As I stood in place smoking cigarettes dressed only in my black space uniform and a plasma pistol inside my black holster strapped to my right thigh, the commotion around me persisted, with Xeno passengers pointing at me and my soldiers, clearly intrigued by the videos circulating on the galaxy net.
My officers diligently filled out the necessary forms at the Galactic Council's branch office to establish our mercenary outfit as a legal entity.
This was an important step for our operations in this new galaxy, ensuring that we could operate within the boundaries of the law.
As I waited in the civilian starport built strictly for business that belonged to Elven Collective, I couldn't help but brood over the fact that I got dumped.
The videos and pictures of me and my soldiers had drawn significant attention, not only from curious civilians but also from various military entities who were shocked by our capabilities.
The attention was unavoidable, and it was clear that we had become a topic of interest in this galaxy.
The galactic council representatives insisted on a thorough species examination, but my officers held firm in their refusal, citing the council's own rules that respected a species' right to withhold such information.
This was one battle we weren't going to back down from.
If we did then no matter how good the Galactic Council portrayed itself as the Galaxies Big Brother aka the Galactic police they would definitely send over a whole fleet to capture us with the intent to perform dissections to figure out what makes us tick.
"F*ck It I'm hitting the bar"
I voiced out my intention out loud as I started walking to the bar while following the holographic directions in my HUD view.
While my two albino marines dressed in the same as my space uniforms but with different ranks with their sidearms strapped to their right thighs followed closely behind me.
As I entered the bustling bar, I scanned the room for any potential contacts or interesting figures.
The holographic directions had led me here, and it was time to see what this place had to offer.
I quickly found the bartender and sat down together with my soldiers on the bar counter's chairs.
"A bottle of your strongest poison!"
I shouted while extending my black glove with integrated plasteel knuckle guards gloved index finger.
The civilian barmen a human if you removed his cat ears and tail dressed in professional clothes gave a nod of acknowledgment.
I couldn't help but raise my white eyebrow at his appearance, no matter how I looked he looked human, but then again I already met elves and vampires so It shouldn't be much of a surprise, actually I should inspect their DNR then I have some free time.
Maybe they are the descendants of human colonists from the Milky Way after all a lot can happen in one hundred thousand years, and the Milky Way and Andromeda weren't under my jurisdiction during my time as a grim reaper.
So I only knew what the cruise ships databanks told me, anyways my system's balance had increased from a fat zero to one thousand apparently I can get points for destroying and killing which works just fine for me.
Thanks, Death you're the best boss ever!
I mentally thanked Death as I forcefully grabbed the already-opened bottle from the barman's hands and to his horror started chugging it down like a champ until it was empty.
"Good stuff, give me another one"
I raored over the loud music which seemed to be all the rage in this day and age.
"How... how are you not dead yet?"
The petrified barman asked as he took the empty bottle from my hands.
"Iron kidneys, just kidding cybernetically and biomechanically enhanced ones with the best that the money can buy"
I said while grinning causing the barmen to mindlessly grab another bottle from the stall and place it on the bar counter.
As I indulged in the strong drink, I scanned the bar's patrons, looking for any potential contacts or conversations that might lead to new opportunities in this alien galaxy.
Being a mercenary and running a ship like Einherjar came with its hefty expenses, and the compensations I had secured from the cruise ship barely covered the costs incurred during the rescue mission.
The bar was abuzz with activity, and the eclectic mix of alien species was intriguing.
I observed conversations, body language, and any hints of information that might be of interest.
It was crucial to gather intel and potentially secure contracts or jobs that would help sustain our operations and keep the ship running.
As the night wore on, I maintained a careful balance between enjoying the drink and staying vigilant, always ready to seize an opportunity in the vast galaxy that had become my new playground.
Suddenly a hand forcefully grasped my shoulder as I did I spun around while grabbing the hand and the next sound that was heard was the bones snapping and a pig being slaughtered like scream reverberating through the bar.
I looked down only to see a seven-foot-tall Elve male with a scarred face dressed in a fancy and expensive black tuxedo who didn't lose out in the muscle department but surely did in everything else.
The seven-foot-tall Elven male winced in pain, his hand now twisted at an unnatural angle.
The bar had fallen into an eerie silence as the other patrons watched the confrontation with a mixture of shock and curiosity.
"I really don't like people touching me without my permission"
I said in a low dangerous voice with my marines already pointing their pistols muzzles at the offender's head, ready to pull the trigger on my order.
The Elven man grimaced but managed to maintain some composure despite the pain.
"I... apologize,"
He stammered.
"I didn't mean any harm. I just wanted to talk."
I loosened my grip slightly, allowing his broken arm to hang limply.
"Talk, then. But choose your words wisely."
The Elven man swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously between me and my marines.
"I heard about your crew's... capabilities,"
He began cautiously.
"My boss has a job that might interest you. Something that requires the level of strength you displayed."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite the rocky start.
"Go on."
"Please follow me"
The Elve said as he stood up and started navigating through the crowd to a private booth.
I nodded to my marines, signaling them to lower their weapons, and followed the Elven man through the crowd to the private booth.
The bar's patrons slowly returned to their own conversations, the shock of the earlier confrontation wearing off.
In the secluded booth, I saw a fat Elve partiacilly converted to a cyborg dressed in fancy and expensive clothes that were just a step from being noble's clothes sitting on a couch while scantly clad xeno women from different races clung tightly to his body.
It was clear that he was enjoying the attention and the luxury that his status afforded him.
However, I didn't give a f*ck I just took out a cigarette from my pack and lit it up with my zip lighter.
"So I heard you got a job for me?"
"Yeah, a bunch of orcs are on their way to ransack a planet on which I have a bunch of factories are you up to it merc?"
"Give me the details"
Hearing this the man started explaining the specifics.
As he did I took a drag from my cigarette, the smoke curling upwards as I listened to the Elven fatso.
Defending a frontier planet from an orc invasion that was classified as a marauder empire by the galactic council.
It was a grim tale of how a once-primitive orcish civilization had been manipulated by a powerful empire.
These orcs, initially known for their cheat like endurance and raw physical strength, were discovered in a primitive world.
Recognizing their potential as a formidable ground force, this empire decided to experiment on them, administering various evolutionary-enhancing drugs.
With the intention to turn them into they're personal bio weapons.
However, this experiment took a dark and disastrous turn.
The already fearsome orcs, capable of tearing a person apart with their bare hands, underwent a transformation that turned them into mindless killing machines.
Their intellect withered away, leaving behind only hulking, muscle-bound creatures with an insatiable appetite for violence.
The empire that had meddled with their evolution paid a heavy price for their hubris.
The rampaging orcs turned on their former masters, obliterating the empire and seizing control of their own destiny.
In the wake of this upheaval, they transformed into intergalactic pirates, making their homes on massive space stations.
These pirates ventured out from time to time to plunder the resources necessary to sustain their newly formed civilization, forever changed by the disastrous experiment that had unleashed their unrelenting brutality upon the galaxy.
The job certainly sounded like a task that my crew and I were well-equipped to handle, given our combat prowess and advanced technology.