CMDR AL-POCALYPSE: 31.01.3302 – REFUEL

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Echoed around Wheelan Ring as Al-pocalypse ran to escape from /everyone/.

Why was he running? Why did even the station hate him? For those answers we have to delve into the depths of the past, about an hour ago.

It had been a good bounty hunt, a very good bounty hunt indeed as Dexter Vex, Ronnie Kane and Al returned to Wheelan Ring to cash in. Al suggested a nightcap or few at the bar, but the others stated that they had bunks to be getting to. Al was starting to shut down his ship’s systems and follow suit, via the bar, when a distress signal beamed in.

“Vex? Ronnie? Anyone there?” Came Souvarine’s voice, “I’m in a bit of a pickle.”

Al fumbled for his headset and replied, “Submarine? That you?”

“Dexter? Ronnie?” The voice sounded slightly more pleading this time.

“Submarine? Are you ok? Can you hear me?”

“Sadly, yes. Are the others around?”

“No, they’re more tall and thin.”

“Aha. How droll. I don’t suppose you know how to transfer fuel, do you?”

“Nope”

“Great. How ideal. This is going to be a long night…”

Some time, probably longer than reasonably acceptable, later Al arrived in Lu Xians system and bumped into Souvarine, a little harder than Souvarine had hoped for.

“Right. Now arm your fuel transfer limpets and fire them at me… No! Not your lasers! Limpets, limpets…” [crunch] “What was that?”

“Shit! That was my last tonne of beer, how do I unjetisson something?”

“Tonne of beer? Why did you bring…? Of course, the logical amount of beer to bring while refuelling. Never mind… Just set your limpets up as we discussed and launch them at me.”

Finally, some fuel transferred, then more and more still.

“Right, that’ll do. All right Trigger, calm down – I’m abundantly fueled now, thank you. An ambitious number of limpets, that. Never mind. Let’s get back.”

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“Loath as I am to say it; thank you for your help, I was definitely in a pickle there. Your impeccable skills as a pilot also ensured that I now have only superficial metre-long scratches down my hull.”

“It’s alright. Say, they may have restocked the bar by now – you can thank me by getting the next round in.”

“Normally I never pass up an opportunity to drink with the certifiable, but the bar is shut. However, there is an incongruously large bounty on my head – a memento from my brief flirtation with employment. You can have that.”

“But the bar…”

“Look, you could probably buy the bar with this bounty and I’m not drinking with you, again…”

“Oh, very well, they’d better have restocked.”

Within five minutes Souvarine was back out in a Sidewinder. “Fire away. Just make sure you catch the escape pod. Now I don’t know which of us is the most unhinged…”

And with the destruction of Souvarine’s ship, Whelan Ring station and every ship in the immediate vicinity turned on Al-poc.

“Run.” Came Sou’s helpful advice over comms from his escape pod.

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