Iv'e actually written a whole story on this to-be-modified-into-an-adventure. Here's a little piece of it for the time being. More will be produced once I get the hang of being a dad for ankle biter two!


Gabriel rapped repeatedly on the facing door.

"Yeh?", growled a stifled voice.

" It's me Kirby, I need to speak."

Gabriel's head leaned on the door and he tapped the frame, slapping the framework as it edged open. A leering eye peered out, a pause, and the door flung open. Behind it revealed a huge, brawny man with a beaming smile. Dishevelled, and hung-over, Kirby motioned for Gabriel to enter.

" Gabriel! What brings you here? Come in, come in! Don't mind the mess!", Kirby exclaimed cheerfully.

The staleness of the air struck Gabriel as he entered. The room, unkempt and filthy. Clutter streamed over any attainable surface it could cling to. Kirby reached down and shovelled a seat clean, offering it to his visitor. The blond man steered around to the proffered chair.

" Cleaners day off?" Gabriel mused softly, as he kicked a couple of empty bottle out of the way.
Kirby smiled, and hunkered down on the sofa and clapped Pup, a huge mongrel, who grumbled softly.
"So what can I do for you friend?" The large mans attention on Pup.

Gabriel leaned forward. "I've got a job for you. Merc work, in and out. Hostage rescue."

Kirby glanced up. "I got a job with Stanta. Easy work, sociable hours."

"Very sociable, I see." Gabriel looked at the liquor bottles. "This job, it's good money. Enough to get you out of this hole."

"Wanna drink?" Kirby offered. Gabriel shook his head. Nonplussed, the big manripped open a can and quaffed a good portion. He squinted at Gabriel as he drank.

"So, what's the catch? Who's yer hostage?"

"Juggers."

Kirby stopped drinking and stared directly at Gabriel, his genial mirth suddenly gone.

"Crith! They're no walkabout! You got appropriate hardware to tackle them?"

Gabriel nodded. Kirby resumed drinking slowly, and paused.

"Who's employing?"

"Your old associates, Vroom"

Kirby's face bunched into a scowl at the name.
 
"Them?" he hissed, "No chance, find someone else!", spitting the last words out venomously.

"Come on Kirb. Look, the money is real good, and it's quick. In and out."

"Gab, I don't care about the money, an' you bloody know why! I ain't workin' for those crithers!", he snarled.

" Kirb, I really need you on this, and besides I'm employing you, not them. I need the best team on this. You said yourself, Juggers are no walkover."

"Said it already, Gab. No chance. Why you so desperate for this job anyway?"

"I owe someone and they called it in," Gabriel leaned back in the sofa, sighing. " And that's what I'm doing with you Kirb. I'm calling in what you owe me."

Kirby said nothing and drained the remainder of the beer, wiping the spillage from his face. He looked down.

" You're that desperate. You knew I was going to say no."

Gabriel shrugged. "I had no choice. Like you."

Kirby stood up, resigned to the fact. "Okay, I'll grab my stuff and Pup's coming too." The dog raised its head at the mention of its name. grumbled, and laid back.

Gabriel stared at the mongrel. " You want to bring that stinking mutt, fine. Be at the docks, 19 bravo, at 1700hrs."

 He stood up, negotiated the debris, and opened the door.

"See you then." He said, " and Kirby, clean yourself up first - You're a mess!"