Retribution: a firefly themed rp {panda&pony}

[My_Apocalypse_Pony]

Dalai sat up in her bed as a crash from downstairs awoke her from a deep sleep. As she sat in bed she heard another crash and scrambled out of bed ash thew her robe on over her nightgown and slowly walked out into the hall, her father was already there, shot gun in hand. Walking quietly over to her he kisses her forehead and turned her around "no matter what, you stay hidden, promise me." Looking back over her shoulder she gave him a worried look but nodded "I promise." Going back to her room she crawled into her closet, pushing on a piece of the back wall a small door opened and she climbed into the small opening that hid a crawl space.

As she shut the door behind her she flipped on a small lantern and snuggled into the pile of pillows. She let out a heavy sigh shaking her head at herself, 24 years old hiding in a closet from monsters like a child. Her father had always sheltered her, especially after her mother's death, it was as if she were a precious gem and he was protecting it from th evils of the world.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the bar, her father was sneaking down the stairs, when he heard voices, two man were arguing in the main room of the bar. Peaking around the corner, two large men stood behind the bar, one emptying a bottle of whiskey, the other working on the cash register. "Don't move" he barked, turning the corner, and pointing his gun at the men. "You can keep the money just leave, I don't want any trouble."

Both the men laughed, "you're in over your head old man," taking a step forward, the man drinking took a step forward and pulled out a gun, putting the bottle of whiskey on the counter. Letting out another lazy laugh he fired his gun missing by mere inches. Instinct kicked in, he had to protect his daughter, pulling the trigger he shot the robber in the gut, but before he could shoot the other man, a gun fired hitting him square in the chest.

Living on a space station such as this one, he had been shot before, which had hurt like hell, but this time he didn't feel much, just a coldness fall over his body. As the darkness closed in, the only thing he thought was he had to get back to Dalia.

Months later, Dalia was struggling to keep the bar alive after her fathers death, the only thing she was thinking about was catching the man who had killed him. It was hard to do when she was busy waiting tables, pouring drinks, and trying to keep drunk men off of her.

 

[MarxistPanda]

Cal Johnson was a Ranger that should have been washed out years ago, but the Commonwealth wasn’t in any position to make their law-men retire early, even ones with a reputation like Cal’s. The fact of the matter was that they were losing the war with the Allied Corporations, a coalition of maga-corporations that seceded from the Commonwealth years ago. They were short on ships and men, but they still had their greatest weapons. Artificial Intelligence cores that the AC couldn’t even help to get close to in complexity, and the queen bee of all AI’s protecting the Commonwealth's secrets. Still, it was all just a battle of attrition. Cal was just along for the ride. He was a law-man now, so his battlefield was within Commonwealth border space. Six years as a pilot in the Navy left him with a cybernetic arm and a whole lot of nightmares, but it also shaped him into one of the finest pilots in the cluster, and knowing that he should have died a frigid death in the vacuum of space, Cal took chances other men wouldn’t take. His superiors hated him for it, but he got results where other Rangers didn’t.

He had been forced to find a new deputy so he came to the Ritz, the shadiest outlaw station in the whole of known space. The station itself was a sovereign entity so he had no jurisdiction here, but everyone that knew he was a law-man also knew better than to bother him. He’d been to nearly every dive on the station (the ones he could stomach being in) and hadn’t found anyone he’d ever give a badge and a gun. He liked scouting at places like the Ritz. Anyone with half a soul left would stand out like a sore thumb. Besides, anyone that survives the Ritz with their dignity left has to have a whole lot more fire and guts than any snot-nosed punk raised on a Commonwealth core planet. Station life was hell, especially on an outlaw station. If you weren’t a prostitute, you were a pimp or a gang member or a drug dealer. Or you were a pirate, you mustn't forget them. Before the AC the Commonwealth actively hunted pirates. Now, they are much friendlier providing they pillage and plunder the right ships.

Cal was a tall man, thin but built like fighter. His black stetson made him seem even taller. It was an old thing, you could tell that it had seen many days. Under the hat he had dark brown hair with a slight hint of gray that was also present in the stubble that lined the strong features of his face. Cal was only pushing thirty but the gray was a sign of the life he lived. He wore well fitted jeans with a dark gray shirt bloused into them, and thin black tie. He had a long-coat on the back of his stool (it was too damn hot to wear it) so everyone in the bar could see the leather shoulder holster and the pistol he had tucked into it.

“Can I have a bourbon on the rocks, darling?” he asked the Bartender, giving her a look over. He had an archaic accent that actually made him calling her darling sound proper rather than the typical sexual context she surely heard all the time.

From what he could tell she was the best candidate he’d seen since he docked. She looked miserable, and had a look of disgust in her eyes at every person she looked at. She wanted out, he could tell. She reminded him of a tigress, caged and forgotten.