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[Alasdair Sitra]

“Nope.”

“Wadda mean; nope?”

“I mean you’ve had one too many already and I reserve the right as always to kick your drunk arse outta my bar.” It was a Duros who spoke, his accent far from native to his own people. Yet that was the surprising thing about the Outback, it collected strangers. “Now, you leaving? Or have I gotta call Jericho in again?”

Alasdair ran his hand across his face, stretching the skin around his bloodshot eyes. “Nah it’s fine Kaleesh.” Slowly he got to his feet. “I’ll leave properly this time.” He swayed. “Like I always do.”

“You never just leave Sitra.” Kaleesh almost laughed, but he offered him a smile and a nod like all good bartender’s would. After all Alasdair was putting his future family through college with the amount he had spent since landing on the farming station. “So I appreciate the cooperation.”

He would have taken them all.
Alasdair had moved from the bar and had hit the old street beyond, several others scattered about doing their business as they always did. “Sleep.” He said to himself, ignoring the pair of eyes that had followed him out of the bar and down the road he was staggering along.

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

Alasdair’s current abode. It was no more then a dusty shack on the outskirts of a dusty town on a dusty planet.Yet it had charm. Or at least that was what Alasdair liked to say to keep his hopes up.

A simple kitchen unit was accompanied by an old wooden table, his personal effects; a jacket, pair of boots and the like were scattered upon it. Nearby was a worn down bed, sheets screwed up across it like it hadn’t been made or slept in for months, the couch, leaning to one side seemed to be the choice sleeping place. In fact the form of Alasdair was already on it, snoring away when the front buzzer rang loud across the room.

“Wha?”

Buzz Buzz.
“Mr Sitra?”

“Wha? Yeah…wait a sec.” Alasdair reached for the blaster that sat on the arm of the couch before making his way over to the door.