guys, and head off to a ship called the sneaky." Clarke said with his head turned towards them as he walked towards the enforcers.

"How's it goin, assholes?" The marine shouted, giving them an aggressive shrug. "You guys still shit at your job? Fuckin' redneck dipshits. Come on, fight me, what's the worst that could possibly happen? Chip a nail?" Clarke yelled, taking a step forward and putting his face right infront of the ranking leader.

"Come on then, if you think you're hard enough. You and me, let's go."

Cor followed after Sliver. The ident card given to her earlier by Greaser was left in her short jacket. A pang of panic shot through the woman and she looked over her shoulder to watch for followers. If someone was to get a hold of that card she was going to be in deep trouble. She never kept up on legalities but Cor knew that fraud and possibly theft (by the vibe she had gotten from Greaser and from Sliver's vague information).

"Faster. We have to go faster," Cor urged Sliver. The jobless pilot did not want to get thrown into a brig.

Passing by a clothing vendor, Cor grabbed a jacket made from silver-metallic looking material and shrugged it on. The movement was so quick and seamless that no one noticed the theft. The next vendor sold hats and one disappeared. Cor pushed her hair up underneath it.

The next surprising thing Cor did was push her arm through Sliver's and walked closer to him. Cor may not have been good at fighting but disappearing into a crowd seemed a specialty; a skill that most did not know she had. If the Enforcers began to look for a blue haired woman they were definitely not going to find her. Their eyes were easily pass over the 'couple' enjoying their walk toward Hangar Three.

Marcus accepted the jacket in a gingerly held hand, then tossed it over the top of his overcoat. It didn't quite work, but he figured it must be some kind of sign of acceptance or welcoming. Still, he had a good vibe from the rough handshake the two shared, and now they were facing the enforcers, and Clarke was calling out their captain. This man was full of testosterone. Everything around him seemed to gravitate towards excitement.

But a keen ear heard all he needed to hear, the ship name. With a wry grin he slipped off to the side, looking to distance himself from the PMC and Alex, tugging on his jacket and turning his shoulders away. "Best of luck," he uttered under his breath not loud enough to be heard as he headed roughly in the same direction Davis, Silver and Cor, but with enough sense to keep his distance so as not to be seen too obviously following them.