Galactic Problems

In a galaxy not far from Earth

In the Middle of the great asteroid field.

Their sits a Tavern, know as the Old Waypoint.

And in this Tavern, know for its thieves, murderers and hijackers, this story begins.

A tall figure walked into the Old Waypoint, hoping to make a deal. He wore semi-armor black pants, and carbon steel black boots. A thick belt with knife and pistol held his pants up. His chest was covered by a semi-laser-proof vest which was topped by a dark coat with multiply pockets. His black hair looked like it needed a good combing and his eyes were covered with sunglasses. The figure walked over to the dirty bar and approached the bartender.

“Hey Volt, what can I do for you.” The bartender said in a deep voice.

“I got some stuff to sell,” Came the answerer “you want it?”

“Well, depends, what is it.”

“Thirty-five pounds of D9 Explosives, twenty R9Plasma disks, and seventy boxes of blaster ammunition.” The bartender stared at Volt with a blank expression before answering.“Yeah, I know a fella who needs some of this. Give it to me for 50,000 GC's.”

“Hmm, 50,000. Do you even know what I had to do to get this stuff!” Volt raised his tone as he replied. “Easy man, easy. These aren’t normal GC's, their unmarked.” There was a slight pause.

“You should have said that earlier. Deal!”  Volt raised his gloved hand and shook with the bartender. “All right, I'll go get your money. It's in the back so it might take me a couple of minutes.”

“OK, but be quick about it, I cant hang out with all these thieves for too long.”

“Ha ha, like your any better than them.” And with that the bartender went out the back door, leaving Volt in the lounge. Volt took a seat in an old red leather chair, and listened to the music and people talking. A large man sat on the seat across from Volt, wearing a long black cloak.

“Hey you!” he said in a deep voice, “How much for your pistol, its a P40, right?”

“Sorry, not for sale.” Volt quickly replied so as to not prolong the conversation.

“Well” He said rising from his chair “How about a trade?” Volt looked up.

“What kind of trade?” He asked, now interested.

“The kind where me and my boys don't kill you if you if you give me what I want.” Volt stood up slowly, looking around.

“I don’t see any of you buddies.” Volt said in a mocking tone.  The clocked figure raised he hand and snapped his large fingers which seemed to be covered in blood. Instantly two figures wearing similar clocks came to he side.

“So, give me the pistol.” He said in a orderly tone. Volt thought quickly. He knew he could take down the two 'sidekicks' but all three, at once, would be a very different story. Volt quickly put his hand over his P40 that was attached to his thick belt, drew the weapon, and pointed at the leaders head, which was still covered in the clock.

“Get out of here now or I'll blast your leaders head!” Volt yelled to the two figures behind. They looked at each other and stepped backwards, than in a low tone one of them said “Want us to leave boss?” Just as he was about to answer. A thin ragged man (probably a drifter) entered the room yelling “Run! The cops are coming!”

Their was a slight pause as everyone in the tavern processed this news and then, in an instant the tavern quickly became a circus, with people running in every direction for the nearest exit. In the heat of the moment the clocked figure grabbed Volt's gun, and tried to yank it out of his hands. Volt responded by using his free hand to strike the figure where its face should have been. Instead it hit something that felt like titanium. The figure took the opportunity to raise his other hand and punch Volt in the jaw. Pain shot through Volt's body and he stepped backwards. He still had his weapon and he pulled the trigger. The P40 quickly produced a few green energy bolts, two of the pure plasma bolts hit the clocked figure and he let out a scream of pain. Volt didn't look back, instead he ran towards the nearest exit like everyone else. After shoving, pushing, yelling, and threatening he made it to the indoor parking lot which was crowded with people running for their spaceships. Volt sprinted for his small, but sleek, ship. After getting inside his crowded cockpit he pressed a single yellow button and all of  the small craft's lights went on. Volt started all the generators and turned on the AI. “Systems loading. Please Wait!” came the ships flat female voice. Volt pulled the steering stick up, and his ship jerked upward towards the vast universe.  Volt's ship passed the gravity shield that surrounded the tavern and parking lot and he turned on the autopilot. Volt slowly closed his eyes, a sigh escaped his lips, and with the aid of the low humming engine and the slow breeze of air which came from the mini air generators. The small, dirty cockpit became a bed.