Young Writers Society

Project 100

I absorbed the scenario inside the nightclub, before referring back to my mission brief. Project 98 had sighted Mercury Narkise in this club and, like a vacuum cleaner, I would have to clean it all up. '98 said that a 'feisty' young woman by the name of 'Lola' was with Mercury near the central bar area. Naturally, I would have to ask a few questions and gather information as to why he was here. I approached the bar on the eastern wing, and took a seat. I identified the bartender as a Kaleesh, which was surprising considering their nature.

"Was that your brother who just caused that panic" he queried.

Oh, god no. "Who would that be?" I replied, acting oblivious.

"Oh, you've just stepped in... well what will it be?"

"I do not require any beverages thankyou. However, what I do seek is information; more precisely information concerning a young woman named Lola. Would you be kind as to point her out?"

Kualat

"Now, now," I said, sticking to the script, "It is against nightclub regulations to give information about the whereabouts of patrons unless a valid IdentiChip is provided."
The robot produced a wad of folding money. I nearly cried with laughter.
"And any attempts to bribe the bartender should always be reported to higher authority-" I stopped talking, unable to bear the hypocrisy in my voice. The bot seemed not to have noticed yet.
"There's a higher authority in this dump?"
Then again, perhaps it had.
A woman stirred at the other end of the bar, dead drunk. I nodded towards her.
"I can't help you outright, but there's nothing to stop me from giving a few subtle hints." On the word subtle, I nodded towards the woman again, emphasising my point. Ask around.
After a moment, the robot nodded and moved off. I sighed, and turned my attention to collecting a number of dirty glasses.

Lola-

I walked over to the guy that was asking about me. "I'm Lola," I said smiling. "And I don't know anything about what you want."

Project 100

I scanned the woman that approached me, my angular eyes fixed on her. My scanners returned the expected results, this woman was indeed the Lola '98 reported.

"And I don't know anything about what you want."

I chuckled inwardly."Then how would you know about what I want to know?" I asked, countering her logic.

She paused.

"Mercury Narkise was in this bar not too long ago, this I am fully aware. And the wonderful droid you had the pleasure of meeting earlier" I said with heavy sarcasm, "is blatantly not defective. Now tell me everything aboout why he was here and what he said" I demanded. "I'm a lot more dangerous than my ally" I warned.

Lola-

I honestly Didn't know what he was asking me for, because I didn't know anything. " Look robot, thingy, whatever you are. I don't know anything. And what he did tell me was a lie." I turned to the bar and took a sip of my drink.

Mr. White

It was getting on for half an hour, and still there was no sign of the Transporter I was meant to meet. I was starting to think of leaving, but Swan still wasn't technically late. Between nine and ten, that was the agreement, and it was only twenty-six minutes past. Still, no self-respecting transporter agent would keep me waiting this long...
I took another sip of my cider. It had all but lost its fizz, but the drink was more for appearances than anything else. More waiting was all that could be done.



[C'mon guys, someone play the transporter or poor Mr. White will be all sad ]

Project 100

"Sentient Factor Droid" I corrected her, as she turned back to the bar. "But you accept that you made contact with mr Narkise? This is all I need to know to hold you questionable" I continued. I gazed down at noticed something on the heel of her shoe, it was blinking, a white light, alternating to yellow, then red, and then blue, before back to white. I magnified in on it, scanning its data. The woman turned, and the scan showed incomplete. "Are you aware of the item on your shoe?" I inquired.

Amalie Swan

I strutted through the sliding doors and headed for the western wing bar. The purple light caught my blue skin as it flickered over me. Men gaped at my gorgeous curved figure as I made my way past them, I had a package to recieve. A mobian, a menacing droid, a slim woman, a passed out lightweight and a mysterious man were all gathered at the bar. Any of them could have been the transporter. I shook my head and the tendrills on my head waved. I took a few paces towards the bar, and ordered a drink. "One Firefuel please".

I looked to my right and saw the mobian examining me. "Can I help you?" I asked.

"Well..." he replied "I believe a man over there was waiting for you".

"How do you know?" I queried.

He tapped his head. "I can see it in your mind, and his. Nothing fools me".

I collected my drink and gave the man a weird look, before walking over to the suspicious man, who was enjoying a weak cider. Please...

Lola-

I looked down at my shoe. "Damn.." I muttered to myself. I grabbed my foot and yanked ot off, throwing it against the wall. "Stupid Driod." I looked at him. "And I can't say I made contact with him." I grinned.

Mr. White

A woman approached the bar, spoke with the Mobian, and then turned and walked towards me. I straightened up.
"Amalie Swan?"
"You are the operative?"
I extended a hand, a slight smile splitting my otherwise grim outlook, "Mr. White. What kind of time do you call this?"
Amalie tossed her head, gave a smile of her own; "On time. Now where's the package?"
I sighed, and produced a small bombproof case from within my coat. I knew what was inside- four vials, each containing a deadly pathogen- but I doubted Amalie would. Transporters were paid to take the package from A to B, not to know what it is. It's better that way.

Ariele

I slowly became aware of music pounding in my ears, vibrating up through the bar. I mumbled something incomprehensible and tried to sit up. My head was spinning from the alcohol, and all the lights seemed too bright, the sounds to loud. I didn't even try to guess how long I had been passed out, and more importantly, what had possessed me to pay for the experience.
I turned so I faced the opposite way. Ahead, a grey, blurry figure handed a package to a blue, equally blurry figure. Grey blur said something to blue blur; blue blur, seemingly ignoring grey blur, turned and walked away.
Slowly my vision cleared enough that I could make out the features of grey blur, smudges of monochrome mutating into a grey coat and brown hat. I knew someone who dressed like that, didn't I?
I dredged the character up from my memory: Mr. White.
What was Mr. White doing with another transporter. I knew his usual transporter.
Me.
Whether through irrational jealousy or insatiable curiosity, I dragged myself from my seat and over to Mr. White, unsure of just what I would say when I reached him.

Kuat Niket

I scanned across the room again and saw two people meeting. I saw a small case being exchanged between the two. Were this any other time I would've ignored it but now the stakes were too high to ignore tiny things that could be big mistakes. I brought my hand to my earpiece just now realising how strange I looked, "Target located...I think," I said, drawing a couple of strange looks.

"Roger pursue the target, over," a voice said over the intercom.

"Roger, out," I replied. I got up and proceeded to intercept the person who had been given the case.

Kualat

I watched with amusement as the blonde who had until moments ago been passed out at the bar staggered over to the man in a long grey coat and brown hat. She said something to get his attention, then, swaying on her feet, threw a number of accusations in his direction. None of it seemed to phase him in any way- just as well, because she had used profanities even I was offended by.
The man stood and, after muttering a couple of placatory words, left the nightclub. The blonde sat back down.
"A really strong drink please."
I poured her a liqueur which I have trouble believing contained any alcohol at all, the woman being in such a state already that it felt wrong to give her what she had asked for. The point proved mute, however; when I turned back, she had already passed out again.

Project 100

I laughed inwardly. This was a data chip, a ROF to be precise. This, undoubtably, came from Mercury, a compilation of his favourite poems, or a mission brief. Delighted with the possession of what I came for, I smiled at the woman. "Thank you for your time, I appreciate it" I lied, about turned to the bar and sighed at the unconscious woman. I emitted a small electrical discharge to revive her, then nodded to the bartender. "A protein oil, please"

Kualat

"One protein oil." I repeated dutifully, turning to locate the necessary ingredients. I tried my best not to chuckle as the woman at the bar jolted from her seat and fell to the floor, suddenly very sober.
I stirred amino acids into a pitcher of caster oil, added a twist of antifreeze and slid it along the bar to the 'bot. He nodded graciously, and I turned to the woman, who was just now dragging herself up of the floor.
"Regular drinker?" I asked, making a minimal effort to mask the sarcasm from my tone. She shot me a look which screamed die.