Erik Tan
"How long till ya understand ya brick?" yelled a particularly angry bartender, "I ain't servin ya no more, I won't do it, in fact, I'll ban yer ass if you don't scram! So I'll say it again, get the hell outta my bar before I get someone to get you out for ya!"
The grizzled "brick" sitting at the counter stared the bartender straight in the eyes, with no reaction to the spit and slob the man slung at his face. The two men stared for a straight minute before the man wanting probably his tenth round stood, his broad structure making him seem to loom over the bartender, who suddenly became a little less secure yet still held a strong façade.
"Good, now why dontcha turn around and get, how about it ya sack of dirt?" the bartender said in an attempt to remain in charge of the issue.
The "sack of dirt" said the first words he'd said all week, and said them in a deep and resonating tone, "Look here, I am not someone you toy with, I fight to keep ungrateful scum like you safe, and what did you bastards do? You fucking turned your heads and joined some damned rebellion nuts for whatever reason."
He then booms to the entire room "I fought for all of you!" Everyone looks at the screaming loon, "I defend your homes, I keep your lives calm, I maintain the quiet night! I fight for you people, I've won medals for it! What goddamned lunatic goes and turns their head on the people who provided food, homes, work, safety, and a good life to them?!"
Most people grumbled about the Federalist, some carried on with their drinking and gambling, three or four show enthusiasm, but kept it hidden in the rebel supporting bar. One man in particular however, would stand up and walk up to the man who was still standing and slightly slipping his stance from a head rush from too many drinks.
The newcomer to the conversation spoke, calmly and casually, "So, you love the Federation, for all its worth?"
"No shit, who would've guessed," said the Federalist.
"Do you know who I am?"
"No, who cares?" The Federalist stumbled a bit towards the man and bumped into him.
"Oh, no one." The man pulled out a handgun and fired a hail of shots into the Federalist's chest, the whole room spun to see the Fed groping at his chest and stomach, which were now punctured with many holes, too many for him to count before he fell on the floor to lay until he died.
"Ey, you best be paying for the compensation and damages and then leave!" cried the bartender.
"Pay? Alright, is a grenade worth enough to cover the damages?" He pulls a grenade from his coat and holds it in the air. The air goes still and nobody dares to move or speak, nobody at all. One man makes a quick dash for the door and soon all of the patrons start to panic and flee as he pulls the pin, drops it at his feet, and joins in with the flood of civilians.
With a large boom being heard from where there used to be a bar, Erik considers something, something that simply hadn't crossed his mind. Who in the living shit does something like that? "Me, I deserve it, I saved a colony anyway, I think I need to balance out my save count to body count a bit." He grinned a bit as a squad of rebels ran to handle the damage control of the used-to-be-bar.
"So," he thought, "the Black Dirk...well, I guess it's about time I met the captain, an old Fed soldier, I hope that's a good thing..."
A lone rebel approaches Erik, and he quickly stows away his grin and stands tall for the uniformed revolutionary, "Need something?"
"Don't joke," the soldier started, "An explosion went off in a bar in the next bay over, were you in Bay 062 in the last 10 to 15 minutes?"
Erik pulled a look of confusion, "Well, I heard a loud thud, but I wasn't over there. Jeez though, a bomb? Guys, I'm trying to live in the apartment over here and a bomb goes off next door? I'm living right in that building, I mean Christ Almighty, Jesus!" He couldn't resist insulting the rebel and his cause.
The rebel glances at the building, then his holopad, then back to Erik. Erik spots the rebels hand go for his baton, "That building is a warehouse for Docking Bay Li-" The soldier is cut off by a fist straight to his face. Erik pulls his sword from his time in the Federation Colonial Marines and thrusts it straight into the dazed trooper. He dies without a single cry.
Erik continued to ponder, "Well, good start, only a colony minus one to go."
"Fuck the Rebellion, fuck the Federation, fuck that all."
"Now, where the hell is the Black Dirk?"