“Ah damn” Indy shouted as he threw his blaster rifle to the floor. They had landed in front of the post office just in time to see the door closed and the sign hanging in the window flipped from 'open' to closed. All of their pointing to the rifles and banging on the door just got them an evil look from attendant drearily sweeping up the empty office.
“What kind of post office closes at 10? Seriously, this is ridiculous, it’s not even lunchtime!” Harvey shouted to the door. In a quest to balance budgets with the post-tubes in everyone’s homes, all post offices were only open for an hour per day.
“Maybe this vill all just go away?” Herstaff said quietly.
“Look, you got us into this mess and you're sure as hell going to fix it” Indy retorted sharply. “We only have one choice, go to the Vorgon 5 system and get it back before the whole galaxy gets destroyed”.
As he said this a great post carrying cruiser lifted up from behind the post office, it's thrusters producing an ear crushing roar. As it rose it angled up towards the sky and accelerated outwards into space.
“Damn, we're going to have follow that thing aren't we?” Harvey exclaimed dejectedly “But we don't have a ship”
“Well... I do, but it needs a replacement Hyper-Drive core, and the only one on this stinking asteroid is owned by that junk Baron, Von Gogh, and he's not definitely not into just giving things away. I guess we need to go pay him a visit,” Indy fired up his jet-pack while the others followed suit.
They landed a few minutes later in the industrial side of town. It was more like a ghost town, without a living soul in sight. The whole area was filled with great big rusting warehouses, this gave the whole area a brown and orange hue of degradation.
As they walked down the dusty silent roads between the great hulking shells of the old factories they felt watched. This was because they were being watched. No one entered Baron Von Gogh's territory without him knowing about it.
Eventually they came up to a rather discreet warehouse in the middle of the industrial estate. The only thing that made this warehouse stand out from all the other rusting buildings was a large bear motif sprayed on to the front of it. The bear was giving a large thumbs up and underneath the words 'Happy Bear Salmon Co.' were sprayed in large pink letters.
“Are you sure this is it Indy? It doesn't look like the cess-pool of the modern world you mentioned on the way over here. In fact, I think it looks rather nice” Harvey remarked.
“Well, you haven't seen inside it have you? So shut up and follow my lead” He banged on the heavy industrial roller door 3 times, paused and knocked again twice. A gruff and graying bear’s head poked out of window above the door, looked down on them and shouted.
“What do you want?” its accent was laden with a French twinge.
“We're here to see the Baron” Indy replied to him.
“No one sees the Baron, no way, no how!”
“They learnt English from old American TV shows” Indy whispered to the others, he then looked up at the bear and called out. “Look, don't make me come up there! I need to speak to him now, tell him it's Indy”.
“Mon dieu” it grumbled, “I will pass the message on, but if you’re wasting my time I will come at you with furious anger!” The bear's head popped back inside, a few minutes later it re-appeared, “ok you can go in, but do not touch a thing!”
The double sized roller door rolled up to create an archway that lead into the open interior of the warehouse. The trio tentatively passed under the archway and into the gloom.
It took Harvey's eyes a second to respond the dim light that barely illuminated the inside of the large space. What he saw was quite a shock, there were a few hundred armoured bears hanging around the warehouse, in-between massive piles of scrap metal. Some were playing cards, others were drinking and swearing profusely, he even thought he saw a breakdancing competition going down further back. Most of the bears were wearing berets, and a few had garlic cloves strung round their neck. Harvey leaned over to Indy as they stood side by side.
“Isn’t this very stereotypical?” he whispered.
“Nope, it’s called tradition, French bears are a very proud race, so don’t say anything bad about their food or football.”
Most of the bears didn’t seem to notice, or appear to be bothered, with the newcomers to the warehouse. However, several were staring intently at them, one particular bear who was sharpening his claws on an angle grinder gave a rather murderous look.
The intimidating atmosphere caused by this murderous intent was broken sharply by the opening of a door to their left. The same bear that had opened the shutters was standing in the extra-large doorway.
“Garçon, le Baron is expecting you.” The Bear that had opened the door told them, “this way”. He turned around and into the stairway the door opened into.
Their bear guide led them up some stairs and into a small reception room. From behind the white washed brick walls they could the sound of heavy machine and the crashing of scrap metal. The bear stopped in the reception area and pointed to a single couch flanked by small palm trees facing the only door in the room.
“Please wait here, le Baron will see you shortly.” He tilted his upper body slightly forward in a half assed bow and headed off, back down the stairs he’d brought them up. No sooner had they sat down then a muffled shout of ‘come in’ could be heard from behind the door.
“Welcome gentlemen” A twirly moustached man was standing by a window that overlooked the massive piles of crap in the warehouse. He was wearing a top hat and monocle, as if he’d just walked out of an old western film, complete with a long jacket and an ornate pistol hanging from his waist. The man had a thick, southern America type drawl “Please put those blaster rifles down over in the corner there, you won’t need them here. And I hope y’all appreciate the pleasantries I’m showing you, drink?” He inquired, holding up his own glass of whiskey.
“No, I’m good thanks.” Indy replied, walking over to the corner of the room, the other two members of the party also shook their heads quietly. They had both decided to leave the talking to Indy, as he seemed to already know the Baron in some capacity. After putting their jet-packs and blaster rifles down, the Baron gestured to the waiting chairs facing his desk. They sat down.
“We were hoping that you could give us a hyper drive core.” Indy told him.
“What do you have to trade for it?” The Baron asked quizzically, settling himself into a rather lavish chair behind his cluttered desk.
“Well, nothing to be honest, Herstaff will be getting a very interesting TV series box set soon that I’m sure he’d be happy to give away to you.” Indy glared at Herstaff, who timidly shook his head. “Apart from that, we we’re hoping you’d just give it to us.”
“And why would I do that?”
“The fate of the world is in danger and the hopes of the world rest on us getting this core.”
“Well, isn't that a fine situation to be in, and what do I get?”
“Freedom, and the knowledge you helped save the world.”
The Baron twirled one side of his handlebar moustache, and looked pensively for a second into his glass before looking back up. “That doesn’t sound very appealing, no deal.”
“Look, we’ve both owed each other in the past, and we’ve always paid the other back, do me this favour dammit!” Indy was starting to become enraged, but the Baron seemed nonplussed about this.
“Maybe you can do something for me, in exchange for the core. I used to have a sporting partner who is currently… how should I put this, Unavailable. If you take his place and beat me I will give you the core, no strings attached. You have my word” The Baron put one hand over his heart.
“Ok, if there isn’t any other option, we'll do it. We need to get going today though, so which sport is it?”
The Baron drunk the last of his whiskey. Slammed the empty glass down on the table, and looked straight at the sitting trio with a crazy glint in h
is eye. “Bear Explosion Ball”
Herstaff gulped, while Indy stood up and stared straight back at him “It’s on!”
“What’s Bear Explosion Ball?” Harvey asked quietly from his chair. He was quite certain that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it.