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Posted: May 16 2018, 09:17 PM
STORY TITLE: "A Band of Brigands"
UNIVERSE: Star Trek: The Original Series
CHARACTER DESCRIPTION: I play Marcus Taloman, an ex-Starfleet officer who, until recently, was working aboard an old ore freighter. He is now sitting in a bar on Caracus III, a mining colony that is situated roughly 2 light years from the Romulan Neutral Zone.
He's generally mild mannered, and laid back unless pushed. A fair marksman, he's more likely to miss the target when pressed.
He is human, roughly 5'11" tall, with light skin. He has hazel eyes, a thick head of black hair, and wears a goatee. His build is medium, with a little extra girth around the middle, but is in generally good shape. He likes to drink.
NUMBER OF PLAYERS: Unlimited
This post has been edited by Marcus Taloman: May 16 2018, 09:17 PM
John's RP Account
Posted: May 16 2018, 10:44 PM
Marcus leaned forward and picked up his drink, still sitting at the filthy, plastiform counter in the dive he had been sitting in for the past six hours.
"Excuse me?" the bartender asked as she turned toward her only customer, a shot glass in one hand, and a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey in the other.
"I said mud," he repeated, and took a drink. It was warm, and went down bitter. "Ugh," he gagged, as he sat the empty beer glass down on the counter.
The bartender leaned in to refill, but Marcus waved her off. "No thanks," he told her. "I've had more than I should. Anyway, I just got back from Forcas Prime, and do you know the whole planet is just this giant ball of mud. I'm not sure how it happened, but it turns out mud is good business."
"Well," he continued, "my Captain, er... former Captain, had us load 5000 tonnes of mud onto the ship. No anti-gravs, no transporters, just cargo shuttles and shovels. Everyone was covered in mud from their heads to their heels."
"Sounds awful," the bartender opined as she poured herself a drink.
"Oh, it was," Marcus agreed. "I would have been angry about it except we were getting paid well. Well, that was, until the Captain was caught with the Prime Regent's husband."
A raised eyebrow was all that came from the bartender as she listened in silence.
"Do you know what the penalty is for infidelity on Forcas Prime?"
She shook her head.
He leaned back on his stool, and tapped the counter top. "Death."
The bartender smiled knowingly. "Ah, I see. Former Captain, then."
Marcus nodded. "Right so."
The bartender placed a shot glass on the counter and poured two fingers of Scotch whiskey, sliding it to Marcus.
"I can't pay for this," he said.
The bartender just shrugged. "It's on me. You've had a hard day."
Marcus nodded to her, and knocked back the drink, slamming the shot glass on the counter. The whiskey burned, but unlike the beer, it was a pleasant burn, a tingling that he could feel all the way down into his toes.
Finally, he slid the glass back to the bartender, and started to stand. "Well, I should be off. What do I owe you?"
John's RP Account
Posted: May 17 2018, 10:23 PM
"The drink's on me, if you're willing to listen to me for five minutes."
Freya stood in the doorway.
"Alone," she added as she walked the rest of the way into the bar and dropped a handful of credit chits on the counter. The bartender smiled, scooped up the currency, and was off to the other end of the bar, picking up an old broom along the way.
Taloman looked at her as she sat next to him.
"Sit down," she said, motioning towards the stool.
Marcus sat back down and gave her an annoyed glance. "I appreciate the charity, but what is it you could possibly want from me?" he asked.
"First, let me introduce myself. I'm Freya Bolivar, Captain of the courier vessel Hermes."
"A courier ship? What does a modern spacefaring society need with a courier ship?" he asked her. "Courier ships fell out of popular use once subspace communication became common among the Federation's core worlds. In fact, the only couriers I know of that are still in operation are... who do you work for, Captain Bolivar?" he asked her, suspicion tinged his voice.
Freya smiled. She was hoping he would ask this question earliest on, when she had time to work him over. Now to see if he would stay after the initial shock.
"We work for the Orion Syndicate," she stated matter-of-factly.
Posted: May 20 2018, 12:01 AM
Marcus nearly jumped right off the stool. The Orion Syndicate?
"Woah," he said as he stood. "I'm sorry, but I don't deal with the Orion Syndicate. They're slave traders, murderers, cutthroats, thieves, and gods knows what else!"
He began to leave, but Freya grabbed his sleeve. "Hold on, cowboy, I said we work for the syndicate, not that we're a part of them."
Marcus snorted. "As if there's a difference?" he replied.
Freya seemed to take his riposte in stride. "We deliver what they want when they want it, and they pay us. We don't ask questions, we don't get involved. So yes, it is different."
Marcus frowned. "Not getting involved doesn't help matters."
"And why not?" Freya asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Because even if you're not getting directly involved, you're still working with them and that makes you part and parcel to the heinous crimes they commit."
John's RP Account
Posted: May 21 2018, 06:37 PM
Freya rolled her eyes. "Listen Starfleet, just because you work with someone doesn't mean you support their goals. Some of us have to find ways to eat, and morals can get in the way of that."
"Maybe you can't eat, but at least you could sleep at night," he retorted.
She snorted. "I sleep just fine, and I get to eat. Sounds win/win to me. I mean, look at you," she said, motioning in his direction, "you're sitting on a bar stool all alone, nowhere to go, and you can't even pay your tab."
"What makes you think I have nowhere to go?" he asked her.
She laughed. "Are you serious? Everyone in this sector knows who you are, and why you're here. How do you think I tracked you down?"
This post has been edited by Freya: May 21 2018, 06:38 PM
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