Monday, March 7, 2011

Grizzly-Bar - Part 1.

“By the Tribes!” Grizzly cursed. He knew it, every time Ace was left alone for five minutes he always got himself into trouble, worse if a deck of cards were within reach. And be the looks of things, he had been hard at work digging himself a fine mess this time. “That pea-brained ConFed.”

While Ace was proud of having served with the Confederated Commonwealth, Grizzly still wore the insignia of a Federated Union Marine. His massive chrome arms proudly bore the etched mark of a Combat Medic of the 101st Drop-squad; Marines specially trained for orbital drops. Numerous battle scars and obvious cybernetic arms were clear marks this veteran seen more than his share of fighting, and survived.

Grizzly stooped to enter the bar for a better assessment of his friends current predicament. Apparently the station’s architect had not considered an 8’ 2” Ursian when designing it. A bad feeling tickled at his blackened fur, “Oh don’t do it Ace,” he whispered. With a sigh of regret he heard what could only be the shift of a bad situation made worse when Ace mentioned Grizzly’s temper. Most Ursians were in fact quite renowned for virtually without anger, but Grizzly had seen more than enough of war to shake even his calm demeanor. If Ace was warning them, then clearly he was sure his crew-mate knew that inevitably they were on the verge of combat.

“You couldn’t listen, could you, Ace?” Grizzly stepped over to stand by Ace, his presence making the gambling nomad seem more like a hat clad child. “You know you have a problem, right?”

“Apologies, Griz,” Ace replied. “But you know I can’t turn down an  invitation for a friendly game. Besides, no problem we can’t solve, right ol’ buddy?” Carefully Ace took his gun off Enzo and started to turn to leave, confident now was the opportune moment for an exit.

Unfortunately, the bartender and Enzo both saw it instead as an opportune moment to try and shoot Ace in the back. Grizzly’s fur stood, bristling as a low growl start to rise from the bear-like ex-marine. A pair of concave discs made of humming force were projected from his wrists. Bar patron stood dumbfounded as somehow the titanic marine had managed to not only detect the assault on his crew-mate but deflect it as well.

Grizzly snapped from behind the translucent walls of green force, still crackling from the impacts. “You would shoot a man in the back? Cowards!” Anger begin to rise in the Ursian, and Ace knew well enough to start to duck, like a turtle seeking the safety of his shell.

Enzo spat at Grizzly, his bravado bolstered by others having joined in his recent attack. “Who are you to call us coward? Your just the offspring of some bestial harlot! We ought to put you down and take our money back from your friend.”

A single blast brought attention back on Ace, now his back pressed to the wall, as a wall terminal smoked and popped. “I warned you.” Ace said in a hushed tone, pity written on his face. “Now it’s just you and him,” Ace pointed at the destroyed terminal. “Cause I don’t think any station security will be responding anytime soon. “

A mighty roar bellowed from Grizzly as his shields of flickering force were extinguished. “Won’t be needing those.”

Ace lowered his head and whispered to himself; “They never listen…”