Fantastical and Exciting Adventures... IN SPAAAAACE!: THE ADVENTURE!

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"....Yes." Akira answered. "I'm pretty sure you just scanned wrong."
 
The Spider began tapping its front legs, "She says I'm an out of date model, and I am destined to go to the scrap heap." The Spider said in a melancholic tone, as it focused various visual receptors on Akira, and others on the surrounding environment, "It was surprising that I was to be assigned this task, I was expecting the call for someone else. I was most certainly called to this as I was the closest. I am Unit Model Number 391-JF, Assigned Moniker Peter." The Spider again scanned Akira with it's blue lights, "Apologizes for needless rambling. Scanning in Progress please remain still..."
 
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"Aw, that's too bad." Akira replied, still standing still. "Um, hey, Peter. If you're so outdated... I kinda have connections with a tech company. I could probably get you upgrades, if you want."
 
Peter finishes his scan, as he twitches his front legs in an eager fashion. "Override Scan Results." Peter begins making a large amount of clicking sounds, as he focuses his visual receptors on Akira, "User is qualified to learn about Supplier. Supplier of Blue Galaxy Stimulants is Bakug Gorg. Bakug Gorg's official designation employment Galactic Banker of the Credible Credits. Resources owned by Bakug Gorg, various asteroids devoted to manufacturing of drugs, hired soldiers and ships to protect his holdings. Status amongst White Nova Syndicate, Appreciated Merchant, Bakug Gorg pays his cut to the Syndicate whenever he uses their locations to have drugs go through." Peter's visual receptors focus a bit, as it begins tapping its foot, "Data Access acceptable? I can access more data if possible... White Nova Syndicate representatives in vicinity, if this practice does not go through, bad results will entail. They are wanting cut from this trade."

As he said that the White Nova Syndicate Enforcer behind him just kept casually smoking his cigarette, as he kept peering at the Spider Droid and Akira.
 
He stopped running down alleyways after about an hour. He was in the middle of a bustling area filled with various inns, merchants, and --- based on the white, blue, pink, and green bags they were selling --- drug dealers. Throughout his comfortable night jog, he had heard many people calling each other things. These things, he believed, were "names". A moniker, a label even, given to individuals in order to separate them from one another. Some shared the same ones, but for the most part they were unique individuals.

Except John and James. They were not unique individuals.

I lack a name, he thought to himself. He knew that he had been using what is known as a pronoun to refer to himself, and that worked fine, but he did not have his own, unique name. He was certain that, at one point, this body of his had a name... or at least, a label. But no longer. He was no longer that person. He was now a newer version of that person, although nobody else would realize that.

And it was confusing. So. Very. Confusing.

He had a constant headache now, and was thinking in both the past and the present. Who he had been, and who he now was. The most confusing thing is, he had been two different entities, and now he was only one. Or was he two entities? No, no... he was only one.

I killed the other one, he thought to himself. That's right... he'd taken the other one's life, so that he may live.

At this point, he was standing on the street, just pondering. People were staring at him, and before he knew it, lotsa people were staring at him. So he put his head down and entered a seedy looking bar.
 
As the man without a name entered the tavern, he was greeted by individual who was at least 8 feet tall. This was a Urik, a large reptilian creature. The Urik had sharp fangs, beedy red eyes, and thick claws. The Urik was covered in a series of thick grey scales, and had a bony series of spikes coming from its head and extending down its neck. The Urik was wearing a large leather over-coat and a nondescript grey shirt and pants, and a pair of sandals over the clawed feet.

"Welcome to The Oaken Fiddle! I'm..." The Urik hissed and made deep guttural growling noises for a few moments, "But everyone just calls me Hzz.. What section would you like, smoking or non-smoking?"
 
Smoking or non-smoking...

"Non-smoking." He said, obviously. Smoke comes from bombs, and bombs lead to death.

He knew that very well.

I need a name, he thought to himself. It was getting very annoying referring to himself as "he" all of the time.

"Tell me, is there anywhere a person can rent a vessel in order to leave this planet? Or is there a place in which I may garner large amounts of currencies of legitimate monetary value?" He said, his voice unextraordinarily mono-toned.
 
The Urik glanced at the man, and showed him to the non-smoking section. The Urik tapped on the table, showing a holographic menu. "The Black Market Lobby sells used spaceships at incredibly low prices. AS for money, I'm sure you can get a job to gather some more cash if you need it... Or you can try your luck at the various games hosted here! But for now, take a look of the menu, anything you want to drink?"
 
"Hm, not bad. This is a good start. Do you know if they've employed smugglers who can reliably transport twelve tons of drugs?" Akira asked, pulling up an email system on the holo-flag.
 
He pointed to something on the menu.

"Tell me, what is this "Blood of Virgin Children?" He asked, peering at the Urik. He had not heard of this particular drink before, and in fact he had never had a drink before. But his throat was very dry, and thus he believed a drink was in order.

"Also, how much do these spaceships cost? I need a figure in order to calculate the amount of time it will require me to acquire one." He gazed around the room, looking at various prostitutes and criminals. He heard one of them say something...

"Tell me, what is poker?"
 
Peter began making more clicking sounds, "Accessing list of Smug-" as he was about to say that, the White Nova Syndicate Enforcer gave Peter a good thwack. "Hey, buddy..." The Enforcer said, "I'm sure those smugglers wouldn't like you telling this guy.." The Enforcer stared at Akira, gazing him up and down. "Say, you look like a good kid, tell you what... How about you mosey on away from this place. I wouldn't like you to attract the attention from the Syndicate... if you know what I mean." The Enforcer took his cigarette and put it out on the robot's head.

Peter tapped his legs nervously against the ground. "Y-yes sir... Smugglers identities would not like to be revealed. White Nova Syndicate cut of profit is assured."
 
The Urik smiled at the man, "It is a delicacy taken from ripe younglings, the erythrocytes and blood plasma are mixed together, and chilled, providing a delicious and refreshing treat. Would you like that as your drink? As for the ships, it depends on the type you are looking for, I'm sure they are willing to haggle down a price to confirm a sale. Space Poker is a classic game. Space Poker consists of two cards being dealt face down to each player, typically there are five of them in a game. Then three community card are immediately placed down. Then people go around the table, deciding whether or not to fold their hands, check or bet. Then after that, the fourth card is placed down, and the process repeats itself, as for the fifth card. And whoever has the best hand, using five of the cards, wins the pot that had accumulated over the game." The Urik smiled at the man, "So, would you like that Blood of Virgin Children to drink?"
 
"I can't leave yet!" Akira said. "You don't understand; this is for justice! It is-"

He struck his dynamickist pose "MY HEROIC DUTY."
 
The White Nova Syndicate Enforcer began tugging at his beard, "Ah one of the Heroic Types, eh?" He pulled out another cigarette from his breast-pocket as he took out a cigarette and lit it. "This stuff is going to a Party Ship, willing consent and all that... You aren't really gonna get much Justice from stopping a Party Ship. Though, there are dealers who provide to more notorious clientele." He released a puff of smoke at Peter. The White Nova Syndicate grinned, "What if I help find you someone more evil to crash? Wouldya leave this shipment of Psycho-stims alone?"
 
He shook his head at the offer to the blood of virgin children.

"May I just have a bowl of basic organic matter? Whatever your cheapest is. I would also like to play this game of Space Poker. Find me opponents," ... Then, he called Hzz his real name.

"I would like to play in a high stakes game, if possible. My life for a decently fast spaceship."
 
The Urik blinked for a moment, shedding a single tear. "None of these customers have been able to refer to me by my own name... I haven't seen another of my own kind while doing this job in so long." Hzz sobbed for a bit, before shaking his head, "My apologizes, the cheapest bowl of bio matter. Well, I'll give you the co-ords for a high stakes game, see if I can set you up. I have a buddy who over-sees some of the higher stake games, I'll let 'em know a new guy is gonna show..." Hzz, or rather the Urist who's actual name was a strange form of hissing and deep guttural growling headed back to the kitchen area, to inform of the man's order.
 
"I dunno." Akira pondered. "Drugs are pretty evil. Like, super evil. Especially if you push them on kids and stuff."
 
The White Nova Syndicate Enforcer chuckled, "Yeah, they aren't pushing on kids, and if they were, I'd have to act, if only to make sure my kid doesn't get involved with that stuff." The White Nova Syndicate Enforcer tugged at his beard, "But it's a Party Ship, only adults are allowed on it, and they read the health risks that the drugs will bring, and they go on it." He shrugged his shoulders, "But yeah, there are worse crimes out there, some that make the bile from my stomach come out." The Enforcer glanced at Akira, "But hey, you're doing what you love, which is really all you can get from life, so let me see if I can find even worse criminals for you to go against." The Enforcer smoked another bit of his cigarette.

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Hzz returned with a large bowl, and placed it down before the man. The bowl was cast iron, and the substance inside was a strange slimy mess. The matter was all grey, and it had large lumps and craters in it, and there were some small white things moving through it. The matter smelt like burnt rubber, and there were noticeable hairs in the matter.

Hzz glanced at the man as he said, "This bowl was the cheapest stuff we got, and... as you actually could say my name, it's on me. I know it isn't much, but I hope you can at least stomach down that meal. As for a game of high stakes, I've just contacted my buddy, and they can bring you in... Though it will be quite costly, and I need to tell 'em what you'd be risking, after all high stake games have high stakes. But she can assure you a spot."

Hzz nodded at the man.
 
"Well when you put it that way..." Akira pondered. "I guess I can give you a listen, if there are even worse criminals. Whaddya got?"
 
He lifted the bowl up to his lips, pouring the entire thing down his mouth like a waterfall. He cared not for taste nor texture, he merely needed to have sustenance. And sustenance he had.

"Tell me, how much does it cost to get in? I do not know what is considered to be of high costs here." He said, as his head pounded with a migraine. His head felt ready to explode, but he knew that the chances of that happening were far less than .001% at this moment. It was just his brain trying to remember things that may or may not have happened.

"And where can I meet this person to get into the game?"
 
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