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[wcshoe]

 The little otter seems unfazed by Bron. "I have a cell phone, you can always call me. Hyran has a communicator he left for you behind the bar, I don't know if it is still there though. And yes, you should look. And also, you should be careful. Never know when an assassin will try to take you down too. The Chaos Wolves are probably behind this."

[Bron Price]

Then your cell phone appears to be damaged because you're never around on those rare times when I DO need you.  I'll check the communicator.  ::Bron smirks::  An assassin to take out the Head of Lightfoot?  How ironic that must sound.  ::Bron motions behind the bar and finds said communicator there::.  Hyran, this is Bron, please respond, over.  ::He waits for a reply:: 

[wcshoe]

The com unit chirps, before a voice comes across. "New Aldaraan Control here. Bron... Price?"

Meanwhile, Cutthroat has pulled out his cell phone, and is dialing a number...

[Bron Price]

New Alderaan Control, this is Bron Price.  I'm looking for Hyran Starseeker.  I'd like to speak to him if he's available.  Failing that, would you know his whereabouts?

[wcshoe]

The voice comes across again. "He is not here, we are attempting to locate."

Various voices can be distantly heard in the background.
"Bron Price, the pirate?"
"I heard he was dead."
"I heard that Hyran brought him back from the dead."
"Yeah?"
"He joined the Rebel Alliance after that."
"Makes sense."

The original voice comes back over the comlink. "We have no contact. I'm transferring this call to Master Lorish, he should be able to contact him more easily for you."

The comlink buzzes once, almost angrily, before another voice answers. "Hello?"


Cutthroat continues pushing buttons, occasionaly holding the phone up to his ear.

[SigmaCaine]

Cutthroat continues pushing buttons, occasionaly holding the phone up to his ear.

The doors to the Cove are pushed open by a large robotic doberman, colored red and occasionally patterned with desert camo. Velguader sniffs, looks around, and pads over to Cutthroat. "Hello."

[wcshoe]

The little otter looks over at the MUD Critter, brightening up. "Hello Vel. You haven't seen Crafty, have you? Moosetapha hasn't been able to get hold of him either. "

He calls out to Bron. "No messages, and you didn't show up on caller ID. You sure you have the right phone number?"

[SigmaCaine]

The little otter looks over at the MUD Critter, brightening up. "Hello Vel. You haven't seen Crafty, have you? Moosetapha hasn't been able to get hold of him either. "

"Nope. But wasn't Hyran stuck in the Beacon? Can you talk to him while he's in there? He should know where Crafty is, right?" The dog looks around the Cove, taking it all in.

[Bron Price]

::Bron looks up as if asking for help and says to no one in particular:: Why am I not surprised that I don't have the right number?? 

[wcshoe]

Over the comlink, the voice asks, "Lord Price? You may have the right number, depending on your needs. This is Master Lorish. Did somebody say Hyran was in the Beacon?"

Cutthroat closes his phone, and tucks it away. "Why would Hyran be in the Beacon?"

His furry brow wrinkles in confusion. "And why would that affect my father?"

He looks up at Bron. "Right. If you need me, just give me a call. I'm going to the Beacon, this calls for investigating."

From the floor, an archway of mud rises, about five feet tall. Through the archway, the Beacon can be seen.

[Bron Price]

::Bron's face looks back down at Cutthorat::  Depending on my needs??!!   At the time, I usually NEED a bodyguard which is why I'm looking for him in the f .....  ::sigh::   Nevermind.  ::Bron ducks low to go through the portal::  I'm going with you, shortstuff. 

[wcshoe]

The voice on the other side of the comlink sounds extremely confused. "You require assistance? Do you require a Healer, or a Bodyguard? Or do you require both?"

Cutthroat brightens slightly, and the archway of MUD increases in size so Bron can easily step through. "Excellent idea. If there are assassins about, it would be best if you stayed close to your bodyguard."

[SigmaCaine]

Velguader rolsl his eyes when Cutthroat isn't looking at him, but then pads through the portal.

[Bron Price]

Bron walks through the Western style double doors and into the Cove.  He has a puzzled look on his face and scans the booths for …. something.   Bobby immediately picks his head up from what he was doing and greets the Lord of Lightfoot, “Hey Boss.  What’ll ya have”?  He then goes back to … whatever he was doing.  Bron interjects while still eyeing the booths, “Bobby, where is John Renwick”?  Bobby barely picks up his haed and points with his chin, “He’s right over there, Boss”.  Bron sounding a bit annoyed, “Where, Bobby”?  Sounding somewhat annoyed himself, Bobby looks up.  “He’s right ove …. That’s funny.  He was right there a few minutes ago.  The big guy, right”?  Bron replies with a sigh, “Yeah, him.  The big guy”.  Bron walks over to the bar, “Bobby, gimme some JD”.  Bobby reaches under the bar and Bron speaks up, “Not that stuff.  The stuff up there”, Bron points to the upper shelves behind the bartender.  “JD, Gold Label, 1904 … the good stuff”.  Bobby rolls a ladder under the shelf where the bottle lies.  He climbs up, grabs the bottle and brings it back down.  He places it in front of Bron and gets ready to open it.  Bron puts his hand over the bottle and swipes it off the bar.  He walks out through the double swinging doors and onto the conveyor belt leading out.   A third of the way down, he hops over to the other side and onto a thin track of rock hugging the side of the other belt.  He walks over to an empty alcove and places the bottle of JD on the makeshift rock shelf.  A light comes on and shines on the bottle.  Bron leans back to ponder the look.  He steps back onto the conveyor belt leading back inside the Cove.  Bobby looks up, “You polish that bottle off already”?  With a straight face, Bron looks up at Bobby, “No, it’s now a treasure in one of the alcoves.  I thought it only fitting.  John’s not coming back”.  Bron’s head bows down for a few seconds then looks up at Bobby.  “Hand me that keyboard behind the bar”.  Bobby pulls out a small keyboard and passes it to Bron.  Bron begins to furiously type for a few minutes.  He sets the keyboard on the bar and hits the ‘enter’ key.  The bar becomes filled with holographic smoke, with an old time gambling den of the late 1800s of The “Wild West” of America.  Roulette, Craps, Blackjack, people milling about but most importantly, the five tables dedicated to Poker.  A song comes over the loud speaker ..

on a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness
'til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, "son, i've made a life out of readin' people's faces,
And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
So if you don't mind my sayin', i can see you're out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey i'll give you some advice."

So i handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
Said, "if you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Now ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
'cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."
So when he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,
Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words i found an ace that i could keep.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count you r money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.


Bron softly smiles, pushes the swinging doors aside and walks on to the conveyor belt leading out.   He walks out toward the shore, turns around and looks up at the cliff faces of the Cove.  The huge holographic image of John Renwick is no longer on the left cliff face but now on the right.  He stands there shuffling a deck of cards with a poker face and a hint of a smirk.   “Transporter, beam me to my coordinates of 0601.22”.  With a transporter shimmer and blink, Bron is gone. 


John Renwick – 3rd in command of House Lightfoot, Lieutenant - leader of Bravo Squad for the Nexal Defense Squad, Gambler


OOC:  Dave Stern  R.I.P.

[Mack Ravensline]

Into the bar walks the new Lightfoot. Sitting at the bar he makes a small motion to catch the attention of the barkeep.