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| Descending Twilight | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 23 2008, 08:30 PM (6,555 Views) | |
| ~Twilight~ | Dec 23 2008, 08:30 PM Post #1 |
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Just... Kind of out there...
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Code Sequence Beta-Z3D4 Verifying... Code verified. Access Granted. Subject: Twilight "Indeed..." A pleased sounding human male in his early thirties said to himself, as large amounts of text began to scroll down his computer screen. The room he was in was almost completely dark, the only light-source was the screen which he now stared at intently. From the glow one could make out his white lab-coat with a federation insignia on his chest and another one on his arm, just under his left shoulder. He had dark brown hair which was cut short and slicked back over his head, with his eyes being covered with an ordinary pair of square glasses, though the light from the screen reflected in them, making it impossible to clearly see his blue eyes, there was an unmistakable smile on his lips however. He stopped to read a particular segment of text throughoutly, though he had been the one to write these things down he always enjoyed reading about the things which had caught his interest. Subject appears to be made up of 'light' and 'dark' energy, otherwise reffered to as matter and antimatter. A most peculiar combination as any scientist worth his title would know they cannot mix, as that would cause a so called 'matter-antimatter annihiliation' reaction. Reason for this is unknown, but might be discovered through further study. What might be considered even more peculiar however is the subjects apparent ability to draw upon this energy and use it as weapons, similiar to the few logs we were able to discover of the Luminoth's Dark and Light beam weapons. These all seem impossible, but that itself only further proves how the subject must be part of the Ing race, which do not belong in our own dimension, which might explain why they are capable of such things. The man pushed a few buttons on the console infront of him, which minimized the data log and brought up a communications window, with a few additional button presses the window announced it was connecting with the target, and while he waited he began to stroke his well-shaved chin like if in thought. In about a minutes wait the screen flashed to life as a middle-aged man appeared on it, clad in a uniform signifying him as a Galactic Federation general. "Yes, Dr. Harris?" The middle-aged man asked with a raised brow, he had apparently been expecting a call from the scientist. Harris himself had taken on a serious 'only buisness' face after the general had appeared on screen. "Oh, just curios General. How are the preparations comming along? I'm sure the information I have provided will aid you in the targets capture, after all, we cannot allow a dangerous creature such as it to run freely around federation space, can we?" He said with a serious voice, putting extra emphasis in the words when mentioning how 'dangerous' the 'target' was. "..Yes, we have formulated a plan of action after your information and suggestions, as well as a backup plan should it fail. Plan will be set in motion soon enough. I hope for your sake this 'target' of yours is what you claim he is. Now if you will excuse me... I am a very busy man." The general said as he cut the connection, obvious worry had shown on his face at the end, it would become apparent they were acting without proper 'authorities', and the man was worried about his own status. "Heheheh... Yes this is going.. Perfectly. Splendid indeed." Dr. Harris said to himself with a wide smile spreading on his lips. --- In another section of space the 'subject' himself was flying through the emptiness in his ship, the 'Lightbringer' class Luminoth transport ship he had stolen when he first left Aether. Nearly a week had passed since the phazon conflict had been resolved, and with his newfound power Twilight had attempted to persue what he thought to be the last other Ing, the abominable 'royal' Ing that had been hunting him for several years. When he had last seen the monstrosity it had been so charged with phazon he was unsure of if it was even possible to destroy it, but so much phazon could not be good even for it. The only reason for it to load up on so much would have to be that, it was going to recreate the hive... If only for that reason he had been trying to track the beast, but just a day ago he had lost its trail, and not been able to pick it up again... With not much more to do about it Twilight had decided to meet back up with Omega Alpha, and possibly the Hunter also, it had been a while since he spoke with the metroid, and he felt he needed their help if he ever wanted to track down and destroy the abomination of an Ing. However he was somewhat unsure of where the two would be at this point... The phazon insurrection had taken a lot longer to resolve than he had originally thought it would, it had at first just been an escort mission however... So it wasnt that strange. 'Well I guess I should try to send that 'Adam' a message, he seemed reasonable and should be able to relay it to Samus and Omega.' He thought while tapping the side of the control console infront of him. He was just about to write the message when he was interupted by a pop-up on his screen, announced with a low 'blip' sound and a message icon. 'A message? From whom?' He thought, with curiosity rising he opened the message. 'A mission request? Thats unusual, I usually have to apply for them.' He thought as he began to read through it, reading it through entierly before he leaned back in his seat. 'A guard mission? The location is nearby, just a few hours travel time. I suppose I might as well.' He thought as he began to plot a course for the nearby system. After getting the coordinates down in his computer and the engines ready for the jump he began to write type out the message he would send to Samus 'partner' Adam.
With the rather... Crudely written message sent, Twilight initiated his ships jump drive, a second later the now golden colored ship, with parts being a rustic bronze from the long exposure to the acidic dark atmosphere which had permeated the interior of the ship for nearly a decade, became a bolt of light which disappeared into the depth of space. Several hours later Twilights ship came into excistance as a bright flash of light above a ordinary looking planet, somewhat similiar to a pangea form of earth, with one massive continent stretching out over its surface, while there was nearly only water on the other side. Already having the randevouz coordinates Twilight set the ship to auto-pilot and let it descend onto the planet on its own while he went over a collection of data files, nothing of interest to the mission itself, but they still contained knowledge that interested him. After about fifteen minutes the ship had gone through the planets atmosphere, and after a quick identity check it continued its descent onto a large grey mass below, most likely a larger city. After yet another ten minutes the ship landed in a large hangar-like compound. What immidiately caught Twilights eyes was how the area looked completely desolate, not a single soul in sight, and no other veichles of any kind. Yet it had several crossing corridors from all directions. He just shrugged mentally however, it was most likely his instincts telling him the place was optimal for an ambush, but why should he be worried about that here? With a last quick check over his equipment, which really only applied to the armor which was fused to his body, he walked up to the airlock hatch and opened it with a quick code-sequence, after which both the inner and the outer airlock opened. As there was no longer any need to contain any dark atmosphere, he had just made it so they both opened at the same time. With nothing else holding him back Twilight casually stepped out of the airlock, onto the concrete floor below, his feet making a low 'thud' as they hit the surface. According to the directions he was meant to go south from the landing area and meet with someone a short distance away, this would be an easy job. Or so he thought... ["Is the target in sight?"] a voice crackled over a comm-unit of a G-fed marine. The man stood just by the edge of a corner to a passage left of him, behind him stood an additional five troopers and right across from where he stood was another group of six. If one went around the entire landing zone one would find atleast thirty marines spread out and hiding, all surrounding one lone ship and its unaware occupant. "Yes sir, target is approaching the point, standing by until in position." The man responded, his grip on the high-caliber energy rifle tighening in anticipation for what was to come. With a few quick hand gestures the troops on the other side changed their positions slightly and prepared their weapons. --- An hour later a message was sent over the federation broadband to several hand-picked bounty hunters and other individuals of similiar position. URGENT ORDER Subject Greetings Bounty Hunter, through your loyalty to what is right, and your efficient skills of the hunt, we of the Galactic Federation have deemed you as one of the select few to be entrusted with this most important mission. We have recently uncovered how a dangerous creature has been masking its precense in the Federation by acting as a mercenary for hire, but it has been proven it was all in order to observe and sabotauge the workings of the Federation and we believe it to be an ally of the Space Pirates. Little information is known on the creatures true name or purpouse, but what it called itself while being in Federation space is 'Twilight'. The goal is to capture the creature so it may be analyzed and interrogated to uncover just how far its plot went, and a bonus will of course be given to whomever captures it alive. Included in the message you will find a data log containing all information we have managed to aquire on the creature. Bounty Alive: 1.500.000 Dead: 1.000.000 <Data packet 49.97 TB, upload y/n?> If one uploaded and read the data pack, they would find a large collection of high-resolution images, showing both the past form of Twilight wearing a dark purple federation armor, as well as his present self. The pictures was taken from a variety of angles and in a variety of locations, but most seemed to have been taken in a form of large ship, a few others was displaying his ship, both in present and past form, and at the end was a small collection of data revealing some of his abilities and other things, but not nearly as much as they actually knew. Though it explained his apparent resistance to blunt trauma and normal bullets, it did not say he was infact an Ing, neither that he was made off or used light and dark energy, merely that he could fire blasts of energy from his arms. What was also contained was the last seen location, Atu-3's capital city, but that he had left the city in his ship, however they had also stated how the ship was damaged and most likely could not use its jumpdrive... In other words, he was trapped. |
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| ~Metamyth~ | Dec 25 2008, 01:45 AM Post #2 |
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BURMA
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In the darkness of space, there was a small fighter-craft that stood out against the inky, star-dotted background of space. Inside the ship, a large man, wearing little but a set of tight pants, struggling against a multi-armed robotic creation sprouting from the wall. On each of the mechanoid's three arms was a short blade that quivered, trying ever so dearly to cut the man's throat. The man was covered in small dots, each one holding a sensor to his skin. He dodged a thrust from the machine's second arm and countered with his own sword, striking a vulnerable spot on the end of the arm before the blade. The blade dropped off and the arm retracted, having been defeated. The first arm was brought to justice soon after with a similar blow. The third remained, thrashing wildly at him with what seemed to be a much larger blade. The two met blades harshly, sparks flying from the colliding metals. The arm pushed hard on his blade, knocking him off balance long enough to get a deep cut along his cheekbone. The gigantic man roared in anger, flicking a switch on his personal blade. The air around him got noticeably thicker as the sword ignited with electrical energy, arcing up the blade like snakes. He furiously cleaved the blade from the arm, disregarding the sensitive area entirely, impaling the sword node with his crackling blade. The wounded machine's last arm dragged the ground as it retracted back into the wall with the others. -:-SUBJECT CAUSING DAMAGE TO EQUIPMENT, DISENGAGING,-:- a voice above him droned on as he moved a hand gently along the cut on his face. "Damn thing's getting out of hand," Faulias Khayorn said. "For a minute there, that had gone from training to reality..." He pulled back his hand, watching as his crimson blood, warm in the cold room, rolled down his hand from his fingertips. Silently, he decided to get himself cleaned up. ~ In his lavatory, Faulias finally applied a strip of bandaging to the cut on his face, having cleaned it properly. He took a cloth, soaked with water, and wiped the blood that had fallen off of him from his muscular torso. A small beeping noise echoed through the silence of the lavatory, and his muscles went tense until he realized that it was only his wrist console, in the bridge still. His ship was so quiet that he could nearly hear anything that went on in it when it was dormant. It kept beeping until he angrily stormed into the room and jabbed the display until it stopped. His furious prodding of the machine had opened a message, apparently from the Brass back at G-Fed. He curiously worked the display to view the full message. After reading, he ran a hand through his graying hair. They wanted an acquaintance of his, Twilight, captured, dead or alive, preferably alive judging by the higher reward for such, and it screamed the same suspicion he had felt when delivered the mysterious message aboard the G.F.S. Aquila telling him to watch Twilight for suspicious activity. He didn't like the whole thing, since, as it seemed to him, Twilight seemed like an alright guy, even though he had his suspicions about his origins. Maybe this was a chance to get to the bottom of it? He accepted the mission and viewed the files attached, which stated with some certainty that he was trapped around ATU-3. He sat in his command chair, groaning as he did so, and set a course manually for the star system ATU-3 resided in, silently vowing that he was going to figure out what the hell was up with this Twilight fellow. |
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"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way. Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants." Dresden Codak, Dark Science | |
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| ~Bloody Pom~ | Dec 25 2008, 07:07 PM Post #3 |
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
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Elsewhere, amidst one of the many nebula clusters common in galaxies such as the Milky Way, another craft sat silently in a clear patch of space, well concealed from outside eyes by the turbulent gas clouds. The vessel was of Pirate configuration, but with heavy visual modifications. And the sole occupant was another story entirely... The reptilian creature grunted, mopping his brow with a towel. Leaning against the doorway, he looked back into the room behind him. At least half a dozen Pirates lay dead on the ground, some murdered quite brutally. A new development was the lack of any sort of wounds attributed to ranged weapons; deep gouges and snapped bones took their place. "Training session complete. Compiling log..." chimed an electronic, female voice, the sound echoing through the ship's interior. The corpses and bloodstains spread around the training room flickered and disappeared, the clearly Pirate-styled architecture following shortly after, the walls, floor and ceiling fading to metallic tilework. Tapping a console outside the room, the male stared at it for a moment, before snorting in annoyance. "Still not good enough," rumbled the creature, his voice low and coarse. "T'kran, T'kran, T'kran, you've been relying on your guns for too long, you've let yourself get rusty in the melee department." The Pirate was as large and heavily built as any of his kind, if not more so due to his unique genetic coding. However, the signs of age were readily visible on his features; faint lines and pits were visible on his face, even through his rough scales, and his eyes lacked the spark of bloodlust that most Pirates had. T'kran was old for a Pirate, probably the oldest of his kind. Being a rogue, he wasn't prone to being sent on suicide missions or being turned into an ice cube by a certain orange-clad bounty hunter. If he'd been in the Legion he'd probably hold standing similar to the space dragon, Ridley, if not more, given the overgrown dinosaur's fondness of getting himself blown up on a regular basis. That damned lizard had more lives than a crateful of cats... A chime from the ship's command console drew his attention away from the post-session analysis, the Pirate returned to the cockpit, seating himself in the pilot's seat and tapping in a few commands. What he saw took him completely by surprise... URGENT ORDER Subject Greetings Bounty Hunter, through your loyalty to what is right, and your efficient skills of the hunt, we of the Galactic Federation have deemed you as one of the select few to be entrusted with this most important mission. We have recently uncovered how a dangerous creature has been masking its presence in the Federation by acting as a mercenary for hire, but it has been proven it was all in order to observe and sabotage the workings of the Federation and we believe it to be an ally of the Space Pirates. Little information is known on the creature's true name or purpose, but what it called itself while being in Federation space is 'Twilight'. The goal is to capture the creature so it may be analyzed and interrogated to uncover just how far it's plot went, and a bonus will of course be given to whomever captures it alive. Included in the message you will find a data log containing all information we have managed to acquire on the creature. Bounty Alive: 1.500.000 Dead: 1.000.000 <Data packet 49.97 TB, upload y/n?> "Ugh, can't these Federation bureaucrats ever do something for themselves for o- hmm? What's this... Twilight, eh?" His eyes opened a little more as he read through the bounty details. "Working for the Space Pirates? Well, that settles it. I thought he was on the level, but... an Ing is an Ing, it seems. Time to go teach him why it's a bad idea to work with the Legion when I can learn about it." Tapping the console once more, he scratched his chin while reading through the data packet, pausing at the shots of his new appearance. "Well that's certainly interesting. I dare say he should put on a helmet, but who am I to talk?" He chuckled quietly to himself, knowing full well that he was by no means pleasing on the eyes either. Pirates weren't made to be attractive. "Resistant to blunt trauma and conventional weapons... looks like I'll be dusting off the Imperator again." An older weapon, but excessively powerful for an arm cannon. It hadn't failed him yet, so why replace it? It also had the advantage of being one of the most adaptable weapons he'd ever had the pleasure of owning. Setting the ship's autopilot for about half an astronomical unit from the Atu system, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes as the ship navigated it's way through the nebulae and plotted a course for his destination. He didn't have to worry about being followed, the chaotic energy spikes from the gas clouds would mask his Jump signature. Edited by Bloody Pom, Dec 27 2008, 07:15 PM.
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"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company![]() ![]()
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| ~The Boss~ | Dec 25 2008, 07:39 PM Post #4 |
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Native Son
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(OOC: Alright, get comfortable, cause this is a long one) The game had been going on for three days. Four players and one dealer, seated around a card table in a smoke-filled hotel room engaged in a marathon poker session. Strictly deep pockets only. And the way things looked at the moment, it could very likely go on for another three days. There was Thurgood Evanston, a strip club baron and the man who ran this game, not to mention the player who had lost the most money thus far. To his left was Chien Ho Ming, a wealthy Martian businessman who was a familiar sight at high roller tables all across the galaxy. To Evanston's right sat the dealer, a whiskey-throated woman named Loretta, a self-described "tough ol' broad." To her right was a shifty-eyed mercenary known as Moke. Finally, there was the dark-haired young man in the leather jacket seated directly across from Evanston. Rex Vega. Gambler. Troublemaker. Ne'er-do-well. Not to mention youngest son of one of the galaxy's most notorious crime families. Rex was more than just a good poker player. He was a phenom. Mozart with a deck of 52. He played aggressive, he bet big, and he had an annoying habit of winning big. At the moment, he was currently in possession of half the money that Ming had started off with, about a third of Moke's stack, and perhaps most importantly, nearly all of Evanston's. As Loretta dealt the next hand, things were starting to get tense in the room. In addition to his family name and his skills at the poker table, Rex was known for having a mouth. When he was winning, which was often, he never let the other players forget it. This tendency led to more than a few fistfights at the poker table. Occasionally, in some of the less-civilized parts of the galaxy, it led to gunfire being exchanged. At the moment, it was Evanston who was on the receiving end of Rex's jabs, and he didn't like it one bit. He hated to lose, hated it with a vengeance. And he was losing big right now. Evanston looked at his hand. He'd come up with two pair, queens and sevens. Not bad, but not exactly good either. Ming and Moke both folded rather quickly, leaving only the smug kid opposite from him to contend with. Pretty predictable, the way his luck had been heading. "Ya know, I'm starting to feel a little guilty here," Rex said, "taking all you guys' money. I just hope none of you guys were thinking about throwing any first-born children into the pot, cause I ain't ready to be a dad." Evanston glared at the kid. He'd had about enough of Rex's lip, and he was sure the other players had as well. How he'd managed to survive this long without being killed was a mystery he'd never understand. "Check," Evanston said, gnawing on his cigar. Rex took a peek at his hand and checked right back. It was hard to get a read on the kid, particularly because that obnoxious attitude never changed. He supposed it was his version of a poker face, though whether intentional or not it definitely worked, much to Evanston's frustration. He checked again. Rex peeked at his hand again, appearing to think it over, then finally checked right back. What the hell was he doing, Evanston thought. He could be sitting on a monster hand and trying to lure the older man in. He could be waiting to see what his opponent would do. Or, he could simply have nothing and be stalling until Evanston made a mistake that he could take advantage of. Wanting to probe a bit further, he checked back to Rex, and once more Rex checked right back. Now it was really starting to get annoying. Finally, Evanston decided to make a move. "I'll raise you," he said, pusing a stack of chips into the center of the table, doubling his bet from five five thousand to ten. "Okay, okay," Rex said with a grin. "Now we're playing some poker!" He matched Evanston's bet, then after a moment's thought, raised him. The pot was now up to thirty thousand. Evanston hesitated, then matched Rex's bet. At this rate, he was going to run out of chips before they even showed their cards. "F*ck it," Evanston finally said. "I'm all in." He pushed his entire stack to the center. Rex let out a low whistle. He loved these gut-check moments, lived for them. His brother Jimmy could have all the power, the money, the respect, and the girls (okay, maybe Rex wanted a girl or two for himself). For the younger Vega though, there was nothing like the smell of victory. That moment when you just knew you had the other guy, when you had a gun to his head and he didn't even know it, metaphorically speaking. And he most definitely had Thurgood Evanston. Had him by the short n' curlies. "Well, if that's how you wanna play it..." Rex said, pushing his own stack into the center. "Then I'm game. Although... you're lookin' kinda... kinda teeny tiny there ain't ya?" Evanston sneered and Rex's remark, which he could tell by the boy's sarcastic tone wasn't really directed at his chip stack. He'd had about enough of this. And that's when he whipped out the pistol. Everyone covered there faces for a second, expecting the shooting to start. Loretta reached for the sawed-off shotgun she kept leaning up against the wall for just this sort of occasion. But then Evanston laid the high-tech weapon down on the table. "Hydra Mark IV directed energy pistol," he said. "This baby will melt through the thickest body armor like a hot knife through butter. Best energy pistol made by human hands. You want stakes boy? There you go." Rex smiled. He didn't need any sort of explanation on the Hydra Mark IV, given the fact that his currently incarcerated father was once one of the galaxy's most prolific arms dealers. Jimmy often carried one of those as well (his was named Lila). It was a damn fine gun, and Rex had always wanted one. "Call," Rex said. Evanston laid down his cards, showing his two pair. Rex smiled again, and laid down his cards one at a time, deliberately dragging out the tension. Ace. Jack. Five. Jack. Jack. Three of a kind. Rex gathered up all his chips then, still grinning from ear to ear, stuck the Hydra in his belt. "Well gentleman, I have to say it's been a hell of a night," he said, getting up to leave. He was ending on the highest of high notes, leaving Thurgood Evanston dumbstruck and seething with anger. ........................... The hotel was actually aboard a space station. Rex's room was just a few levels below where the game had taken place. As soon as he walked through the door, he could hear the shower running, and a throaty female voice singing along with Aretha Franklin at the top of her lungs. "Cha-cha-chaaaaaain... Chain of fools..." He chuckled to himself and sat down on the couch to count his winnings, listening to the girl belt out those old R&B tunes. He'd run into Grace, she who was called the Grey Fox, a few weeks ago while he'd been traveling through the rim. It had been good to see an old friend, even one that carried an on-again off-again affair with his brother. Having nothing better to do, with apparently no work lined up, Grace had decided to travel with Rex for a while. Eventually, he'd heard about Evanston's poker game, and decided he wanted in. They hitched a ride to the station, got themselves a suite (a two-bedroom, much to Rex's consternation) and had been chilling here for the past few days. The water stopped, and so did the radio and accompanying singing. Moments later, the gray-eyed assassin stepped out of her room, wearing only a towel. "Hey Rex," she said, offering him a smile. "I see you had a good night." "Yeah," he said, trying not to gawk at her. He'd seen her wearing less before, but still. He felt had to be a gentleman about it. "So what's so great about Georgia anyway?" she said. "Huh?" Rex was thrown off by her seemingly random question. "In all those old songs, they're always talking about Georgia. Georgia On My Mind, Midnight Train to Georgia, Skynyrd digs them Georgia peaches. What's so great about that place?" "I dunno. I guess cause a lot of those old soul singers were from the South." He passed her a thick wad of multi-colored bills. "There's your share. Thanks for loaning me the buy-in." "No problem." "Oh, and check this out." He whipped out the energy pistol and showed it off with pride radiating from every corner of his face. "Won this puppy off Evanston himself." "Hydra... sweet. I used to have one of those. It got lost when-" Grace was interrupted by a beeping from her room. She went over to the nightstand to retrieve a PDA and came back to the couch. "Looks like I just got me a job offer. 'Greetings Bounty Hunter,'" she read aloud from the screen. "Bounty Hunter?" Rex replied, raising an eyebrow. "Since when? I always thought you were more the off-the-grid type." "It's addressed to Jamie Chavez, one of my aliases. And Jamie's a legit hunter. Got all her paperwork and everything. She's got a Guild license, pilot's license, driver's license, and is a proud employee of Steele Bail Bonds. "Anyway," she continued, sarcastically adopting a formal tone as she read the message. "'Greetings Bounty Hunter... through your loyalty to what is right, and your efficient skills of the hunt, we of the Galactic Federation have deemed you as one of the select few to be entrusted with this most important mission.'" Grace couldn't suppress a giggle, and neither could Rex. This was obviously intended for those of high moral standing, a category to which neither of them could qualify. Not even close. "'Little information is known on the creature's true name or purpose, but what it called itself while being in Federation space is Twilight.' Hmm... I've heard of this guy Twilight. Supposed to be a real mysterious cat." "Like you, huh?" "Actually, the way I hear it, he ain't like me at all. He's supposedly an alien, or a robot, or a ghost, or something. Wears GFed armor, the heavy duty kind, only painted purple. No one's ever seen what's underneath the armor, so no one really knows what he is. Let's see, they're offering a million for his corpse, one and a half for a warm body." "You gonna take the job?" "Eh... probably not." Grace carelessly tossed the PDA aside. "Their price is kinda low, in my opinion anyway. Plus, I ain't exactly equipped for something heavy like this at the moment." Rex nodded. They'd both been traveling pretty light, as they tended to do, and when it came to weapons, they didn't have much. Between the two of them, they only had three pistols, a shotgun, Grace's knife, and the newly acquired Hydra Mark IV. If what she'd heard about Twilight was true, she might as well be carrying a slingshot. Still... that didn't mean it wasn't tempting. "Maybe I will," she said. "Haven't had some real work for a while. Could be fun." She reached for the pack of cigarettes on the end table and fired one up, passing another to Rex. "If I do take it... wanna come along?" "Come with you on the job? Well uh... I dunno about that. That kinda stuff, that ain't really my bag, you know?" Rex lit his cigarette, looking a bit confused. "I like to stay out of firefights. Probably why I never went into the family business." "Oh, come on. People shoot at you all the time." "Well yeah... but that's cause they think I'm cheating at poker. And when they do, they mostly use bullets, not big ol' ballbuster plasma cannons like you get shot at with. Besides... I get wasted, Jimmy'll kill ya." "Jimmy couldn't kill me, even if he wanted to. He won't have to, anyway. I'll take good care of you." She leaned over to give Rex a peck on the cheek. "So... how 'bout it?" Rex sat there and thought about it for a minute. He was never one for adventure. It was dangerous enough taking those desperadoes for every penny they had at the poker table. Truth be told, the prospect of him jumping into an actual battlefield scared him a little. Jimmy may have been bold and brash, with brass balls the size of coconuts. But Rex wasn't Jimmy. He didn't want any part of the gangster lifestyle... and he certainly didn't want any part of the kind of scrapes Grace got herself into. But then again, there was something about Grace's offer that was very, very tempting. Maybe it was the fact that she was only wearing a towel and the oh so sexy way her wet hair fell around her bare shoulders. Or maybe it was just because of sheer boredom. Whatever it was, a little voice in the back of his head was telling him to say yes. "Sure," he finally said. "I'll go." |
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| +CEMP+ | Dec 25 2008, 10:21 PM Post #5 |
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Clockwork Master
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For Jenosa, it felt like it had been years ever since that incident on that planet called SR388; a decade or so to be truthful. She really didn't actually care about the exact amount of time that had passed, and she really didn't care. All that mattered was how many things happened since then, and how much more she had changed over. Aside from meeting some odd acquaintances, she had learned a bit more about herself and her 'condition.' A lot of it was etched into her mind. Now and these days, things had returned to 'normal;' in other words, she had gotten used to what her 'condition' had caused to her body and mind. The longer periods without the normal of sleeping and eating habits of a human, and the extra 'senses' all had become a part of her life instead of a frightening enigma. She was actually starting to enjoy this a bit, letting go of the past memories of the joys of having a human body. What was done was done; she could do nothing right now to reverse the process. Having done this, she found herself actually focusing on the more positive aspects of herself, and the joys she got out of it. Life, as a dead 'friend' of hers put it, was unpredictable, in particular when you’re a bounty hunter. It was a filled with many more paths than one thought; and depending on the path, you'd either be left with nothing, or be filled with the joys and troubles of life. Jenosa, in a way, had found the latter. She had nearly gotten to settling down in the Galactic Federation space, getting a normal hunting routine done and now living a more decent life than she was before; calmer and less strange. It was almost like being back in the Confederation space; and that was the one thing she couldn’t get off of her mind. Even though the memories of those dead scientists were out of her mind finally (She didn't quite know where they had went), they had already left their mark. It was like all the dead souls of those Inos could still be felt inside of those corners of her mind. It was quite unnerving, and made it extremely difficult to fully settle down in this part of space. Every now and then, especially when looking back onto her bio-suit, she felt the both sadness and an unsung terror; the emotions of those that could have been saved if not Commander Kozan, the man leading the Confederation Military, had actually sent a rescue team sooner. At first, the loss of these people was nothing personal to her; just some kind of unfortunate accident. She mostly ignored the deaths at the beginning of her mission, but it was not to say that upon readings more logs and coming across the unfortunate personal, did she not feel a pang of sympathy for them. She did not leer down at the Commander for his inability to send reinforcements; she wasn't any military personal and I wasn't like she knew every single vessel's ware about. There could have been any number of reasons he chosen to only send her as a salvager, aside from the fast a lot of the equipment were many of the Commander's so-called 'experimental toys.' She did not want to get involved; she merely wanted to go on living, hoping that Kozan and the rest of his military would head the information she had given them about the Scurge and its sentience. However, the dormant memories that had awakened at a certain time had given her a more emphatic feel of these scientists’ experiences; to an extent. The memories were a little messy, and she did not have entire access to them. Most of the time, they would sporadically pop into her conscious. Now that they were gone (Or at least the major extent of them), she could think more clearly about the past. Despite her past decisions, she now felt like cursing the commander for not having dispatched a rescue team sooner. It was a behavior about herself that she found odd, and she couldn't quite figure out why she acted like this now. The pain, the feelings of those having lost their chance to see their loved one; it all echoed in the walls of her mind; and it haunted her. She slowly began to feeling a longing to go back to Confederation space; to tie up these unknown loose ends. And yet she was afraid, primarily because of her conditions and the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to hide it from them. More over, she had been gone for an extremely long time, and the Military often employed for certain cervices. Her lack of presence would definitely leave many questions on the Military. She found herself leaning one hand against the front window of her ship, staring off into the deep, black starry space; thinking about all of this. It was too difficult for to fully settle here when ghost of the past kept coming back; and yet she did not know how to deal with. She breathed in deeply and gave a sigh, thinking she should probably call her sleep on it and then call her 'doctor' tomorrow. Setting the A.I. to look out for any attackers, she took to her bed in her ship. And slept...while having the strangest dreams that, in some strange way, felt real. And familiar. It wasn't like any ordinary scenario that you would find yourself in, but more like a conversation where the two people talking with one another. Aside from the 'words,' there was a brief flash of a few images, and then what felt like orders. The strangest thing about this dream was that it seemed to actually happening. Further more, there was an alien but familiar sensation that came with every syllable and picture; a vibrant sensation, like that of her ability to identify specific energy like they were a scent. This 'scent' was also the 'sound of the voice;' what allowed for her to identify who was currently speaking...and in some odd way, sense that they were like her somehow. This little conversation, to her, last about ten minutes, and while she could not hear what all the 'words' were, it seemed to her that one of the speakers was being given orders by the other one. She missed most of the details, but the gist was there. The conversation ended like a military briefing, and in due time, Jenosa awoke. She had gotten weird dreams before, but she could tell there was something different about it from most. She rubbed her head for no reason, as if she had a headache, and then proceed back to the ship's cockpit. She placed a hand over the console to send a message to the doc, but her hand stopped an inch away from it. The dream - no, the conversation, returned to her, certain details in it becoming clear. She would have ignored it, except it felt so real, no matter how intangible the conversation was; more over, there was that ambivalent sensation of alienation and familiarity of the dream that caught more of her attention now. That, and how it was like she had just made a visit to Confederation space. It was too much of an enigma for her to ignore. She changed her mind about the doc; he could wait. She wasn't sure why, but it was probably the many feelings of suddenly being in Confederation space that made her change her mind. Either way... “Atu-3, here I come. Lucky for me, I’m not too far away,” she chortled to herself, forming a wryer smile. Maybe I’ll be there in time to find out what those ‘orders’ were all about. |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| +Aiko+ | Dec 27 2008, 01:44 PM Post #6 |
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Roffel House!
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<Server ping request 00-2198: IOC address 186AB9> <Delay .02 e-10 nanoseconds> <Incoming packet ID 8473AZQ8RS> <Download complete> <User 98 message> <Response sent> <User 145 message> <Unit 32 moving to location> The network was bustling with activity. Each message, prompt, and download formed a pulsing rhythm within the computer mainframe of Sanctuary’s massive artificial intelligence network. In ten years time, Sanctuary easily contained the most advanced hardware available in military and civilian markets, and at the heart of the machine was a single entity responsible for it all. Once human, now something else, the entity had changed and grown over the years. He still maintained his original avatar and basic personality, but ten years in real time was eons in the virtual world. With no need to sleep or eat, the entity had learned to cope with an unusual plague. Boredom. His crew provided great stimulation, but as the entity grew in size and strength, he had diverted his attention to other things. His knowledge base was huge now, although he was careful to keep the depth of his knowledge hidden from his friends and material companions. Being once human gave him insight into the otherwise difficult to predict human psyche, and it was because of this experience that others of his kind saw him as a mentor and leader. He knew that humans were intimidated by intelligences larger then their own, and he did his best to keep himself in check. He was already drifting farther and farther away from his original species, and he wanted to keep his heritage alive for as long as possible, and part of that original heritage was to keep watch over his friends. Hello Adam. Twilight here, I was unsure of how to reach Omega or Samus, so I thought I should perhaps send a message to you instead. In either case, I wanted to ask a request from Samus. I have been trying to track down the wherabouts of another surviving Ing, but it has avoided detection by me and I thought perhaps she and Omega could help in tracking it down and destroying it. I fear my power alone will not be enough to beat it... But we can discuss the details of this after we have joined up, unless of course she wouldent wish to do this, I would understand. In either case, I will stop on the way for a quick guard mission, I should be able to meet up with you in about a days time. Until then, good bye. Adam felt a distinct sense of pleasure from hearing from Omega’s old friend, but no longer did he have the unconscious urge to grin. He’d been without a body for so long that corporeal sensations were nothing more than fading ink on ancient documents. His HFI provided a means for him to communicate effectively with biologics, but the commands were completely different from the neurological orders a human gave their body. With barely an effort, Adam forwarded the message to Samus and to Omega. His response to Twilight was sent almost instantly. Not a problem. Good to hear from you. I let Samus and Omega know. Good luck, stay safe, and keep in touch. He went back to his work, accustomed to the long (in his frame of reference) wait between messages. It wasn’t long after that he received another message from the Federation. His rapid mind immediately made a connection. He tried and failed to regain contact with Twilight, but the Ing didn’t respond. There was no choice, and Adam found himself at the same time nervous and excited. Dormant systems whirred awake, groggily accepting commands until hardware had warmed and fluids flowed into dry lines. Living beings approached it in curiosity, wondering why it stirred. It gently guided them away, lighting transparent safety grids around it. Eventually the right humans approached, releasing locks and approving of the final flight path. The pad on which it sat rotated and drifted into the launching bay. There it waited for one last key. Adam made one last check of Sanctuary’s computer network, working closely with his second-in-command, and then resigned his responsibility to him. Slowly at first, Adam withdrew his grasp from the network, then did something that made him and his kind unique. He transferred his mind into the customized shuttle awaiting him in the launch bay. With one last check, Adam confirmed that everything was in order, and left Sanctuary for an adventure of his own. |
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| ~Twilight~ | Dec 28 2008, 08:17 PM Post #7 |
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Just... Kind of out there...
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"I see our friend the General, failed." Dr. Harris said, mostly to himself as he read the mission order that had been sent to several bounty hunters recently. But it was also directed to a shadowy sillhoutte standing just a few meters behind him by the wall of the half-circular room. "...Yes, it would appear the General did not heed your advice and use PED equipped soldiers for the ambush." The man which appeared to be in his late twenties said, his entire form was shrouded in a dark piece of cloth, and the few spaces visible in the already dark room showed an advanced grey body-suit, most likely used for stealth operations. "Indeed." Harris said as he reviewed the list of bounty hunters whom had been given the message. "Hmm, so he did send it to Mr. Khayorn, what a pleasant surprise. That man did a good job last time. I cannot help to notice how Samus Aran is not on the list, however." The scientist said in a questioning way as he glanced back at the shrouded man. "Yes, it would appear she was not notified. She may be the only one who could take on the Ing, but I think the General did not want to potentially bring up more trouble. Though she does her missions perfectly, many believe she distrusts the Federation government after the incident above SR-388." The man said, his voice remained formal throughout the entire explanation. "Heheh.. Yes indeed, the X incident, it seems the General is smarter than I gave him credit for. If we can just quarantine the target to Atu-3 it is just a matter of time until it is in our hands.." Dr. Harris said with a smirk on his lips as he pushed a button on the side of his chair, making it turn around with a whirr. "Thank you for the report, but your needed elsewhere now, Wight. Go and help the Bounty Hunters in locating the target, but do not interfere directly unless necessary." He ordered as he handed the shrouded man a data-disc. "Yes sir." 'Wight' simply responded as he took the disc, put it in a pocket under his cloak, and disappeared out the door without a sound. --- It had gone an hour since he had barely escaped the ambush... His attackers had worn federation armor, and used federation high-calliber energy rifles, the kind of weapon that worked well on him, but could easily be overkill on a normal person. They had expected him, and attacked at just the right time, it must have been a trap set by the federation. 'Seems... They discovered what I am... But, why would they...' He could not comprehend it, after all his years of serving the federation, he was now being hunted by them... He was largely confused about the whole thing, though he could understand that they would see an Ing as a threat, wouldent his services throughout the years have proven him to be 'good'? Atleast, thats what his knowledge of humans said, but of course, he could never completely understand them... With large gashes in his back, torso and limbs he had just barely made it into his ship and been able to take off. But even then, it had costed him to not kill the attackers when they managed to destroy one of the back engines, in the process preventing the use of the jump drive. He was forced to flee, but could not escape the planet. Even if he had his jump drive active, there was a large possibility of there being ships waiting for him there... With nothing else to do Twilight had taken his ship to the outskirts of the city, the area was less clean and more like a slum than a part of the rest, a place where he could hopefully meld in and hide, atleast for a while. Hopefully, his message had reached Samus and Omega, and that he did not contact or respond to them within a days time would tell them something had happened. But he could not send messages or even recieve them now, that could instantly reveal his location... Luckily for Twilight he had managed to find an abandoned workshop of sorts where he had been able to hide the ship, covering it with old blankets and some debris, before he found a dark corner to hide in. Though his life had not been much up until this point, he still had things he needed to do before he could die... And he had just gained a friend too. The metroid really took up a lot of Twilights thoughts, for some unknown reason he found himself wondering how he was doing, what he was up to at the time, and other such things which he did not truly understand. He was not accustomed to those sensations, and had to wonder if that was what it meant to 'worry' for someone... Well for now he had to rest up and recover his injuries, unlike plunt force or normal bullet type weapons, energy weapons left 'scars' in his body that took longer to heal, but from how many the soldiers there had been he had avoided the worst of it. However he was not sure how long he would manage to remain hidden, as they were most likely searching for him right now. He'd have to find shelter elsewhere soon, as it had been fairly easy to find this workshop for himself when he had been on the run. Luckily he must have managed to just avoid them, as they had been on his tail a few minutes prior to him finding it and landing inside there. Of course, he had no idea they had put a bounty on his head. OOC: Sorry for the time it took, been a bit sick this last week and havent been feeling up for posting anything much... I'll try to respond sooner in the future. Nightclaw, he is wearing a helmet. But I guess I should have given a clear description of him in the first post. Jefe, I'm not sure on the currency really, so I just picked something that sounded high, I meant it to be a ridiculously high sum for a single target ^^; But oh well. |
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| +CEMP+ | Dec 29 2008, 07:54 PM Post #8 |
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Clockwork Master
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A pair of fingers slid across the charred metal surface of the now barren but definitely battle ridden hanger. It was to, more or less, confirm to Jenosa in what she was looking at; but there was, without a doubt, that a battle took place here. Actually, it was more of a subconscious action to see if this was all real. She never doubted her sanity from the beginning, or where her 'nose' was taking her; she just couldn't help but do it. And probably for good reason. Standing in the hanger, observing her surroundings, she felt a surreal sensation flow onto her like a ghostly blanket. It was so odd that what she saw in that dream of her - if it was a dream at all - had some link to the real world. This could not, she thought with absolute certainty, be a coincidence. She had too much experience with this sort of mental situations to distrust herself The only thing was, how did she know? Memories? She immediately marked that idea out, as this felt way too recent? Another one was that she was developing these quack psionic powers? She didn't like the idea, but it was the closest she could get to theories. The problem was that she was no freakin brainiac scientist, and therefore she was quite in the dark about this mysterious phenomenon. The only thing she knew was that it had to be related to the Scurge virus in her veins. Feeling that was one of the obvious facts, she could only shiver at the idea of what was truly happening. Not because it meant another change to her physiology, but because it felt like something, or someone, was reaching out to- "Stay focused," she told herself, shaking her head to bring herself back to reality. You have no idea in what's actually going on, and barely have any clues. Clues, she mulled to herself. She needed clues as to what was really going on, and being a Sherlock Holmes was not one of her strong points. She could be quick and witty on some good occasions, and she wasn't dense; but she be damned if she had to look for the tiniest hint. All she saw was some scorch marks and a dead Gfed body or two. She sighed, and walked to dead guy, bent down...and felt something familiar. It was like a residue caught within all of the armor; a- The pictures that had been such a blur within her 'dream' became crystal clear along with a few other details; and they all spelled one word: "Twilight!" she said out loud, surprised at both the sudden 'revelation,' and at for this ambush was really for. She vividly remembered the conversation she had with him, and about both of their identity being revealed to one another. She honestly didn't know the guy personally...but, there was something that made her sympathize for the guy. So this whole thing was a setup catch you, eh? She looked up at the open entrance of the hanger, wondering - no, hoping that guy had evaded capture. She had so many questions all of sudden, and barely any path; and one other big motivator: her government. For so long, she felt like the Confederation was a distant country to her, but now, that 'dream' made her feel like her government was right here; as though a conspiracy was afoot. Strangely, all of this made those 'ghosts' in her head vanish; for once, she felt like she was doing something right. Having no leads, she set off into the city's rural area, assuming Twilight was still on the planet. She was dressed in regular civilian clothing, although underneath it all was a thin shirt and gray pants that, together, looked like a jumpsuit. The stuff was surprisingly resilient and acted like light weight armor. She also carried to holsters, each with a handgun of her favorite sort. It didn't take her long to see Gfed personal wondering the streets with the same high-energy caliber weapons, as if searching for someone. She smiled; it was a good enough clue to tell her that Twilight hadn't yet left the planet; and that wasn't yet captured. |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~Metamyth~ | Dec 30 2008, 12:24 AM Post #9 |
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BURMA
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There was a flash of light in the atmosphere of ATU-3 as Faulias's Ship warped in. He lurched forward as the G-Forces negated and the Artificial Gravitational systems kicked in suddenly. He growled at it, muttering under his breath that there was another thing he had to fix when he had time. Along with those particular calibrations that needed done, there was the broken Sparring Chamber, his bed in his personal room needed reinforced, and the drives in general were somewhat shaky. Well, he had time for now, didn't he? Entire peripheral ground scans would have to be done to track down Twilight properly, so he might as well make groundfall and occupy himself. Still in his training garments, he grabbed his detached Wrist Console node and began pressing some buttons. The ship's scanning systems began to look for a secluded spot to set down, and soon enough, they found an overgrown area out of range of civilization that would that would suffice. In fact, the only building that was even remotely nearby was an old abandoned warehouse. There didn't look like there was an opening quite big enough for his fighter, so he just decided to set down in the fields. After a few more button-presses, the ship changed course and plummeted toward ATU-3. The reverse thrusters flared up about half-way down, earlier than they were supposed to, nearly leaving him burning in the atmosphere until he took manual control and guided the craft down. The still-flaring thrusters scorched patches of grass below them, stamped out by the protruding landing appendages. The top hatch popped open, and Faulias, now decked out in a mechanic's outfit, jumped out, a toolbox in his right hand. Without delay, he opened the maintenance hatches and began his tedious task. He didn't know that he was barely secluded against who would look out the warehouse windows, and none the wiser that Twilight was even anywhere close to him. |
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"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way. Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants." Dresden Codak, Dark Science | |
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| ~The Boss~ | Dec 30 2008, 04:00 AM Post #10 |
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Native Son
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(OOC: Twilight - No no, that's fine with the price for the bounty. Just leave it as it is. I have this idea and... well, I don't wanna give anything away. Let's just say I have an evil plan to up the ante.) Contrary to popular belief, most criminal activity didn't take place in dark alleyways and old abandoned warehouses. Sure, they saw their fair share of shady dealings, but the truth was that most of the stuff took place out in the open, in broad daylight. If you knew where to look, you could find criminals just about everywhere, in seemingly legitimate places. The department store owner stocking his shelves with stolen goods; the garage that doubles as a chop shop; the bartender who moonlights as a dealer; the gun store owner who doesn't ask questions; and the ever popular "massage parlor." If you knew where to look, you could get just about anything. Such was the case with the Photo Hut on level 12 of the space station. They made the best fake IDs this side of Orion. And they definitely needed to get Rex some new credentials if he was gonna come along. Grace came out of the shop with a manila envelope containing Rex's new identity. He'd been waiting outside for what felt like forever. "Here's your new life," she said as she handed him the envelope. "Any luck with a ship?" "Yeah," Rex said as he looked through the documents. "I found a crew of smugglers that'll take us out there. They've got guns, and they won't ask too many questions." "Guns won't be a problem," Grace said. "We play this right, we won't need much more than we've got. How much they asking?" "Five hundred for each of us. That's not bad, I guess. Although I kinda got the impression that if they gotta help out with the job in any way, they're gonna want a cut." "If it comes to that, I'll take care of 'em. Outta my share. What time they taking off?" Rex looked at his watch, a solid gold timepiece which like his new weapon he had also won in a poker game. "Not till ten. It's six now, so we got plenty of time." "Great." Grace handed Rex a folded up piece of paper from her pocket. "Time to go shopping. I made a list." Rex looked over the items, supplies they would need for their trip. There were about a dozen different types of ammunition, most of it for weapons they didn't even have; two carbon nanofiber vests, along with Grace's size for easy reference; a high-powered sat-link radio; duct tape (this was underlined three times); and a whole list within a list of cleaners, solvents, and other chemicals from the hardware store, along with two pairs of latex gloves and two pairs of safety goggles. Rex had to think about those last items for a second, until he finally realized that Grace was probably planning on cooking up some homemade explosives. "You sure you didn't forget anything?" he asked sarcastically. "Never hurts to be prepared," Grace said. "Now come on, clock's ticking!" ......................... Four hours later, they had obtained every item on the list and Grace deemed their ammo supply satisfactory. Rex was still confused as to why they had bought so many rifle, sniper rifle, and submachine gun rounds when they didn't have any of those weapons. Grace once again assured him that weapons wouldn't be a problem. "There's another station not far from here... it's actually on the way to Atu-3. I used to have a condo there I used as a hideout, and I still have a storage locker. I've got some guns stashed away there. So what would be a three hour journey will be more like four and a half." The ship's crew helped to load their bags. They didn't have much... most of what they brought onboard were the supplies they'd been rounding up. Other than that, they really only had one bag each. They weren't going on vacation anyway. "I still don't get it," Rex said as the hatch closed and the engines fired up. "Why take this job?" "Why not?" Grace said with a shrug, as if that was supposed to answer everything. "Well... you said it yourself. Pay's not that great. Hell, I could probably get me more than a million just by turning you in to the cops. In fact, I wouldn't even need to go through that effort cause I could take that much at the poker table, easy. So what gives?" Grace smiled at him. It wasn't the ear to ear grin, the kind that Jimmy got, the kind she gave when she was trying to be cute. No, this was the grin that meant that the faint of heart should get out now and run as fast as they could in the other direction. It was the grin that meant the Grey Fox had a plan. "I think we can get more than a million outta them. A lot more. But that's besides the point." The cargo ship blasted out of the space station hangar and into the black. Their jump drives were flaring up, and in a matter of minutes, they should really be on their way. "The point is," Grace continued, "that doing the job is not the point. It's how you do the job. That's where the real show is." "Huh?" Rex still didn't understand. He was a good kid and a hell of a card player, but not exactly the quickest guy in the room. "Rexy baby," Grace said, putting her arm around his shoulder as they sat on top of a crate. "Pay close attention... you're about to get your first lesson in Grey Fox 101. This is my way of doing things..." |
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4:14 AM Jul 11