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 Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2009 10:50 am
Essentially, any and every place out there in the Universe that has no defining feature of anykind. Literally, it's the space from one planet to another.
If you're in transit from one place to another, you're more than likely here.
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Posted: Wed Feb 25, 2009 11:04 am
Location: Venom
Destination: The Locker
Vor was just coming off a small hunt on Ptera Prime's fourth moon. It had been an uninteresting duty assigned to him by High Command: fetch a sample of Benzendium and take it back to High Research.
For the last while, his life had been full of such chores. Go here. Fetch this item. Bring it over here. Vor had not had a decent mission since his days as a Commando, or even his early days as an Agent.
True, he technically was still an Agent, but his probation made him a free-lancer. He was cut off from Pirate society, and could take no official part in it for another twenty three months, according to the Federation Calender.
Essentially, he was a Bounty Hunter with loyalties.
Often times, Vor equated himself with the Hunter, Samus Aran. She was a Bounty Hunter, and she often did work for the Federation. Vor, however, was on the opposite side of the coin: most of his work was for the Space Pirates.
That put him on another level than Weavel, even. Yes, General Weavel considered himself a Bounty Hunter, and he had done it's fair share of work. However, when it all came down to it, he was still a member of Field Command, and thus a legit Space Pirate member.
Vor was not.
Before his latest mission, Vor's former employers at High Command had been explicitly clear: the work he had been doing of late was being relegated to another Agent, one who was not on probation. Until Vor could be legally readmitted back into his culture, he was an outcast.
At least they had not had him killed, Vor mused as he reclined in the pilot seat, watching the starlines zoom by while his ship traversed Hyperspace to the Locker. It would have been a short matter for a Lockdown to be implemented and a few Elites or Commandos hounded on vor. Or even sending Weavel out.
But, here he was. High Command had at least given him the dignity of allowing him to seek work at the Locker. Though he would be most unpopular with the pro-Federation hunters and civilians there, it was the one place in the known universe where he could get decent work.
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