Bits and pieces..... Sometimes that all life is.... That rat without whiskers across the bar is trying not to look too closely at me, but he IS looking. I’m used to that. People see what their eyes tell them to see, I guess sometimes their eyes just might be right. They see the guns...scratched...used...top of the line, I won’t be apologising for having the best gear I can to keep my insides inside. They see my old battle suit... Well some of its old...the chest piece is brand spanking new, only one hole, one previous owner...I got it real cheap. Sure my helmet looks mean, but I would call that a happy accident, I swapped it somewhere in the hades system for a devastator with a hair trigger...sometime later a fight in a hanger in some system I can’t quite recall, some guy swinging a Wrench would leave a long deep scratch that made my ears ring and make the helmets eye holes look angry, menacing. Didn’t plan it. Didn’t want it......still no one swings a wrench at me anymore...that brings me to my boots...nice huh? Last guy didn’t need em anymore. When I think about it, everything I’m wearing has a story...One previous “not too careful owner”. I’m covered in bits and pieces....maybe people are right to stare.....worry..... They don’t know I’m not just some loose cannon, another hair trigger.....I know why they think I am....they read the words “loose cannon” and ‘hair trigger” on my gallant energy rifle...the guns last owner scratched them in with tip of the combat knife that’s resting in my boots...guess he thought it was a good joke..ha ha...seriously though I did chuckle a little. Truth is every person I collected a useful item from offered it to me, as a kind of sorry for pissing me off gift. They may not have handed it to me with a pretty bow and a smile but they may as well have. Hmmm Ratface is looking at me again...wonder if he knows why I am here....patience friend, you’ll get your answer soon enough. The bar here at levski suits me. It’s made of bits and pieces. all functional. Tough, sturdy, cheap. Most of the stuff in here had a previous owner...a previous job..stools made from repurposed rover axles....a dividing wall that was peeled from the inside of a cutlass if I’m not mistaken. I feel like me and this bar...I feel like we are both covered in debris...shame I won’t be able to come back here for a while...but luckily, unlike me levski has a short memory...I’ll be back. Bouncers just ran off to stop the fight I paid for...time to move............ .......the sack twitches again.....the sack is thin, but very strong....hessian...a very old textile.....date’s back to 20th century earth apparently, according to the banu who sold it to me....I was more surprised that a banu knew or cared about the history of an item than the age of the sack. I bought it right away....it’s incredible how hard it is to find a thin, sturdy, human sized sack.....thin is good because it dosent stop the flow of electricity from my stun baton into the sacks contents.....a groan and then stillness....yep, working as intended. Simple things work every time. Dragging a person in a bag is a suspicious endeavour. customs can be tricky and it’s good to know who is working the graveyard shift. Still, on levski the hanger means home free. A huge empty space with walls and a roof. Well empty except for my one true love. In a way I guess she is just like me, big, hulking, intimidating and deceptively quick. I suppose she looks a little slapped together too....the ramp at the back is a little rough from dropped cargo boxes and patched bullet holes, and I have to admit some of my passengers have acquired a few bruises as I dragged them up it. Never really seemed to affect the bounties though so I never really ever saw any reason to knock the bumps out. She didn’t look like this when I found her of course...old army surplus, left behind on some battlefield after a missile took off one of her weird engines. Laying on her side waiting for someone to care......someone like me......bits and pieces made her whole again..... Bits and pieces and a lot of work.....but she’s good as new now....better....custom....like me. A.I. Blades run the two turrets. I’m not good company really...ask the guy in the bag...so I did the crew a favour by not needing one. I never bothered with the drop pod. One stasis pod and some cargo room for long trips....who am I kidding...they are all long trips...ok, one more heave and the bag goes in the pod......done. I walk up the stairs to my home, it’s small but much more than I need. It was made for 3 so I can stretch out. Some old comedy is still playing on the vid, it’s helps me switch off when I need to go to sleep. the volume is always low...all I can hear through my helmet is “mumble mumble” and Then some canned laughter. As I climb into the cockpit and begin my start sequence the door closes me off from the hab and all is quiet again. As quiet as a person in a sack in a stasis pod. Time to collect some credits. Hope this guy pays when the time comes...but then again...he does have a nice custom arc light pistol with auto mode and extra long mags....would look real nice strapped to my boots....bits and pieces.