[b]'Diamond in the Rough' Bar
NPDRE-Occupied District
North Nui Awa
March 26th, 3030[/b]


[color=FFE4C4]"...and that's when I say to him, I say, 'look, motherfucker, you quit reaching into your pocket or I'm gonna blow your fuckin' head off!' Got my TK right in this asshole's face, and he just keeps nodding, going 'yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh,'"[/color] the half-drunk Espian Guardsman, a captain by the rank on his fatigues, continued, [color=FFE4C4]"half the platoon is shouting at me to just drop this guy before he pulls a gun on us. His wife is screamin', his kids are crying, but I stay cool as a fuckin' cucumber, just keep my rifle trained right on him. Finally, his wife pulls the guy's hand out of his pocket for him, and you know what he had?"[/color]

[color=SeaGreen]"I can't imagine,"[/color] the dark-skinned, green-haired young woman at the bar humored him, not even making an effort to maintain interest.

[color=FFE4C4]"His fuckin' papers,"[/color] the captain chuckled. [color=FFE4C4]"Stupid fuckin' refugee had no idea how close he was to gettin' blown away..."[/color]

While the young man laughed at the expense of some poor family he and his platoon had terrorized that day, the woman had to make a concerted effort not to roll her eyes.

More than once, the girl who operated under the codename 'Stiletto' had compared her line of work to fishing, or perhaps like an ancient Terran prospector panning for gold. It took a tremendous deal of patience, casting out her line and waiting for hours for any kind of bite, sifting through the worthless flotsam and jetsam in the hope of seeing that sparkle of gold flake among the grit and the mud. She had trained for years to pick up on subtle cues, so parse out useful information in even the most inane of conversation. One never knew when some bit of idle gossip could lead to invaluable intel.

Tonight, however, had been painfully dull.

Ever since the stranger had come in a few nights ago, who had caught onto her use of Spacers' Cant, Stiletto knew she was onto something. The girl was clearly by herself, looking for someone. She'd left graffiti on the side of the wall when she left, and while Stiletto couldn't decipher it to save her life-- a fact that annoyed both herself and her superiors to no end-- she could tell it was a code of some sort. The only reason someone would leave coded messages was in the hopes someone else would see it.

Couple that with how she'd reacted when Stiletto brought up Battlemechs, and the conclusion was an interesting, not to mention potentially extremely valuable. Despite what the propaganda reels from Malenkov and his stooges told the public, Gawain's Green Knights were still very much alive, and likely operating in the area.

[color=FFE4C4]"So whaddya say we get out of here and I'll show you the officers' quarters?"[/color] the soldier said as he blatantly copped a feel, his uniform and gun giving him a sense of invulnerability to get away with whatever he wanted.

[color=SeaGreen]"Mmmm, can't wait,"[/color] Stiletto purred outwardly, while internally squirming from this little creep. [color=SeaGreen]"Just one more drink before we go."[/color]

[color=FFE4C4]"You got it, babe,"[/color] the captain nodded with a triumphant smile, then shouted at the barman. [color=FFE4C4]"Two drinks over here! A Timbiqui Dark for me, and-- hey, babe, whaddya want?"[/color]

Stiletto ignored the captain pawing at him, and said directly to the bartender [color=SeaGreen]"A Naranji Fizz, Canopian-style."[/color]

With a knowing grin, the bartender the bartender nodded, and poured the two their drinks. Stiletto humored the captain a while longer, reciprocating his advances as if she too couldn't wait to get somewhere private.

The captain was so engrossed with this that he never noticed her hands rifling through his pockets.

Nor did he notice the sleight of hand as the barman slipped a small white capsule into his drink.

When the bartender slid him their drinks, Stiletto raised her cocktail, a fluorescent purple concoction that crackled like someone had put a million volts through it, in a toast.

[color=SeaGreen]"Here's to an interesting evening,"[/color] she said, downing a mouthful. Naranji were sharply tart, acidic fruit that most people couldn't handle without making a face, and when paired with peach schnapps and Canopian citrus liqueur, made for a drink that kicked hard before even getting to the alcohol. Stiletto downed it as if it were tap water.

[color=FFE4C4]"Fuck yeah,"[/color] the captain said before pounding down his bottle, not even bothering to savor the complexity of the expensive Timbiqui beer. He had no time to sip and sample hints of oranges or notes of chocolate or any of that shit; he was about to score with the hottest girl he had ever--


[i]THUD![/i]


Laughter rose from the other soldiers in the bar as the captain's head hit the bar. As far as any of them knew, he was another puffed-up officer who couldn't handle his beer. The barracks would be alive with stories the next day about how the captain got trashed and blacked out right in front of everyone.

[color=CD853F]"We got another lightweight!"[/color] the bartender shouted to the bouncer. [color=CD853F]"Let him sleep it off in the back room!"[/color]

Stiletto grinned with grim satisfaction as a barrel-chested bouncer lumbered from the front door, scooped up the unconscious captain, and carried him out towards the back of the bar. She knew there was no 'back room;' what the bartender had meant was 'take this asshole to the truck out back, drop him off in an alley a couple of blocks up the road, and let the scavengers deal with him.'

[color=CD853F]"Cash or card for the drinks, Miss?"[/color] the bartender asked Stiletto, who was perusing the contents of the captain's wallet.

[color=SeaGreen]"Looks like card,"[/color] she said. [color=SeaGreen]"Put everyone's tab tonight on Captain....Brendan Yang."[/color]

As the bartender took the unfortunate captain's card and began ringing up every drink for the rest of the night on his name, Stiletto turned to the front door and saw two figures enter.

Two women, out-of-towners by the look of them. Judging by their clothes they were trying to pass themselves off as refugees; one of them might have escaped her notice if she hadn't been on the lookout since the first stranger had come through, but the other held herself like she was an alien who had only now just heard of the concept of 'acting casual.'

Stiletto made an effort to conceal her excitement. Maybe they'd read the graffiti outside, maybe they were friends of the stranger from the other night. If so, they might be able to lead her to the Green Knights, and from there her superiors could--

....[i]calm down,[/i] she caught herself. [i]You came on too strong with the last one, and you ended up scaring her off before you could learn anything useful. Play it cool. Let them find you first.[/i]

With a deep breath to collect herself, she sat back down at the bar, turning slightly towards them, and angling her body against the lights of the bar just enough that the light glinted off the stiletto she wore on her necklace.

[i]Cast your line out enough,[/i] she thought, [i]and eventually something will take the bait.[/i]