The Welcoming. . . .

Who: Barf Chucksome
Where: Blue Dwarf
When: After the long explanation.
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Never a dull moment for Barf Chucksome, but there's no reason to complain: the
pay is
good, plus he could never live a life of leisure without going crazy and wanting
to punch
something. Sometimes though, he just wished his life was a tad easier,
especially seeing
all the other Blue Dwarf visitors stare in astonishment or fall in suprise of
him. It's all
because of a slight shapeshifting gene from the family. Oh well, he doesn't
mind much,
never did. In first getting into the mining business, since he was 12 (he
somehow ages
differently), he encountered the same thing, but then he gained respect of many
of the
miners, which got him into Danger Management in a year, and has been in Danger
Management ever since.
Speaking of which, Barf remembers hearing about Rico visiting this ship all the
time. He
really doesn't know what Rico thinks of him. It's funny the people you don't
really know
that well even if you've seen them everyday.
Anyway, yeah, on the Blue Dwarf, and this is suppose to be vacation. Getting in
this place
was like getting into the queen's battle cruzer, if there was a queen anymore,
Barf is never
sure about anything. It might as well have been the queen's ship because it
took him
several precious vacation days just to admitted in. It's not easy being cooped
up in his
loaded piece of junk, floating in space. That's just what he wanted to call it
too, but the
boss didn't like his best man driving something that was in reference to the
garbage
company. So, Barf named it the best thing he could think of: Dent. Either
way, he new he
didn't leave a good impretion upon the captin or anyone else that was involved
in his
screening.
Too many questions for this to be a lasting vacation, and that seemed to be the
case when
Barf entered the bar. He was praying and hoping that nothing would start on the
count of
him ordering a drink from this bar. However, some things are just too
inevitable:
The bartender looked at Barf and asked, "What can I get for you?"
Barf tried saying this in the calmnest voice he had, "I'd like a Mountain Dew
please."
The bartender looked at him funny, Barf knew he was contimplating whether or not
this
was a serious request.
"Okay," the bartender said. Barf then sighed inside his mind, that could have
been worse.
He wasn't about to let his gaurd down though, there were still others around.
When Barf
recieved his drink, he paid the bartender more than what the drink was worth.
He always
payed more than the worth of things, it always lessend the chance of trouble.
Barf was
just happy to have this nice, cold drink to gulp down in no time flat.
Not too long after he downed the whole soda did he notice a suspicious character
walk
into the bar. If there's one thing Barf knew more than anything else, it was
danger. Aside
from the shapshifter family member, there was also a psychic heritage. If
anyone would
guess about him being the black sheep of the family, it would be Barf. His
psychic ability
only detected danger, though, and nothing else. In fact, it wasn't just
premonition: he
knew what type of danger, when it would happen, and just how to stop it.
Step one: Barf waited for an "inocent civilian" to start something with him,
which came at
just the right time. "Hey wuss," said the man. Aside from danger, Barf knew
how to start
bar fights. This happened to be step two: Always steal the thunder of any
species that
carries bombs into a ship. Once the bar fight begun, everything was in turmoil,
and every
drunk was in on it, but the suspect with the bomb. No sweat, Barf new how to
get out of a
bar fight just as easily as he knew how to start one. Now was time for step
three: Follow
the suspect and save the day. Not bad for the first day on the Blue Dwarf.
This was
turning out to be a great vacation. . . yeah right.