Irvin the Dockworker

Irvin the dockworker grimaced as he lay down the final box of gear. After wiping the sweat off his brow, he slid down into a sitting position and leaned against the box and looked out towards the stars. It had been one hell of a day.

A bizarre order had come in to move a large portion of Gunpoint Diplomacy's shared hangar into the self-proclaimed Commodore Avan Sercedos's hangar. Just as they had finished moving all the equipment over, both by hand and by machine, the Commodore himself stormed into the room screaming about shitty interfaces and mindless workers. After nearly knifing a dockworker who talked back to him, the Commodore made his exit, complaining that they could have at least moved the exotic dancers as well.

Irvin wouldn't have minded that so much.

After a few minutes, a flood of smaller orders came in from the Commodore's quarters. They would slowly but surely return all the mistakenly purloined goods from his personal hangar back to Gunpoint Diplomacy's. A good while later and the hangars were mostly returned to their former states. Irvin had been happy that a long day's work was finally over.

Just moments later, another order came in. This time it didn't originate from the quarters of the Commodore. A mysterious order had come in from some mischievous fellow. This time, somebody else entirely had ordered that the entire contents of the same hangar that had just been emptied and restored be delivered back into the hangar of the Commodore. Irvin had sighed and picked the box he had just set down back up, growling. He had known that the first order was the correct one, the Commodore had probably just been high on Exile or something.

With the articles finally back in the Commodore's hangar, he returned. Sercedos seemed to have grown several days worth of facial hair in the short time between his appearances. He just looked around the hangar with a depressed look, and went over to one of his vessels, his fashionable Ares interceptor. As he came closer to it, his sad look changed to a look of glee as he gave orders to swap out some of the equipment attached to it. Finally satisfied, he sailed out into the unknown, to eventually return in his pod. As he strode forth from his pod, completely arse-naked, his grin had only grown.

Irvin worked for some strange people.