“Slip complete; we’re good to go!” I yell. hopefully this planet won’t be as much of a drag as the scanners are picking up. We just slipped into low orbit, and we’ll soon be docking at an industrial trans depot. We’re not transporting anything, but we have directions to park it here if we’re going to park anywhere in between the job completion and payment. The last clear was a small job relatively speaking and none of us are overly zealous to get paid for it. A night to relax before having to interact with the uptight corp accountants is a higher priority right now.
“Hey! What do you guys think about the seafood place in Gestoue? Last guy to upload from there came away pretty happy with the food,” Cicero asks from back in the sleeping quarters.
Liam and Juno look at each other and both seem to agree.
“Sounds good to us up here!” Juno yells back at Cicero. I’m not feeling food tonight, it’s a bit too late for me, time reads 22:00 standard time.
I lean over and tell Juno: “I’m going to the Overground club, it’s right down the street from that place you guys are heading. I’m just not in the mood for food. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sounds good to me, just don’t get too hammered wherever you’re going. I know we’re on break right now, but you still have to get back here tonight.” Juno says, giving me a quick smile.
“Don’t worry about me. I always find my way home,” I say, rolling my eyes. Juno’s one to talk, she’s the worst of the four of us. Always quick tempered and getting into fights wherever we go.
Star Fury, our ship, slows to allow docking equipment to deploy, it won’t be but a few more minutes and we’ll all be on a transport to Gestoue.
“Alright, here we go,” I say, standing up and walking to the exit hatch. I grab a sidearm and strap it opposite the sword hilt. I connect to global comms and net, not a whole lot going on here on Huyto at first glance. Everyone else follows my lead, Cicero putting on some pants and shoes on the way out. As soon as we step through the semi-solid curtain of the hatch, the terrible smell of rotting fish overtakes us. Apparently, that is a staple for this trans depot, wonderful.
“Oh shit man, that’s awful, let’s get out of here before I can’t eat seafood later.” Cicero says as he makes a face as if to puke.
“There’s the transport over there,” I say, pointing to a grey and simple looking transport lift. We all head over and get into the lift, the fare is covered by the depot, apparently the workers use it complementary. We all sit, and the lift jets off in the direction of the city. The lift sets down around a block from the restaurant, on the side away from the Overground. We all get out and I walk with them to the restaurant. “Alright, I’ll see you all later tonight or in the morning, we won’t be leaving tonight so don’t worry about getting back any time soon.” They all nod and acknowledge.
“We’re all on comms if you need us. See ya,” says Liam.
I continue on my walk to the Overground. Everything is grey concrete and earth tones; the streets drain water into the chasm between the city’s lift and the ocean. The streets are littered with homeless addicts stewing in their own filth, making me glad that I’m armed, some of them look desperate enough to try something if I were an easy target. I arrive at the Overground and am greeted by some of the first color I’ve seen thus far. Pink and cyan neon lights line the building’s exterior with “The Overground” highlighted in pink above the front entrance. There’s no one outside, just opaque double sliding doors. I walk to the entrance; the doors open only when I get uncomfortably close, I’d say just over a foot away from them. Inside is a small room, the walls are covered with blue sequins about an inch in diameter. There’s a front desk straight ahead and the entrance to the rest of the club is to the left. Bouncers stand on each side of the entrance. Now I can see that there’s quite a few people here, probably a few hundred, split between the upper and lower floors.
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“Excuse me, I need you to send over some ID. Also, the entry fee is 100 standard, which you will need to send after we approve your ID,” says the girl at the front desk. There’s a thick transparent barrier between her and me. She seems tired of dealing with people’s shit, which is unfortunate because the club only opened twenty minutes ago, so I’m assuming that there will be plenty more for her to deal with before the night is over.
“Alright, ID is sent, along with the 100 standard,” I say.
“Yes, your ID checks out, thank you for waiting to send the credit. Go ahead and talk to security about your gun there,” she says while rolling her eyes.
I turn to the two bouncers; they ask for the sidearm to be stowed for my stay at the club. I oblige and tell them to send me the liability acceptance for the sword. They send it over and I sign it with an alias signature. After that, they tell me everything’s good and I walk in.
Upon walking through the inside entrance, I can see that the club is separated into a few sections. There’s a full bar along the left wall as you walk in, and on the right there’s a dance floor surrounded by private tables against the wall. The second floor has several lounges with inlayed seating overlooking the first floor. Behind the lounges there is another open floor and seating in front of a stage for professional dancers. There also looks to be one-way glass along the far wall and back wall for either private rooms or offices. The stairs to the upper floor are on the far wall.
I walk to the counter and sit down. I order a strong drink, then another, then another. I turn around and watch the people dancing on the lower floor. I can’t quite make out the features of the professionals in the back of the second floor.
A girl walks over to the bar and sits down next to me. She’s pretty and she was looking at me her whole walk over, but it’s not a look that could be confused for sexual interest, she is on a mission, and that is mildly concerning. She’s wearing black skintight pants, with a dark red crop-top and a thin dark colored jacket. She doesn’t waste any time, straight to the point.
“If you or whoever you are flying with are in a position of authority on the slip spacecraft Star Fury, I will pay you for passage to wherever you are heading. I am willing to pay any asking price,” she says, and she is dead serious, no playfulness, no doubt as to the name of my spacecraft and no doubt as to whether she could afford whatever the asking price may be. This, I will admit, is not something that I was expecting, nor is it something that I have the capacity to handle right now. The alcohol from what I had to drink is kicking in particularly strong and I am not in the mood to take on any extra passengers. The alcohol is kicking in a little too strong now that I think about it, I only had three. All this is no doubt showing plainly on my face and she apparently understands my mindset because she immediately relaxes and turns to the side to look out into the crowd.
“Excuse me, where are my manners, how about we talk for a minute first,” she says as she smiles. Suddenly, I feel this pull towards her, a strong physical attraction that I have never felt so strongly for a woman, it is as if everything about her seems far more attractive than it did mere moments ago. “Aren’t they all so funny, all those people dancing over there, when before they got here, they all were probably glum and sick of their lives here in this wet, miserable city?” She says, and I swear it’s hard to take my eyes off her.
“I, um, yeah, I guess so. I’m just passing through here. I’m glad I’m don’t live here. I uh…” I, hmm, I am not feeling so great. There is definitely something wrong.
“Hey, you don’t look so good Gabriel. Hey! Look! listen to me, you need to call the rest of your team here now, you need help,” she says, she looks genuinely concerned, I wonder if she really cares about me. Oh, comms, my team.
‘Liam, something is wrong with me I need help ASAP, I’m at the bar at Overground’ “On the way” I say, I’m starting to lose feeling and my vision is…