Michael Brody's Story

Michael hated the sensation of entering a door, any door, a marine felt as he came into a building. He had no assault rifle for whatever bastard would be on the other side, no battle blade at his hip to gouge a man’s neck through. Ratter, some punk kid from the Inner Empire - Sarguska or some pansy shit - was enough for Michael to snap out of his momentary haze before the music and lights consumed him and the trio of others that made it past the bouncer at the front.

“ -- And man, you best believe I straight told that shithead him and his boys better not come around again after ol’ Mikey over here dealt with their last little flare up!”

His voice, Michael hated that voice. It was the kind of voice people on their deathbed were glad they were soon dying, to be relieved from the sounds this human being made. Any time prior he might have just stopped in the middle of the hallway right now and stabbed him to death, but once again he had nothing. Michael was quick with pretending normalcy with the other men around him.

“Just taking care of business, Rat.” Michael offered nonchalantly, eliciting a big laugh from the pot-bellied Azric in front of him. Mavis was a syndicate entrepreneur, or what essentially passed as a legitimized con-man taking advantage of the inherent stupidity of people now-a-days.

“Whatever gets those Volos or whatever the fuck they call themselves out of my fucking hair.” Mavis lead the entourage of Scatterrans to the floor, their eyes quickly going to the enormous tank in the center of the building.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Michael clicked his teeth together for a second, as in the back of his mind somewhere that foul wretch devoid of even naked women on the internet suddenly became a screaming pain.

“Oh yeah -- they had a good idea with that tank right?” Mavis’ typical chuckle was enough to make Michael want to snap necks, though: his smile faded just as quickly as he turned away from a particular Taihjan, and wished he might have taken some time for himself when he had first gotten into town. Curiously he took one last glance over his shoulder, back at the stage as Mavis began droning on about his precious relationship with Metro City.

“Y’know, I’ve got a special place in businesses like this -- Ratter, you know, right?”

Xia hated Purgatory. She hated every piece of it. Unfortunately dancing for Xia was an addiction to the wealth. It was a method of earning cash under the table that couldn’t be traced. And Xia’s fat stacks were used to buy cocaine.

A hand slapped Xia’s backside and she held out her hand to the man. He passed her a bill with a sleazy grin on his drunken face. Xia gave him a sly little wink of her sculpted eye as she sashayed her way toward a new group of faces. Her fingers trailed over Michael’s shoulders as she injected herself right in the middle of the gathering.

“Looking for entertainment tonight, gentlemen?” said Xia in a suggestive voice. Her eyes smoldered at Mavis and her tongue ran over the very edge of her teeth. The woman began to tease them with a roll of her hips, which came dangerously close to brushing against Michael.

“Twenty creds for a lap dance. Sixty for the private show,” Xia informed the group of men. She homed in on Michael, who she knew had been staring at her seconds ago, and ran her pale fingers up his chest.

“Let a girl dance for you, hm? I like your hair,” Xia purred before her fingers threaded into the man’s hair and tightened. A devious smile spread across her red painted lips and she leaned in and whispered into Michael’s ear.

She asked the man if he knew where to get her hands on some cocaine before pulling away and offering more teasing gestures to the others.

Michael and the others had only been seated for a while before both the alcohol and the women began to flow. Mavis, in his size taking up the far end of the booth with Michael and the scrawny fuck Ratter just beside him, light up with an eagerness all too disconcerting for a man his age at the mention of cocaine.

“Brody boy what did I tell you, the best women love the snow.” He said with a laugh, and one meaty hand was in his pants somewhere as the Taijhan came in towards Michael.

“You told me,” He replied, also nodding back to the woman with his lips slightly tugging into a smile of his own. The booth let him lean away from the table, and he sure tried to get as far as possible. “Big man will take care of the credits -- whatever they’re called.” Michael’s eyes fluttered for a moment in a euphoric distress, before a punkish chuckle came from his throat.

“I hear you Brody, I hear you.” Mavis said under a dying laugh as a silver card was tossed onto the table. The fat Azric raised a hand from his own corner of the table, and Michael just pitied whatever poor woman had to satisfy that thing in the next fifteen minutes. “You keep up business like this and this can become a fucking daily thing, you marvellous prick ah-ha!”

“I think there’s plenty of motivation there.” Michael said boredly back to the man before lacing his hands behind his head and looking up to the Taihjan woman like a puckish boy.

Xia pressed a button on a panel beneath the table. A long iridescent and lighted pole extended up from the middle of the gentlemen’s table. A screen enclosed the circular booth to lend privacy from the rest of the club.

“What exactly is your business?” Xia asked as she lowered herself against the pole with spread knees. The Taijhan winked at Mavis and continued to display her body with impossible poses on the pole. Dark eyes flicked to the silver card on the table.

Xia stopped dancing and drew out several large Federation bills from bikini top that lent little modesty. She licked her thumb and counted out enough for a ounce. She tucked the rest of it away.

“You said you had some blow,” Xia said to the three men over the music. “I want an ounce.”

The Taijhan waved the bills around and her eyebrows rose. An ounce was a good quantity to ask for but an eight-ball wasn't enough for Xia. The woman loved to party and she partied hard.

The men sat back, imbibing and giving their ocular muscles an exercise before the woman remarked and Mavis put his chunky hands together like some fat kid about to get desert. “I handle some good businesses around these parts.” The Azric shot an eye to over to Michael.

“I’m sure we can have one for you,” Mavis said dryly as a hand slid onto the table as bills came to the board. “Not many looking for a whole ounce huh, oh you must be quite the party girl.”

Michael kept his tongue, partly to finish off the last of his drink, before putting the empty glass onto the table. “There’s still a few left, somewhere. Ratter did the run today last.” He said, quickly shoring off any responsibility on the lackluster prick. He chewed on his lip in a few moments, enjoying the frustrated look Mavis suddenly got as he turned to Ratter and left Michael to eye the Taihjan.

“Well’ve we got any left, son?”

“Yeah, yeah of course!”

Xia gave Michael a slow wink of her eye before she turned her attention back to Mavis. He was holding his hand out for her money without even showing her the goods first. That was unacceptable. Xia was not the type of business woman to shovel her hard earned money away without viewing the product first.

“I’m not giving you anything until I see the ounce,” Xia said with a coy smile. She sat on the edge of the table in front of Mavis and pressed one of her stilettos against the man’s chest. The dancer waved the bills in front of his face again before she snatched them back to her chest.

“You don’t look the type that I can trust with my money,” Xia said to Mavis. The heel dug into his chest just a little more firmly before the Taijhan stood up squatted down in front of Ratter.

“What about you? You have the ounce, don’t you?” She crawled off the table and into Ratter's lap to give him an extra special and personal dance.

Michael and Mavis exchanged a quick toast with each other as the next round of drinks came in, and the talk of the business turned for the profit. “Smart one, huh? I’m alright with some good business.”

Turning the glass back more Michael tried his best to stomach the disgust he felt. The alcohol stung the back of his throat and he let a slow groan come from his throat somewhere as Mavis pulled a little blue baggie from his stuffed pockets.

“We’ve only got a little here right now, you want a sample before a purchase?” Mavis’ grin revealed a row of rather irreparable teeth at the sight of the woman in Ratter’s lap: some sick bastards liked to watch.

Michael put his arms around the top of the booth as the baggie went onto the table and Mavis wrapped his fat fingers around the neck of a beer bottle. “I’m sure you’ll like this though, you look like a girl who knows her poison ah-ha? Yeah.”

The two men laughed at one another, with Michael rolling his eyes and letting his gaze go from the Taihjan to other people around the club.

Xia left Ratter’s lap as the blue baggie came out. A half-smile tilted her mouth as she sat back down on the table. She knew they weren’t going to have an entire ounce on them at one time but Xia needed to know how much she could get her hands on.

“You sample it first,” said Xia. Again, what kind of fool did the man think she was? Xia was not about to snort anything without proof that it wasn’t going to kill her. She didn’t want to turn down a sample but if Mavis wasn’t going to give her proof first than Xia wasn’t going to taste the product.

It was that simple.

“Can you get more than an ounce? And if you can I want to know how much,” the Taijhan said before she turned her skilled attention onto Michael. Right as she began to straddle the man’s lap a strobe light attached to her bustier flickered on. Xia sighed and turned it back off.

“Shift’s over. I’ll get more girls in here if you still want entertainment. I’m not leaving until we conclude our deal,” Xia said as she removed herself from Michael. She stood at the edge of the table and planted her hands on her thin hips.

“Go on Brody, hell you got this shit yourself.”

Mavis waved one hand in the air, the incredulous rings making light from his hands before Michael reached a hand across the table and took the baggie. He flicked the small pack towards him, before looking over to the Scatterran woman and planting one elbow on the table and letting her watch as he prepared a line.

“I sure think we can help you out there -- Michael, you can help the lady right?”

Whenever he was volunteered for things like these Michael wanted to punch a hole through Mavis’ fat face. Clearing his nose with a rub of his palm he slid the tiny baggie and its contents across the table to the woman before he spoke. “I’m sure. What do you want to do?”

“‘Eh you can handle yourself Michael, old man like me can’t be running around Metro City slinging k’s huh? Me and Ratter’ll … stay here, make sure uh … no one’s following you.” Mavis was a terrible liar, but you couldn’t help but think he was maybe too stupid to lie either.

“Alright. Where’ll I get the oh from?” Michael said as he retracted his elbows and seemed ready to leave the table.

“I’m sure you can find someone, just go through the phone list.” Mavis was handing a handheld device over the table to Michael as he rose. As Ratter saw them off by snagging the last of Michael’s drink, he slid himself out from the booth before Mavis hitched a big thumbs up to the woman. “I’m making sure you get juuust the shit you want, this is my best boy for these things baby!”

Xia pressed a button on the console beneath the table. Two Soruks dancing in a nearby steel cage stepped down and made their way toward Mavis and Ratter. They were twins pulling off some overdone yin and yang routine.

A few bills were dropped down onto the table in front of Mavis before Xia took the bag of cocaine. She stooped down and whispered a secret to Mavis. All he had to do as offer a thousand credits for the twins to sleep with him and double to include Ratter.

“I’m sure he’ll take good care of me. If I like what I get I’ll be coming back for more. Hopefully we can make a good partnership in the long run,” said Xia. Her dark eyes turned onto Michael and she peered at him for a minute.

“Let’s just start off with one kilo. How long will it take for you to get your hands on it?” Xia said to Michael over the music.

“I need a time frame. A specific date would be even better.”

Bit was sitting on a stool at the main bar of the club. In front of her was a tall glass full of some black cocktail; from time to time the neon lights gave some green-silver metallic sheen to the drink. She was smoking a beedi and discrete hints of hibiscus fragrance were floating around her.
Bit was wearing black shorts with a beaded metallic fishnet tank top, and there was little doubt about what she had to offer to the clients of the club; but she obviously wasn't putting much effort into adopting a pleasant attitude for them or event paying any attention to them. She was indeed mostly keeping a stern face with a tormented look, while at some other moments a fleeting divergent squint gave the impression she was looking through people or things.