5436/Half off!

Half off!
Date of Scene:	04 March 2021
Location:	Ch't Station
Synopsis:	Kelley and Blackjack do a little shopping.
Cast of Characters:	Blackjack O'Hare, Carrie Kelley

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Blackjack O'Hare has posed:
    The great yawning gulf of the universe is absolutely full of, people trying to make a buck believe it or not. The drive for profit seems near universal considering how many trading posts the Gambler's maps contain, and Ch't Station is an excellent example of what most of these little trading posts are likely. The moment the airlocks cycle the smell is distinctly, wet dog and fresh cut grass perhaps? The dingy passageways are jammed tight from the airlock forward with little stalls manned by a veritable cornicopia of vendors hawking their wares. From jewelry to, maybe that's supposed to be food?

    This place apparently had a pretty good military surplus place, so always worth a visit in the neighborhood. Speaking of everyone's favorite hare, he casually tugs his jacket down and waits for the airlock to cycle completely before stepping out onto the deck with a dull metallic clack of those metallic feet. "Come now Miss Kelley, if we're quick about our business we'll be able to get some lunch and still make good time back aboard. Not the sort've place you want to spend too long, smell the chlorophyll in the air?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Space is still pretty awesome to Carrie. Pretty much every moment she's been on the ship when she hasn't been working, has been spent curled up somewhere she could get a peek outside. She's dressed in a dark hoodie -- with a red bat symbol on the upper chest -- and a pair of leggings. The girl streeeetches out on the artificial gravity for a moment, "Man...I need to go for a run soon.." and then she takes a deep breath of dog and cut grass air.

"Yeah...I do smell it. Smells nice. Reminds me of home....what's wrong with it though? Breathing it in gonna turn me into a mutant?" she asks, warily. Clearly she's not used to all of the dangers of space yet. She follows along in Blackjack's wake.

Blackjack O'Hare has posed:
    "It's an emergency air scrubber, the fact you can smell it at all is a bad sign. So if you start to get light headed just let me know, alright?"Blackjack at least seems to be known here, which has the lovely benefit of parting the thin crowd as he walks. "They'll have a tailor fabber here at least, so we can get you a jacket and helmet. Once people know who you're with, you shouldn't have any problems. You're attached to a Mercenary outfit and out of uniform though, local security at least can throw their weight around and make a headache if they want to."

    And well there it is, The storefront doesn't have a fancy glass to show off it's wares. Instead it's simply got a mountain of scratched out bounty pages tacked across the front of the store and a pair of burly mechanical guards watching the front door. Inside theres mountains of, well surplus military junk. From bits of alien armor, racks of stangely shaped swords and uniform bits. A decidedly preying mantis looking chap behind the counter gives a lift of an arm and a screech, which Blackjack casually returns.

    "Pleasant fellow, always has a good supply of fresh stuff to pour over. We'll snag some of your basic kit here if they've got it, poor fella needs the cred to get out of this shithole for certain."Theres a glance back over the shoulder as he heads towards the racks of rifles in the back. "I'd have loved to visit the markets on Earth you know, even if I don't buy anything it's always sort've fun to look around and see what's for sale."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"Chinatown is open whenever you want," Carrie replies to that last comment as she steps into the alien arms merchant's shop. She hasn't gotten paid yet, but she's checking out some of the higher end gear. The girl sewed her own Robin costume by hand to catch Bruce Wayne's attention, and modified it after he took her in to have some armor. She's not unfamiliar with some of the items on display, just the physiology required to use some of them.

As they walk through the store she picks up a couple of throwing knives, well balanced and pretty looking, and starts to twirl one in her hand absentmindedly, as she moves over to rifles, "I'd prefer something a bit...shorter. Like, rifles are cool and all and pack a punch but, we're not getting into a lot of long range gunfights, are we?" she asks, "Most the time when I'm forced to mix it up, it's pretty close combat. Rifle is sort of unwieldly for that sort of thing."

Blackjack O'Hare has posed:
    "Oh sure, I was thinking we'd get you something easy to use. You're not built to take recoil like I am, and you've never had a laser weapon of your own. You just don't want to get yourself into a situation where you can get outranged, because then you don't always have a lot of cover to make use of."And down towards the end, in a barrel stuffed full of alien weaponry Blackjack digs. "I mean when I first started that was all I could use, and well there isn't much of me left really. I made all the mistakes, so you don't have to. "And a pause as he pulls, well it looks like it's been made of metal stampings and despite being somewhat swoopy and futuristic theres a series of holes punched in the back which is likely how the rifle ended up surplus.

    Blackjack lifts the thing above his head, "Hey Any more of these Agots in the back? I'd pay a little extra if you've got 81 Fabkit hanging around, I mean we need to get some more gear for my troop here so we can work out a deal you know?"Offering the battered thing over towards, well lets call him the bug-guy who accepts it for study before nodding a few times and slipping away into the back. "Agots are what most of us started with, flexible and configurable. I kept mine for ages until it was shot out of my hands on Ismar, cut me nearly in half. Otherwise I'd still be lugging one around, should suit you, which reminds me you liked blades and stuff right?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The gun is given a look, and Carrie asks, "Can I cut it down and make it like one of those old Sten machine guns? Stick it under my coat and only pull it out when needed sort of thing?" She seems blissfully unaware that Blackjack probably doesn't know what a Sten looks like. She nods to the other question, and then flips the knife she's twirling up in the air letting it spin for a couple of moments before she catches it on the handle. She's clearly done this before, "Yeah, all our Bat equipment was meant to be non-lethal, but stuff usually had blades and points for various uses like cutting rope or whatever. But...the way we trained for batarangs and the like was to use throwing knives at first" -- the responsible choice of course -- "to get used to the general throwing mechanics."

"I got a combat knife, about two dozen batarangs, a set of steel practice knives, but...these are lighter and feel like you could still get some real force behind them, y'know? Probably some neat space metal," Carrie says as she looks down at them, "Could be useful in a pinch."

Blackjack O'Hare has posed:
    "Well then we'll throw those in, no problems there."Blackjack offers a shrug "I don't really understand the nonlethal part, but thats Earth for you."Leading on somewhat aimlessly, before snagging a pair of what look like hockey pucks off one shelf. "You can not cut it down, you'll be thankful for the power when you need it. Agot's are rapid pulse lasers, or at least the 81s are. On a full battery they'll claw their way through just about anything, but reducing the distance between lenses decreases pin point power and reduces range. There are straight plasma arc options, but like I said we want to get you something basic so you don't blow your hand off and end up wearing chrome like your handsome Commander."

    Mr Bug dude returns with a neat, well it looks sort've like a pair of lunch boxes. Theres some screeching on his side, before Blackjack holds up the pucks and thumbs towards Carrie. More screeching, until Blackjack lifts a credit chip from his pocket. "And a pair of Power units for the Argot, and a box of RB grenades, and a Jump pack...and you deliver it all to my ship...Oh and those knives my First officer here picked up."Theres a moment of silence, before the transaction is handled with a toss of the credits over.

    "Now if you don't like the Agot we'll go looking for something difference once you've got a little trigger time, but trust your commander here yeah?"Blackjack smirks, offering a gloved paw. "Oh and hows about Lunch, you still hungry?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley is now juggling the knives idly as the transaction takes place. Hey, you fight the Joker, Riddler, Harley Quinn, and the rest of the circus side shows that she has and not pick up some circus-like behavior. She catches the knives, and slips them into a pocket of her hoodie as the transaction finishes, and then shrugs, "I mean, yeah, sure, but...like that thing is hard to hide. You take that somewhere and people are gonna know you're coming. It's way harder to get into costume when you've gotta lug that around..." She may be living in space, but clearly she's missing some of the...realities of life up here.

She follows Blackjack out of the store and explains, "I mean, yeah, I get it, the no killing thing is weird. Especially when you're talking about the Joker, or Riddler, people who've killed hundreds of people for no real reason...we shouldn't be worried about if they live or die. But, Batman was rather insistent on it. He didn't want us to," and here she takes on a gravelly tone as she impersonates the Batman, "sink to the level of criminals." And then she shrugs, "I mean, it's a good idea. The people he fought against aren't mentally well. They need help...but...they're not really reformable I don't think." The mention of lunch gets a nod, "Sure, let's see what weird thing I can eat today."

Blackjack O'Hare has posed:
    "Why are we hiding our arms? Mercenary work is legal, there are rules of course but we operate strictly within the bounds of the law. We have a uniform, we have arms and force of law on our side if we're on contract."Reaching back to tap-tap the stock of that engraved bullpup strapped on his back. "We may use stealth against our foes, but often enough we want them to see us. Wouldn't you rather madmen shoot at you than innocent civilians trying to get by? The trick isn't in being a ghost, hell we've got species who are intangible and invisible out there. It's not being invincible either, and Kryptonians don't have the market on that either. The Bunnies aren't the best because we're the sneakiest or the strongest, we're the best because we think on our feet and we fight harder."

    "We need to be seen, because nobody is gonna hire us if they don't know who we are. You don't get enough contracts to pay the bills, and you end up having to work for the sort've people you'd rather shoot. No good person hides in the shadows, not out here. Trust me we don't wear the chromite helmets just for the protection, you know?"He leads on into a food court sort've area judging by the smells and the food stalls crammed everywhere there isn't a table. "You wanna go find something yourself, or you want me to order for you?"Though he does offer a credit chip never the less.