Serasai Onashi
Jun 19th, 2013, 07:16:46 PM
"Why did I think it would be entertaining down here?" Serasai Onashi moaned, watching as a bunch of normal looking people strode around doing normal looking colonist/survival things.
He'd thought it would be a camp, and a bunch of mystical peace-addled monks meditating and levitating shit with their minds. And impressionable and curious young female monks who would be so intrigued by his roguish good looks that he could bed a couple and then leave back to his progressively more boring post on the Novgorod. The former mercenary pondered quitting and going back to his old job before deciding to focus on what was going on around him.
Because even though it was a camp, it was much, much less interesting than he'd thought. A number of grounded ships were scattered about the landscape, with lines strewn up with clothing hanging from them between the closer ones. The "spaceport" was a patch of ground some thirty meters in diameter, and a number of barely space-worthy ships sat there as well. Around the ships some tents and huts were erected, an especially large one forming the mess hall, reminding him of a campaign he'd taken part in on some dinky planet some years back. He and three others had killed three sentries and came up on the large part of a battalion of defenders eating in a large tent. He tossed in his grenades and they set fire to fabric, killing most of them in less then twenty minutes. They got to shoot maybe fifteen as they staggered out.
His moan turned into a shout of frustration and a couple of Jedi stared at him as he stalked away.
"Boring!" he shouted at them without slowing his pace. "Very little alcohol, no whorehouses, no gambling... what kind of port is this?!"
A girl frowned at him as he slowed down and began to meander again.
"Hey, do some of that wizard Force shit," he said, merely wanting her to either entertain him or leave him alone. "No? Then turn around and leave me alone."
Today was a bust.
"Might as well head back to the shuttle," he grumbled. Maybe that flight lieutenant was willing to go another round in her bunk. Last he remembered she was still miffed that he'd lied about no one being in the bunkroom when they'd done the nasty last time, but four days was more than enough time for her to cool down now, right?
He'd thought it would be a camp, and a bunch of mystical peace-addled monks meditating and levitating shit with their minds. And impressionable and curious young female monks who would be so intrigued by his roguish good looks that he could bed a couple and then leave back to his progressively more boring post on the Novgorod. The former mercenary pondered quitting and going back to his old job before deciding to focus on what was going on around him.
Because even though it was a camp, it was much, much less interesting than he'd thought. A number of grounded ships were scattered about the landscape, with lines strewn up with clothing hanging from them between the closer ones. The "spaceport" was a patch of ground some thirty meters in diameter, and a number of barely space-worthy ships sat there as well. Around the ships some tents and huts were erected, an especially large one forming the mess hall, reminding him of a campaign he'd taken part in on some dinky planet some years back. He and three others had killed three sentries and came up on the large part of a battalion of defenders eating in a large tent. He tossed in his grenades and they set fire to fabric, killing most of them in less then twenty minutes. They got to shoot maybe fifteen as they staggered out.
His moan turned into a shout of frustration and a couple of Jedi stared at him as he stalked away.
"Boring!" he shouted at them without slowing his pace. "Very little alcohol, no whorehouses, no gambling... what kind of port is this?!"
A girl frowned at him as he slowed down and began to meander again.
"Hey, do some of that wizard Force shit," he said, merely wanting her to either entertain him or leave him alone. "No? Then turn around and leave me alone."
Today was a bust.
"Might as well head back to the shuttle," he grumbled. Maybe that flight lieutenant was willing to go another round in her bunk. Last he remembered she was still miffed that he'd lied about no one being in the bunkroom when they'd done the nasty last time, but four days was more than enough time for her to cool down now, right?