Should we stay or should we go?

<McKenzie's>
Zack Richards burst through the door just before Weston-Smith
locked it. The only illumination came from the security
lighting. "What's going on?"
Weston-Smith shrugged. "We've arrived at the Jupiter Station,
and everyone is scattering on shore leave. Mr. McKenzie usually
shuts the store down during that time."
Zack caught his breath. "Okay. Great. Have you seen Cubie?"
Weston-Smith's expression hardened. "Now that you mentioned it,
you can find your holowife trashing the Men's department. I think
you'll find that your next month's pay should just about cover what
she's done so far. If you hurry." He finished locking the door,
then headed back toward the stairs. "Let me know when you decide to
leave."
Zack jogged through the store, listening for the sound of glass
breaking. It was deathly quiet in the store. Even the Muzak had
been shut down. After a minute, he arrived in the Men's department.
Racks were upturned, and suits were everywhere. Belts were
dangling from the light fixtures. Shoes were scattered all over the
floor.
"Cubie?"
"Za-a-a-a-ack."
He whipped around, homing in on the voice. "Hey, sweetie! You
all right?"
A shoe flew out of the shadows, catching him between the
eyes. "'Bout time you got here. I had to fend off a monstrous
rodent. Six feet if it was an inch."
Zack rubbed his forehead, already imagining the unique red mark
that was forming. "That might have been Commander White Wolf."
Cubie sauntered out into a circle of light provided by one of
the sparse security lights. "That rat was a commander?"
Zack smiled at Cubie, all the while trying to see if she was
carrying any weapons. "A hamster. And yes, he's a commander. He's
apparently one of the more competent officers on board. Stewie gives
him twenty percent off on alfalfa pellets and cedar chips, but I
think it's because he got a bulk discount a few years ago on a couple
tons of the stuff, and needs to unload it."
Cubie smiled seductively. "Zacky, I've got something for you."
She struck a sultry pose and gestured for him to approach with her
left hand.
Zack relaxed. "Oh? What is -"
Cubie punched him right in the mouth, knocking him to the
deck. "This is for leaving me in a rack of pagers."
Zack rolled away, then scurried behind a counter. When she
didn't pursue him, he peeped over the counter. "Sooooo . . . are we
even, now?"
Cubie rolled her eyes. "Because of you, I'm a fugitive from the
STCP. I'm experiencing increasingly frequent memory lapses. And if
I'm caught, I'll be erased or worse, turned into a class four
receptionist in the STCP complaints department. I'm stuck on a grimy
mining ship and you think we're even?"
Zack smiled nervously. "Well, yeah."
Cubie frowned, but a smile slowly broke through. "Zack, you are
impossible! Take me away from here. I need to go dancing or
something."
Zack stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, it's gonna have to
be cheap," he gestured to the wreckage, "but I'm certain there's
SOMEPLACE with a dance floor. If you don't mind going with someone
in a slightly scuffed suit."
Cubie sidled up to him, linking elbows with Zack. "Lead on,
honey."
Together they headed for the back ofice to be let out.
Later, they strolled down the promenade. It was unusually quiet.
"Everyone's on shore leave."
Cubie frowned. "We're in port? Why not get out of here?"
Zack shrugged. "I've got steady work here, something I thought
I'd never have again. And we ARE basically broke."
Cubie flushed. "Sorry."
Zack waved. "Aww, don't sweat it, Cubie. We've been in much
greater fixes than this. Besides, there are a lot of interesting
people on board . . ." they looked around, "usually."
Pointing at a sign down the road, Zack squinted. "Is that a
nightclub?"
Cubie nodded. "I think so. Wanna check it out?"
"What the heck. At least the lights are on."
Zack and Cubie
OOC: is anyone still IN the bar? Or did I miss the fun?