Stella Fortuna 2955 Bar Crawl Screenshot Contest

Luck is deviant; twisted; whimsical

We took our chances but we didn’t meant things to plummet as they did.

As we finished our shifts for the weekend break, the whole crew met at GH main concourse to watch the scramble races, have a few drinks, laugh and go back to the habz to sink in our bunks for the rest of the intermission. Just to blow up some steam so we could bear with another rough toil cycle.

But Luidgi had a hunch, him and his sensational hunches!

He snitched us a winning racer to make a few credits and we blindly bet our entire month salary. Surprise, his Mustang Omega blew up with the starting gun. Luidgi sagged, a safe gamble about to turn into bleeding sot tears.

But when you have nothing to lose, you hate your job deep within your working class overalls skin and you also know how is your mate’s luck and how racing works, you bet for the mangy hound to hope that poor wretch manages to outlive the remains of the faster racers to finish as the sole survivor. And it happened!

The rest of us bet for this pokey and the winnings ratio were insane. Jackpot!

We wouldn’t have done it without Luidgi’s push and we are a tight troop, so we didn’t think it twice and we immediately bought tickets to Microtech and a grav-lev bike per each of us to have a hover trip through the wild while our bosses were melting our names by the Comm-Link.

Freedom!

We stopped by at Astor’s Clearing bar to have a bitter refreshment and Salem happened to stumble over a huge kopion, killing it on the very spot. He ended a bit boozy after that, so we had to carry him the rest of the trip. We thought the villagers were gonna murder us for squishing their pet but apparently it was the seasonal hunting contest and that behemoth has been frightening the town during the last couple of weeks. Lucky strike!

We earned a trip to New Babbage on the Mayor’s Constellation Phoenix, boosted by the Murray Cup’s sponsors, flying with all luxuries along with the last season’s winner with whom NeoJet became best pals!

The downside befell upon us as we realized that Salem was flat after the crash with the kopion. I mean, departed, gone, buried, unalive, no more.

We gave him the nicest burial from the ritzy Phoenix, watching him riding his bike to the stars by our bow, and we hoped those Bioticorp mass regen failures on the papers wouldn’t affect him, because we were’t expecting news from him in a while nevertheless, as his hangover was bound to take longer than the Magnus ATC services.

New Babbage was a blast. Straight to the Wally’s bar, partying hard for the sake of our missing fellow. But then it turned into decadence. We’ve been on a non stop carousel since Stella Fortuna started till its end. Words were said, aristocratic sorts were offended, pretty faces were battered and memories were lost as a snow flake in the mantle of MicroTech.

And here we are now. Who knows how we ended in the most volatile environment possible. Our bikes are gone, we have nothing but our tourists alike sparkling garments and here it is this fully tattooed mob boss, who happened to save us from the bloodthirsty local goons who were eagerly willing to hack our heads to garnish some aloprat skewers.

He won’t stop staring at us, telling me how much he likes my Luminalia sweater, how much it brings back childhood memories to him and how we all feel like a family to him, while he trace with his finger the sharpness of a Smoltz shattered bottle in this station BaRR. He doesn’t want us to ever leave.

We only have these pictures and a last Mobiglass entry about us going through the Pyro jump point as a clue, which fits because my heart is beating as red as the gas clouds surrounding us and it sounds exactly as the station broken pipes pumping our hopes towards the cold void.

Please, send some help.

We’ve never missed our jobs this much.

Contributors:

@NeoJet

@Luidgi509

@Salem_Frost

@Rickytiky