Ethan Baird's Story

Clutching his jacket in one hand, Ethan stepped into the bar and let out a ragged breath. Damn, it was cold outside - even the short journey from the bus stop to here had left icicles on his flesh. Noticing the commotion, he hesitated about going any further. Just his luck that the police would show up right after he commits a robbery. He couldn't help it, but they didn't seem to accept that. The black draw-string bag hung over one shoulder was currently stuffed with expensive mobile phones. He didn't exactly need them, but when the mood came...

Skirting around the edge of the soldiers, Ethan made his way to an empty spot at the bar and laid the bag on top of the counter. It was pretty busy - he couldn't see a table, at any rate, or a bartender.

Ethan had watched the girl as she approached with a raised eyebrow. Surely she couldn't be old enough to drink in here? Contrary to his belief, the girl ordered and received a drink with minimal fuss. At which point she turned and eyed his bag curiously. He spent at least five seconds soundlessly working his mouth before anything came out.

"It's a bag of stolen mobile phones. I used my magic wand to teleport into Phones4U, grabbed a few, and then came for a pint."

He glanced at the bar, but the bartender had eluded his gaze once again.

"Well, that was the plan. I didn't quite manage the pint."

He sure hoped she didn't take him seriously.

"Just a pint, please."

The bartender let out another non-committal grunt and then slunk off towards the taps adjacent. Ethan turned his head back towards the girl with his lip securely fastened between his teeth; this conversation was making him uncomfortable.

"Yeah... I'll do that next time."

He lapsed into a nervous - and likely awkward - silence for a few moments.

"So, aren't you a bit young to be in here?"

"'Course you are."

At that point, the bartender - still miserable - rested a pint on the bar in front of him, and held out his hand without a word. Ethan shuffled in his pockets, dragged out a crumpled note note and handed it too him. He disappeared promptly.

"It's working well. Got a bag of mobile phones, after all?" Hey, as long as she didn't ask to look, he was fine. "So.. what's your name?"

Ethan gave her a doubtful nod.

"Ethan. Nice to meet you, Robin."

After a moments hesitation, he stuck out a hand. Not the slickest of movements, but it was better than nothing. At least it distracted attention from the bag of stolen goods resting on the bar beside him. A few hundred pounds worth of stolen mobiles was going to be awkward to explain away.

"I'm a medical student. Started this year."

He was one of the oldest people in his class - in his year - but he was a first-year medical student. He didn't mind telling her the odd detail about his life, but eventually he would have to start lying, and he hated that. Running a finger along a trail of condensation on his glass, Ethan veered away from himself.

"So, what do you do? Still in school?"

"Well, each to their own." Why someone would turn down a free education, he didn't know. Hell, his sister had pretty much demanded that she get hers. But, maybe that made him bias.. "Everyone likes music."

Finally, they had forgotten the bag. "Yeah. That is the plan, anyway. Six or seven years in the future, as long as nothing goes wrong before then." And knowing his life, something would. "Don't you have any long-term plans?"

"A recording deal?"

He couldn't blame her for setting her sights low. He wished he'd had time to be that flippant about things when he was her age - he was still convinced that she wasn't twenty-one. He glanced around the bar briefly. At least the police had cleared out.

"You should. Can't imagine much else happens at your age. I mean, our age[/i]."

"I probably would."

At her age - she was younger! - he had hardly been free to do as he pleased. He hadn't even had the time to hold down a part-time job for more than a few months until he was in his late teens. Still, he didn't get the impression he and Robin were in quite the same boat.

"What brings you into this place, then? It hasn't the greatest of reputations."

What exactly her interests were, she didn't say. He assumed that anything that could be found in Gambit's probably wasn't great, though - murder or drugs, usually. Nothing legal, at any rate. Himself - well, he came here because he didn't know anyone else who did. It was one of the few places in Wing City that he definitely wouldn't bump into anyone from his 'real' life.

"Interesting company was one way to put it." His eyes flicked over towards the various animals and androids that frequented the bar.

"I hang about-"

It was at that point that one of the mobiles in the bag began to ring. Either he had the shitiest luck ever, or he had stolen someones actual[i] phone. He didn't realise until the vibrations ran up his arm and the light began to glow through the bags cover.

"Oh.. erm.. that [i]isn't what it looks like..." He grabbed the bag and stood up quickly, glancing around nervously. "I'd better go. Here take this." He chucked his last remaining fiver on the bar - a cheap bribe, in honesty - and then double-timed out of the bar with his swag bag bouncing on his hip.

Stifling a yawn that threatened to split his face into two, the young medical student thumbed the buses bell and waited patiently as the driver brought the vehicle to a stop. Stumbling from his seat in a daze, he flapped a hand in thanks to the driver and stepped out onto a slightly damp pavement. A few sparse droplets of rain still fell, but the dark clouds had begun to clear so that a lightless, black sky was all that remained. The street was almost completely empty at this time of night, with only the odd drunken couple meandering along the streets, and the occasional taxi streaming by with headlights glaring. Running a hand over his roughly shaven face, he made his way down the street until he reached the small late-night coffee-bar. It was the same one he visited before every late shift, and tonight was no different.

The warmth inside was a startling contrast to the winter bite outside. The air conditioning was on high, and the dim amber lightning gave the cafe an appealing glow. A few other people sat on comfortable armchairs at the entrance, engaged in quiet conversation and another woman off the the side. Otherwise, it was only himself and the staff for the moment. He walked over to the counter and gave the serving boy a polite nod - he saw him regularly, these days -.

"I'll have the usual, please"

"Sure thing. I'll bring it to where you're sitting."

Ethan paid for the drink - a strong, black coffee - and took a seat at the far end of the cafe, where a large window looked out across the street, all the way as far as a small park down the street. He'd never been there, but he liked watching the trees sway in the breeze from afar. He checked his watch, revealing he had forty minutes until his shift began.

The young boy brought over his coffee and then wandered off to prepare a second cup for a boy who had entered just after himself. While busying himself tearing open two sugar packets, Ethan too noted the unusual shape of his ears. He just put it down to some odd genetic surgery - body modifications were ever more common these days. He'd never understand the craze, but who was he to judge?

He tipped two sachets of sugar into the cup and stirred it slowly with a wooden prong. The young woman he had noticed alone had moved over to the boy, but didn't appear to be talking. Peculiar.

Still a little dazed in his sleep-deprived state, he stared when perhaps he shouldn't have.

Ethan was a little startled at the realization that he had been staring at the pair, and that they had realized only made it worse. In his attempt to act nonchalant, he managed to spill part of his coffee on his wrist and let out a large yelp that attracted even more attention. Smiling weakly, he decided he should say something.

He stood up and - cautiously - brought his cup over with him. He set it on the table, but remained standing for the moment. He cast another quick glance over the duo. Something was unusual about both of them.

"I didn't mean to stare. I'm Ethan..."

Ethan stuck out his own hand and shook Lan's hand, not unaware of the odd look that crossed over the other mans face before he was done. He withdrew his hand as soon as possible, and slipped into into the pocket of his jeans. He offered a polite smile to the girl beside him - whom revealed herself promptly afterward to be called Molly. Apparently, a magician herself. There were a lot here, part of the reason why he wanted a transfer out of Wing City ASAP. Too many people without control.

He slid himself into a seat opposite Molly and Lan carefully.

"So. I guess I should make some sort of conversation now I've introduced myself." He gave an awkward half-laugh. "So, what brings you guys to this place in the dead of night?"

Ethan understood exactly what he meant, unfortunately.

"Shame when that happens." He took a sip of his coffee, which was now cooled enough not to scald his lips. "I'm just passing the time until my shift starts. I'm a medical student, working at the hospital down the road."

He jerked a thumb in the general direction of the building. He'd been working there for almost a year now, and hopefully his yearly result would allow him to request a transfer to somewhere else. Anywhere except Wing City, as it happened.

"So... you guys are magicians, huh?"

Ethan found the answers more interesting than he would have expected. He had an awful habit of judging the occupants of Wing City rather... badly. Generally, he thought they were all represented by the occupants of Gambit's Bar. Few too many scuffles in that place, for his tastes. He supposed that the University did bring out the other types though. For some classes, at least.

"Run ragged would be an understatement. I'm kept busy, to say the least." As if to confirm this statement, he yawned. "Fortunately there is very little happening other than being a med student, so I'm not completely dried out yet."

Wait. Wait. Did she say demon hunter? The thought of stalking anything remotely demonic was not something he could imagine the girl doing. It might be deemed a little sexist, but he just couldn't imagine the frail looking girl taking on demons in her spare time.

He'd seen more surprising things, he supposed. Hell, give him a stick of wood and he could do things that made the mind boggle.

He drifted back into the conversation.

"Yeah. My first year there." And hopefully his last, he added mentally.

Ethan nodded. It was true that the hospital being short of staff had helped speed along his work application, but he was equally proud of the fact that they had accepted a first year student. He'd worked hard - and deliberately, didn't use the aid of magic in his work - and he'd been rewarded.

"I can understand that."

He thought the same himself, often. He kept it well hidden behind the student veneer, but he was himself a vigilante. Personally he disliked the term - it implied something negative about what he did. He himself saw it as freedom fighting. Taking out the trash that fucked up the streets. While these thoughts crept through his head, he offered them a polite grin.

"I expect learning medicine is easier than fighting demons. Less risky, at the very least. Still. It's admirable."

Piru District, Acordia, Boron Hole, Skolaris Nebula

A thousand blistering stars pocked the visceral darkness beyond the pristine glass against which his head rested. With closed eyes, he was unable to see the construction of twisted metal that enlarged steadily to engulf the distance. Vaguely ovular in shape, it was a multitude of rectangular sections around which numerous concentric rings circulated, with the largest at the center. Dozens of ships moved endless in a stream to and from the gaping docking bays that permeated its gleaming side, one of which merged into an in-going stream of traffic. In this section of space there were no border controls, no patrols scanning passports or searching cargo holds. As expected, many of the ships were remnants of their production days or simply unlisted craft splattered with obscure and often ominous logos. The ship with the sleeping passenger was a somber gray with viewing windows running along each side of its hull and along its front. An inconspicuous transport class vessel that often skimmed the distance between the station and the edge of Boron space. A hundred people were board the craft that headed towards Acordia, the largest Space Station within the Boron Hole. They would join a population of tens of thousands of the Galaxies outcasts, criminals, opportunists and countless others that found cause to leave charted space.

The man who opened his eyes as the ship jerked was all three of these things, and countless more. A few blinks adjusted his eyes to the light that now flooded the hull, his brain struggling groggily to catch up to the present. People were standing now and chatting amicably to their companions with a glimmer in their eye and a vigor in their step. Those things alone told him they had arrived. Those without hope often dreamed of finding something salvageable on Acordia, though few ever found it. He had been here once before as a child, and despite its pristine appearance it was rife with crime, pestilence, despair, grief and poverty. It was true that you could make your fortune on a place like Acordia and many of the travellers spent their time comfortably. Those that lived on Acordia slipped between the cracks, though. The lucky ones were hookers and dancers, dependent on the frivolous expenditure of zealous young mercenaries. Yeah, he remembered Acordia.

He stood and tugged a dirty ruck-suck onto his back with one hand, its single strap frayed and long past its prime. The crowd aboard the craft moved slowly but steadily towards the lowering ramp, many squinting at the contrasting light that seeped brightly upon them. It took him five minutes to get off the craft. The only mercy in the endless shuffling was that no Nuerverian blocked his path demanding his passport, and for that he was grateful. Before him sprawled the Piru District. He couldn't remember the story behind the name any longer, but he knew that it belonged to the Scarabs. Shit if he knew what a Scarab was, but he could see onyx-coloured insignias everywhere. On clothing, skin, walls and doors - anything that could be painted, inked or singed carried the sign of the districts 'owners'. They were known to ask entry fees from travellers who came alone, and to shoot anyone who refused. He skirted around such an occurrence now. Three burly men in out-dated Sec gear had surrounded an elderly old woman. At least she was old enough to only be murdered if she didn't pay. Pushing the scene out of his mind, he allowed himself to be swept away into the crowds and away from the landing bays. This close to the bays the streets were lined with bars, clubs, hostels and brothels. The homeless dotted dark corners, careful to remain invisible to the onyx-clad men that strolled past them every so often. One of them, a young girl with dirty cheeks and skin a little too pale watched him with large eyes. He tossed a few credits into her lap but didn't allow himself to look her in the eye. Instead he walked on, letting her thank-yous disappear into the hum of noise.

Half an hour later at he was deep in the middle of the Piru District. Tired of walking the crowded streets he had bought himself a small room at a hostel for the night, and gone out in search of somewhere to get a drink. That was how he found himself in one of the less seedy establishments in the district. Booths and tables adorned the edge of the club. The occasional podium held a scantily clad dancer, but no-one touched, and no private rooms were offered. It was classier, even if the clientele were likely to move on to lesser places as the night closed. The odd security guard meandered through the room, making sure no-one forgot themselves. One of them stopped and turned to face him. A tall Vangaru wearing dirty but serviceable Sec gear, pistol holstered at his hip. Left-handed, safety off. He spoke with a slight hiss, voice husky.

"I remember your face, you know..."

Beneath the table, he worked his own pistol from the table an angled it upwards towards the Vangaru's chest. One tug and the reptilian would be dead.

"Interesting."

"Yeah... I waz in a cell oppossite you on Dakha. Heard that prisssy Nueverian bitch caught you. Found out ssince then that you've got quite the reputation in charted sspace."

The Vangaru grinned. He clicked off his safety, finger balanced delicately on the trigger of his gun.

"Dakha. Not heard that name in a while."

"Good riddance to it." The Vangaru spat on the floor to illustrate his point. "I don't know how you did it, but when you esscaped you opened every cell in the prisson."

"No problem."

"I managed to esscape too, becausse of that. I assked the bartender to bring you a drink. Free. I owe you the thankz. Name iz Ranak."

"You're welcome."

"Fare you well, pirate."

The Vangaru smiled, tipped his head back thoughtfully and chuckled, and then walked off. As promised a pretty young Raelin with silky green skin served him a drink with a captivating smile. He took it with a whispered thanks, and watched her skim across the room to serve another table. He swirled the purple coloured alcohol in the glass, thinking. It had been five years since Dakha, but he remembered the Vangaru's face now; the reptilian had been imprisoned for murdering three people during a robbery. Suddenly tired, Ethan downed the drink and stood up to leave. He didn't like being recognised, especially by people that might sell him into Nueverian custody for a bounty.

Back in his room, Ethan collapsed onto his bed still wearing his dusty clothing and the Sec gear he had scavenged months ago. A few scorch marks marred its service, alongside a long crack (A few of which had happened after he had found it) but it was still serviceable. Better than nothing, at any rate. He expected he would need it on Acordia, especially if a bounty hunter recognised him. It was good that he didn't plan to stick around for long. All he needed was to rustle up a crew - though he didn't expect he'd keep any of them, reliable and trust-worthy crew members were hard to find these days - and steal a new ship. The last would be easy with his talents. It was finding a crew desperate and skilled enough to join him and not kill or sell him out that was going to be hard.

With a growing headache, the fugitive Farien known as Ethan Baird slipped into a light sleep.

oh hi there

Aneres Coreveon wasn't dressed as obscurely as she would have liked to believe. The shimmering white kimono-style overlayer embroidered with golden moons down the sleeves, the long-hemmed fringe coming to rest just above the hemline of golden bell-bottoms. Beneath was a plain white top. A golden chain poked out from the collar but the rest of it was tucked beneath the shirt.

There was nothing Aneres could do about the bodyguards who followed her, but she had grown used to that to some degree. At least they let her style them at this point. It made everyone's job easier.

Aneres flicked golden braids to look one way up the street, then the other, then back again. A grunt from one of the bodyguards signaled that it was alright to cross. Halfway across the street she felt a slight tremor of energy. The bodyguards picked up their pace and hurried Aneres across. She didn't protest. They came to stop a stone's throw from a mercedes, a man perched atop the back.

"Did you feel that?" Aneres asked the man, half looking down her nose despite the fact that he was literally seated higher up than where she stood. Her tone wasn't pretentious but there was something about it that dripped with royalty.