Mass Effect: Earthborn

Chapter #07 The Mick

Chapter #07

The Mick

10.11 p.m., March 17th, 2170

Outside the Black Hole Nightclub, New York City.

March was unusually cold this year, but that didn’t stop people from enjoying St. Patrick’s Day. It seemed like people were actually pouring more booze down their throats than usual, maybe just to give some heat to their bones.

It had been almost three months since Cross said he would take a look at the email, but so far, he hadn’t found anything. On Christmas Eve, he told me that it was probably just some friend of Stings who wanted to scare me, but I was still concerned with how the sender of the ominous email knew that I was the one who had killed Stings.

Either way, it seemed like finding out was becoming more and more of a longshot, so I let it go.

“There you are Shep!”

I was brought out of my thoughts and looked up at the entrance. There, in a skin-tight green dress, stood Tina. I took a last look at all the people in the huge line that would have to wait to get into the club. Instead of waiting, I walked up to Tina.

“Hey girl!” she said and hugged me. “Damn, you look fine tonight!” she said and giggled. I looked down at myself and admired my attire: high heels, skin-tight jeans and a green V-neck t-shirt and a black waistcoat with only one button buttoned. On top of it all I of course had a dark brown leather jacket to shield myself from the cold.

“Not as good as you, Tina” I said and we started to walk towards the entrance.

The doorman knew we were with the Reds, so he let us through with no fuss.

On the inside, you could really see that it was St. Patrick’s Day since most of the Black Hole’s color schemes were changed to the green spectrum, with a green bar, green drinks and green lights. Even the screens that were usually blue or purple and showed patterns that changed with the music were changed to be green.

The techno music was booming, and the club was almost full, at least the dance floors were full. The more open area we had entered from the entrance, had some couches and chairs for those who needed to relax for a while, and opposite the entrance was the bar.

We quickly made our way over there and ordered four shots, which all looked poisonous because of the venom green color.

“Happy Saint Patties Day!” Tina yelled through the booming beats of the music.

“Bottom’s up!” I yelled back.

We both downed our first shot and then a second after jamming the glasses into the bar; we downed the second set of drinks.

The green stuff tasted sweet, but still with the bitter edge of alcohol. It reminded me of a much stronger version of apple cider.

Tina was moving to the beats while I ordered a glass of whiskey. “Wanna go dancing?” she asked.

I chuckled while I took a sip of the whiskey to wash the bittersweet taste of the shots away. “You know I can’t dance.”

“Nonsense! That is only a matter of how much alcohol you got in you!” she said while still moving around like she was just about to burst into dance.

“Well, I am nowhere near that drunk yet!” I said and realized my mistake right that moment.

“Barkeep! Four more shots of that green stuff!” Tina told the bartender who laughed and refilled our glasses with the venom-like substance.