Anders McNamara
"You really gonna do this, Anders?" Septimo asked.
Anders toyed with his mostly-empty mug of beer, and glanced around before answering. The bar-maid was nowhere in sight, which didn't really surprise him -- his funds were getting low, and the girls in this place tended to pay more attention to the big spenders. ~Not that I can really blame them,~ he thought to himself. ~They gotta save up enough money to get off this rock, an' space-fares ain't cheap these days.~
After a moment, he nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I'm leavin'," he said. "My contract-time is finished, an' I can't see re-upping for another term on this place."
Lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure that none of the Security goons were listening in, he added "Way too many 'accidents' on this rock. Workin' conditions . . . hell, it just ain't safe. If the danger-pay matched up with the risk, I might consider it. But you known damn well that it don't."
Septimo nodded his understanding, and downed the last of his beer. "So . . . you're going. How are you gonna do it? You got a space-fare saved up?"
Anders grunted. "You know good an' well I don't. Only way off is a workin' job."
After a short pause, he added "I hear the Novensiles is takin' on crew. I just might wander over an' talk to Vis-Ion about a job on her."
Septimo gave Anders a hard look. "Word is, something is not quite right there. Vis-Ion's not saying what she's transporting in her hold, but they're paying above scale for crew. I've known several of the guys who thought about it, and decided not to ship out on her."
"Above scale, you say? I think that you just made up my mind for me. Thanks, pal," Anders said, grinning broadly as he rose to his feet and left enough on the table to pay for his drink and tip the bar-maid.
"Be careful, Anders," Septimo called after him.
Anders gave a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder as he weaved his way between other tables crammed tightly into the bar, heading for the door . . .
Anders McNamara is a Human of mixed Scandinavian and Scottish ancestry (to the extent that anyone cares about such old Earth-related matters these days).
It would not take too much imagination to see him crewing a Norse long-ship centuries ago, for he is a tall, strapping man who wears his blond hair long. He also has eyes of blue, and wears a golden earring in his left ear.
In-game, his spoken words will be written in blue, and his unspoken thoughts in gray and italics (it will show up lots better in-game, where the background is not gray), offset by tildes (~) instead of quotation marks (subject to The Seed's approval).
Anders toyed with his mostly-empty mug of beer, and glanced around before answering. The bar-maid was nowhere in sight, which didn't really surprise him -- his funds were getting low, and the girls in this place tended to pay more attention to the big spenders. ~Not that I can really blame them,~ he thought to himself. ~They gotta save up enough money to get off this rock, an' space-fares ain't cheap these days.~
After a moment, he nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I'm leavin'," he said. "My contract-time is finished, an' I can't see re-upping for another term on this place."
Lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure that none of the Security goons were listening in, he added "Way too many 'accidents' on this rock. Workin' conditions . . . hell, it just ain't safe. If the danger-pay matched up with the risk, I might consider it. But you known damn well that it don't."
Septimo nodded his understanding, and downed the last of his beer. "So . . . you're going. How are you gonna do it? You got a space-fare saved up?"
Anders grunted. "You know good an' well I don't. Only way off is a workin' job."
After a short pause, he added "I hear the Novensiles is takin' on crew. I just might wander over an' talk to Vis-Ion about a job on her."
Septimo gave Anders a hard look. "Word is, something is not quite right there. Vis-Ion's not saying what she's transporting in her hold, but they're paying above scale for crew. I've known several of the guys who thought about it, and decided not to ship out on her."
"Above scale, you say? I think that you just made up my mind for me. Thanks, pal," Anders said, grinning broadly as he rose to his feet and left enough on the table to pay for his drink and tip the bar-maid.
"Be careful, Anders," Septimo called after him.
Anders gave a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder as he weaved his way between other tables crammed tightly into the bar, heading for the door . . .
Anders McNamara is a Human of mixed Scandinavian and Scottish ancestry (to the extent that anyone cares about such old Earth-related matters these days).
It would not take too much imagination to see him crewing a Norse long-ship centuries ago, for he is a tall, strapping man who wears his blond hair long. He also has eyes of blue, and wears a golden earring in his left ear.
In-game, his spoken words will be written in blue, and his unspoken thoughts in gray and italics (it will show up lots better in-game, where the background is not gray), offset by tildes (~) instead of quotation marks (subject to The Seed's approval).