"Wow, you're taking this in a lot better than I thought." Cutter said, sounding rather relieved. He glanced back at Lance, who was still facing away from the both of them. According to blood pressure and brain scans, he was pissed off as hell. The A.I. sighed. "I'm Cutter. I'm a standard artificial intelligence construct assigned to my partner over there." He gestured over to the mercenary. By now, Lance had begun to begrudgingly follow her lead. Cutter seemed to glide along with him, though Lance remained silent. Once more, silence reigned supreme, and Cutter awkwardly scratched his neck. That is, of course, until Lance finally spoke.

"Lance." He introduced himself reluctantly. He seemed to have cooled down somewhat. "Lance Carter. I'm a freelance mercenary. Former United Earth Government Naval Command Marine. Left because the pay wasn't good." It wasn't much, but small talk did help him to cool down. "How much further is this town of yours?"

"Skye," the woman said, walking as she listened to how the marine, Lance Carter, described himself. She had no idea what the United Earth Government Naval Command was, but she understood why he left it. She too would have left a job if the pay was not very good. To the next question, she simply replied, "Not long ahead."

That much was true, for a little but of walking revealed Avalon, surrounded by a wall of stone. The ranger walked to the main gate, before stopping and turning around to face Lance. "Welcome to Avalon, my home town," she said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I have no idea what you want to do here, but I guess I'll stay with you. Nothing better to do."

Lance took one look at the 'town' and scoffed. "This is your hometown? It's kind of small, don't you think?" He said, stopping in front of the gate. "At least it isn't Valkyrie's colonial camp..." He muttered under his breath. He had been hired to take out some dangerous alien wildlife on a new colony world. The ship that had landed on the new planet was used as the base for colonial operations, and a small base was formed a fair distance away from the ship. With limited supplies, living conditions weren't that good. Plus, the colony ship was sent by a private company, not the UEG, which explained why it was lacklustre compared to the well-supplied UEG colonial efforts.

The mercenary scanned the perimeter once more, then turned to the woman, Skye. "Yeah, is there a bar or something around here? I could really, really use a drink right now."

Skye watched Lance as he looked around, before turning back to her and asking about bars. "Yes, there is a bar. The Happy Dragon is over this way," she replies, beginning to walk. "I really don't know where you're from. You're just so, strange, with strange armour, and a strange weapon," she continues, sighting the bar getting closer as they near it. "It's almost like you're come kind of deity, some kind of god of war that has came down. So mean, so rough." She says, before whispering, "So scary."

The bar had tables scattered around, most occupied, the building itself thriving with activity. A red carpet was afoot, showing that the bar was indeed one that racked in the money, though Skye herself would have picked blue or perhaps a yellow carpet. She probably would have replaced most of the paintings on the walls as well to some friendlier looking ones: The only one she really admired was a painting that took up an entire wall, displaying a massive countryside.
Once they were in the bar, Skye turned to look at Lance. "I hope that you've at least brought some money. I'm not buying you a drink."

Lance shrugged as he followed Skye in, trying to ignore the strange looks the town's inhabitants were giving him. "What's wrong with my armour? It used to be standard issue for UEGNC Marines until 2832. My amour's old but reliable, and I'm pretty happy with that." He followed his companion to a wooden building with a sign that read 'The Happy Dragon'. "The Happy Dragon? That's a pretty shitty name." Nonetheless, he pushed its wooden doors open and entered, greeted by the sight of a lively interior.

Of course, it went silent when everyone saw him. Lance gave a halfhearted wave, and a few more seconds passed before the noise resumed like nothing had happened. The mercenary sighed and pulled out a barstool and sat on it, the wood audibly creaking under his weight. "Hey, bartender!" He shouted, catching the attention of a young man, currently in the process of cleaning a silver tankard. The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "What can I get you?"

"The strongest shit you have."

The bartender set the tankard down and retreated backstage to presumably prepare something very alcoholic. Lance then heard Skye speak. "I hope that you've at least brought some money. I'm not buying you a drink."

He froze. It hadn't occurred to him that these backwater people may not use Credits as their currency. "Aw, shit. What kind of money do you people use?"