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Archeological Contracts (Open); Open Thread for Improptu RPing
Topic Started: Jun 21 2009, 02:49 AM (11,727 Views)
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Jenosa sighed as she cocked her head to one side at Ra's comment, "Please don't patronize me. It's been a very long day, I'm tired, and right now, my handgun should be the least of your worries. Rather, you might consider who dropped that EMP, because they're still hanging around in orbit; and I highly doubt their friends of yours."

"Which begs the question," she continued, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, "who are your friends? Doesn't look like you were here for interrogation, that's for sure; otherwise you'd probably would have told everyone else - oh yes, I asked a few people while you were asleep," she said with a smirk on her face, "including Bird of War, and right now, he's on his way and in a very bad mood. Something about a bunch of people in space wanting to steal his holy relics; the same group sent us that lovely EMP gift."

Her glare seem to emphasize itself when her surprisingly feirce, green irisises flashed a light blue. The effect was easily noticable in the darkened area of the tent, and was rather alien; it was quickly after that her eyes shifted downwards a bit, and whipped out her second handgun. She pointed it at where she momentarily saw a large energy blotch on his main body.

Her smirk widened, "I'm a bit tempted to see what happens when I shoot you in that area of your chest...but I'd rather you as functional as possible; unless you answer my question that is."
"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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“Actually yes, I do have several friends hanging in orbit”
Ra replied, very slowly straightening up and reminding himself of the gun quickly continued “but their ship does not carry any EMP based weapons. Nor do they have any fighter craft like those gunships.” Pausing he added “considering this tent is still standing I take it they dropped an EMP weapon rather than any high explosives.”

By this point Ra had recovered from the initial effects of the EMP, and having woken up facing a large pistol, and was less concerned with Jenosa’s questions than he was finishing his mission here and returning back to a shipyard where he could rearm and repair in peace. And not be sent out on these overly complicated missions having to deal with hunters or attempt to strike deals with loud, angry raiders. It eventually dawned on him that Nick was gone from the tent, and his staff was missing. Most likely by stolen by the man. It wasn’t a vital piece of equipment but he’d most likely be reprimanded for leaving equipment where it could easily be found by anyone in with ties to the Federation.

“Fine.” Ra replied half listening to Jenosa as he checked the rest of his equipment, making sure that nothing else had been looted whilst he was offline. “Actually you will have saved me a lot of trouble. I need to speak to the ‘Chozo’ away from the other freelancers, I assume you meant the avian, and as for the others... that depends entirely upon who they want dead more. Myself or whoever has just declared war upon them from orbit.”
He flexed his hand slightly, carefully moving it back and resting it upon his sword before continuing “As for my friends, as I said before they are currently in orbit. The last order I was able to give before the EMP wave hit was to destroy whoever had sent those gunships. One way or another we should be seeing the results of their engagement soon enough...“

He trailed off, frowning as he squinted at Jenosa. He could have sworn that her eyes switched colours as he spoke, it was certainly not a human trait nor that of any species he knew. Almost instinctively he’d begun to draw his weapon before forcing himself to stop, a wise move after she produced a second firearm pointing it at power display of his armour as it flickered back into life, the small screen glowing brightly green in the darkness. “If you want to know,” he replied slowly “firing there will either do nothing or will punch straight through my armour and hit my power core. The resulting explosion would kill us both. It depends entirely upon what you have loaded that pistol with.

Now, would you kindly tell me what you are? Certainly not human, fully anyway.“
"You can live forever or die trying."
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Jenosa narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Ra when he mentioned he wanted to speak to the chozo in private. "Ohhh I don't know about that. I can't say I trust you to do so, and I'm not even sure if the bird would decide to listen. We'll see what happens."

She then made a grimace at what Ra said might happen if she fired into his power core. "Who designs you guys? Lunatics?" she exlcaimed, "it's like everyone of you have to have some kind of bomb in you."

She decidedly shifted the gun up a bit to where a connection to the core might, hoping that she cut the part of the power off in a shot rather than directly hit it. She then raised an eyebrow in momentary surprise when Ra asked what she was, but she smirked when she thought she shouldn't be too surprise that Ra knew there was something different about her; probably had some kind of sensor she guessed.

Chuckling, she replied, "Trust me, I'm human. I might have a slightly different physiology - you could probably even consider me a kind of mutation - but I'm pure bonefide human. It's your just your imagination that's fooling you." By then, she began to hear a whistling noise; the telltale sound of of an object - or rather a ship - coming in for a crash. "Will you listen to that. I think that's the result of your 'friends' after their, so why don't we go out and avoid getting squashed."

She doubted she had to make any motion to get the point across.
"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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"I think your sister is bipolar"

Grace's comment, snide and offensive as it may have seemed to anyone else, sounded like a regular observation to Matthew. Like "the sun is shining," or "there is sand everywhere." And that observation sent chills down his spine. Immediately, he raised his left arm as if he were looking at a watch on his wrist. Pressing a button on the armor, a small LCD display of the time glowed aquamarine against a black background. It was right at the end of the hour-and-three-quarters time period that it normally took for Kathi's medication to kick in, well within the margin of error. Matthew sighed in relief and let his arms fall to his sides.

"Actually, she is," Matt admitted to Grace. "She's also-"

"I'm bipolar, schitzoid, and psychotic when I'm not on my medication," Kathi interrupted, getting defensive as she stepped forward. "Right now is when the last dose is starting to wear off, and the new dose is kicking in. In a few minutes, I'll be back to the annoying and impulsive girl I usually am."

Matthew put his hand on Kathi's shoulder, a silent gesture to tell her to calm down. As she twisted out from under him, she turned her head and glared at him for the display of affection, not realizing the irony of it. Her brother, however, didn't care about that. All he cared about was what he didn't see in her eyes, and that was traces of violet. Kathi's eyes were still pure blue. She wasn't in danger of going insane yet.

The siblings followed Grace as she spotted her partner and started walking over to him. Matthew nodded approvingly to Grace's comments about how she operated. Stun your enemies, distract them, then take the oportunity to accomplish your mission while they try to deal with the distraction. It worked quite well, the Marine officer had to admit, but he prefered the silent approach. Don't even let your enemies know you were there in the first place until you're long gone. He undecided about whether being a master of causing chaos or being a "ghost" was better, but that hardly mattered.

As Grace introduced the two Marines to one another, Kathi quickly slid behind her brother. She had heard him mention something about the guy being "the kind of person you wouldn't introduce your sister to," and knew damn well what that meant for her.

Matthew took the meeting a little better. "Fair enough," he said as he shook the hand of the very man he had been shot not two hours ago, his tone neutral. "Captain Matthew Bito, commanding officer of Tango Company, 543rd. Stealth ops." He kept a poker face as he noticed that Nick had obviously taken a beating from something since he had woken up from the tranq rounds.

As Grace mentioned that she didn't have a real plan, Matthew growled in frustration. Yes, there had been times when he was forced to abandon the plan he had for the mission and just go with the flow as the situation allowed, but he didn't like to, and the thing about all of those incidents that remained first and foremost in his mind was how Goddamn nerve-wracking they had been.

"Sounds like a decent plan to me." Matthew's thoughts were interrupted by his sister taking one step out from behind him and adding her thoughts to the conversation. She shrugged, a small smile on her face as she went on, "After all, it's not like I had a plan."

Matthew shook his head. Kathi would go along with this "plan" - if it could be called that even. She was still extremely impulsive, even when she was acting as an investigator. Occasionally, acting on impulse did good things for her, and it HAD helped her solve a few cases for the poice, but...

"So, you're going to wing it?" Matthew said rhetorically as he raised an eyebrow. The Marine let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "Whatever. Consider me in," he said, a tinge of defeat in his voice.

What he wasn't expecting was for Grace to ask him about Kaviori. He turned around and began pacing, thinking before he began his speech. "Kaviori is condsidered by most of the Marine Corps and Navy to be a traitor," he spat, his voice icy cold. "He's a deserter who left a perfectly good career in the Navy for reasons I don't know, and became a pirate. Nobody would have cared much about him if he had just accepted prison time, but he had to be a bastard and get a bunch of people to attack the convoy and get him out of jail.

"Now," Matthew paused briefly, his tone shifting to being more warmer, yet more defensive, "I know it's a little hypocritical of me to rag on another soldier for being a theif. I know full well what I am. However, what I do with my occupation and what I do with my personal time are two different things. Besides, the insurance company bailed on my family, and without 'supplemental income' we can't afford my sister's medication. Besides, look hard enough on the black market, and you'll be surpised at how many museum curators you can find buying. Makes me think they have some kind of rivalry with each other. Kaviori, on the other hand, is in it entirely for himself. Not saying that's wrong, but the fact that he stole an advanced Federation ship is. There's something about that I just cannot forgive. It hasn't helped that he's been avoiding Marine search parties and bounty hunters for years." Matthew steped back and crossed his arms as he finished. "That is why so many of us hate the guy. Even if he does-"

"Matt?" Kathi asked from behind her brother, a concerned look on her face. As he turned to face her, she continued. "As fascinating as that guy's history is, I think we have other problems to deal with first," she said sarcastically as she turned to look at something in the sky. Something still glowing from the heat of entering the planet's atmosphere. "Because whatever that is, I think we should worry about not being here in the event it crashes into the camp..."
Once, there was a maiden...
...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world.
So she tore out her heart, and made war against it.
In victory, she sealed it in a locket,
and trapped in a casting of bronze.
"Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said.
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Doctor Tholburne dusted off her clothes for a moment before walking out of her tent, looking at each of the hunters before looking at Jenosa.

"So what's the plan? I mean, I don't want anyone here to die, so I'm more than happy to go up there and talk to him but..." She said, her voice trailing off, obviously concerned about her father's previous work.

At this time, Z'Gato finally managed to calm down as his motor functions in his suit were slowly restored, and he looked over at the Doctor and the other Hunters, obviously not pleased with this turn of events. He walked towards the group, obviously angry, but he wasn't screaming at anyone anymore.
Marching to the Black Gates...
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Much of Jenosa’s comments had gone unheard, in fact the vast majority of what she was saying had gone largely unregistered by Ra. Instead he was attempting not to frantically look about the room at the realization that the red haired maniac of a woman in front of him was going to risk shooting him anyway. And even if he was fully operational Ra stood no chance of breaking the gun before she could hit the trigger.

“Right if you say so,” he quickly replied absent mindedly still looking for anything which could help him disable Jenosa hoping that something, anything in the tent could be used. His gaze was drawn to a number of excavation tools as they were knocked to the ground as the wind began to pick up, filling the tent with swirling dust. Most of them were large items, big energy cutters or sledgehammers, far too large to hide or bring round before Jenosa could fire but jutting up from just between the instruments was a small bladed cylinder. A laser scalpel, a joint design between a traditional steel blade and more powerful cutting tool.

Nodding Ra slowly turned and, somewhat unsteadily, began to head towards the exit before catching his foot on one of tools and stumbling face first onto the ground. The blade silently slid between the gap in his armour, slicing its way into the synthi-flesh and disappearing from sight. “Sorry,” he muttered to Jenosa slowly pushing himself upright “took more damage than I thought in that EMP.”
All he’d have to do now was make sure she didn’t notice the blood spatters before he attacked, the style she held her pistol in would leave most of the major veins in her wrist open to the scalpel. If he got this right she’d be too preoccupied to follow him as he escaped.
The wind continued to pick up, sand billowing between the tents, causing most of the archeologists to begin covering up their finds and the site itself. Ra grinned, any storm would give him at least enough time to grab a gun of his own before escaping. It then dawned on him that a number of the guards were looking skywards. Following their gaze he craned his neck upwards and caught sight of a familiar object.

A ship, his ship, was plummeting towards the dig site point first. Against the white glow of its hull there was the occasional flash of blue, almost unnoticeable and even as his voice began to yell a warning the Lightbringer activated its gatedrive.

Several miles above the heads of those in the site a single portal cut into the fabric of reality, widening it and creating a single opening to the vacuum of space. Hired guns and archeologists alike were picked up and hurled across the camp like rag dolls, the few standing tents torn from the ground as they were dragged up towards the sky. A few, mostly the luckier or more intelligent members of the group and thrown themselves to the ground, grabbing hold of anything solid enough to prevent them from bring dragged upwards. Many of those who hadn’t were quickly killed, either from being catapulted across great distances or torn apart by the whirlwind of debris as it was pulled into the gate.
Ra had been one of these unlucky ones, a portable generator pinning him to the ground and crushing one of his arms.

Far above them the Lightbringer accelerated into the gate, closing behind it leaving only devastation and broken metal.

--------------------

As his ship fell back into the void Shin silently wondered what the reaction of the enemy crew would be on his approach. He’d been slightly off with his calculations and was heading for the Claymore’s prow rather than its underside but they were still at more or less atop the ship in terms of galactic combat.

Even the best of them would only get a few seconds chance to fire their weapons and hopefully only that.
“Brace for bombardment,” Shin ordered, smirking as he thought of the reactions of the enemy crew “order gunnery units to fire when ready.”
Edited by Shin-Ra, Dec 31 2009, 08:33 PM.
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“Sorry,” Ra muttered to Jenosa slowly pushing himself upright after he tripped “took more damage than I thought in that EMP.”

"Right," she said with a suspicious tone in her voice and a furrowed eye brow. She payed keen attention to what Ra did as they walked out of the tent, completely expecting him to make an escape attempt of any sort. She didn't become an idiot after years of experience, and experience taught her that guy's like Ra would try it. The matter was reacting to whatever he threw at her, as it was difficult to tell what the android might pull on her.

Then again, despite all the troubles that she went through today, she was hoping she get the excuse to shoot him the chest. Granted, having the gun pointed at a bomb that was could blow up in your face was a rather scary thought, but she trusted her instincts enough that she could away from it. To hell she would actually blast the darn thing at this range, but it felt good to apply pressure to the android's situation with the bluff, even if it didn't psychologically affect him.

She narrowed her eyes at Ra's smile, taking it as a hint that he might just do what he expect him to do, and soon. Yet the craning of his neck and the sound of the incoming hip was enough to divert her attention, and while the blue flashes were barely noticeable to most people, she could, but as large, visible violet streaks that would flick here and there. She knew from long, good experience with this perception that if she could see that kind of energy at the distance she was – without barely focusing – it meant the ship was attempting to do something involved a lot of juice.

And she soon found out what it was as all of her hairs stood on end from a from a tingling sensation that went over her body like a wave; and then it like they were caught in a storm. Jenosa had barely any time to react and grab Tholburn's arm, and grab some bent pipe sticking out of the ground with her other arm; she had no idea who did the plumping but she was thankful for their hand. She just had enough strength to quickly pull the woman close enough to the pipe so she could hold

She struggled to keep hold with her tired body, going “God this day is just getting funner by the minute,” as she-

A piece of metal shrapnel, left overs from Fox's fire works, zipped across her shoulder and a part of her back like a saw. She yelled as pain pierced her mind, and she barely had a chance to brace herself before a more blunt, metallic object – she didn't have any time to recognize it – grazed her face and struck the same shoulder with enough to seperate her from the pipe. She felt herself get yanked into the air and spin, but unlike most of the other people who had been launched, she had stayed to the ground long enough for her flight not to be lethal.

Still, she went a good distance before landing painfully, rolling along the sand and getting many bumps and bruises from the small rocks that protruded from the sand. She felt pain prickle all over her body, especially from the sand that had entered her new wound, but she ignored it as she slowly sat up and check that her body didn't have any broken bones. It didn't, although getting herself orientated, she wondered how everyone at the camp was fairing. She took out her comm – only to pause when she saw the body of someone that she was sure wasn't in their camp; in fact, he looked to be a pilot.

This fact immediately grabbed her attention, and she stood up , feeling her legs quiver from the fatigue and battering her body was going through. Not too far off, she noticed a crashed ship that resembled one of the fighters that had delivered Tidus's 'dinner invitation.' And judging from the rise of the person's chest, they were still alive; to this, Jenosa smiled in fortune.

When the pilot woke up, they would notice their helmet gone, and their own gun in their face being wielded by a red haired woman with blood caking her shoulder. Jenosa had lost her handguns in the flight, which was a shame because she really like them.

“I suggest you start moving and start talking, because I just had a rather bad day,” she spoke with a wry smile.
"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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Second-Liutenant Carra had the bridge after the Captain and First-Liutenant left, and as such was standing in front of the display board, reading various data scripts and information bubbles that scrolled across the semi-transparent, blue-hued board. A flicker of motion beyond the board caught his eye, and, as he stepped around it, red warning lights began flashing in time with a low siren, indicating a potential collision alert. A jump gate ripped through the space in front of the Claymore, one that wasn't generated by the ship itself. "W-Weapons front!" the startled officer called as a ship, the same ship that had been in orbit before, emerged directly in front of the large cruiser.

"Status, Mister Carra," chimed the bridge's com unit, the slightly-annoyed voice of Kaivrori flitting through the speakers.

"The ship from before, sir," the man said, watching as the turrets on the hull began rotating to face the enemy ship. The plasma turrets arrived on their mark first, quickly powering up as the lumbering Gauss cannons hurredly tried to match their pace. "She's jumped right on top of us!"

There was a noteable, thoughtful pause, one of likely anger and further annoyance. "Blast it out of the sky."

"Open fire!" The plasma turrets began blasting their energy payload onto the hull of the enemy ship, putting as much destruction out as fast as they could fire. The Guass Cannons, however, remained frozen in space, despite having rotated to aim directly at the enemy ship. "What's wrong!? I said open fire! You can't possibly miss!"

"The ship is too close to use the cannons sir," a deckhand called out, a nervous look on his face. "If we fired now, the ensuing explosions would damage the Claymore." Carra swore, holding his breath as he watched the ship getting hit by a few plasma rounds. 'What are you up to...' he thought to himself, gripping the railing of the bridge so tightly that his knuckles were white.


-------------------

He wasn't dead, that was for damn sure. Everything hurt to much for him to be dead. Unless, of course, he was in Hell, in which case, he was already screwed. Pilot Rick Elrand's heart was beating weakly, his head throbbing with each pulse as a raging migrane threatened to split the man's skull in two. His body shuddered as he let out a wet, hacking cough, tasting copper; something was bleeding inside, he knew.

Slowly opening his eyes, everything was blurry, corners fuzzy and distorted. Almost slipping back into unconsciousness, he tried to move his arms to wipe his eyes, only to be blocked from doing so. Great, he thought, I broke my spine or something. As he continued to move, though, he realized he wasn't paralyzed, but rather restrained. Not a good sign. Fighting away the fog in his eyes, the man slowly moved his head from hanging in front of him, glancing up at a person in front of him. Blinking a few times, his vision cleared enough to reveal a woman, holding a gun. His gun. Pointed at him. Looking around, Rick realized that he was tied to a chair, in a hastily-erected tent somewhere. Memories coming back, he recognized that the tent looked a lot like the ones from the camp-

"Ahh, fuck," he muttered dryly, peicing together what must've happened after he blacked out.

“I suggest you start moving and start talking, because I just had a rather bad day,” the woman said, her voice unnaturally loud to his pain-induced hightened sense of hearing. Despite his exhaustion and pain, he tiredly looked up at her, feeling a dull tingling along his face as blood ran out the side of his mouth.

"Well, I guess everyone's having a shitty day, huh?" He let out another, hacking cough, wincing as he felt a burning pain tear through his chest and abdomen. He was in rough shape. His vision blurring again for a moment, he forced himself to lean back in the chair, looking at the woman. "So...what d'you wanna talk about, sweetheart?"


"Fatalis Maximus"
 
Hey, just because you're anthropomorphic doesn't mean you can have three thumbs, you bastard.


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When the dust settled over the camp and the debris had all landed, the pair of raiders who had started this whole mess slowly emerged from their hiding place underneath the wreckage of one of the cranes. The twisted machinery shielded them flying objects, and they secured themselves to the crane with their belts, a trick Grace had seen in a tornado movie, and that Nick had actually performed once before.

"Goddamn alien FTL drives," Nick grumbled as he got to his feet, his injured ribs loudly protesting. "Can't just build a simple jump engine. Nooooo, they gotta tear a fuckin' hole the size o' Houston in the goddamned fabric o' the universe. Fuckin' xenos."

"You don't gotta get all racist about it," his partner quipped as she nonchalantly dusted herself off. She was truly unflappable, or at least she appeared to be. On the inside, she was breathing some massive sighs of relief. She hadn't been looking forward to being swept up by the vortex and tossed against the rocks for a gruesome but possibly quick and painless death. "Those were some pretty slick moves there, old man." Grace was about to nudge Nick in the side, but stopped mid-motion as she remembered his injuries.

"I ain't as washed up as you think I am. I'm just lucky I didn't hurt myself any worse."

"Yeah..." Grace replied, thoughts of her knee drifting into her mind. Could've easily been torn up in that mad scramble to safety. And then... probably more surgery, more long rehab, and who knows what kind of chances that she'd still be the same after that. Assuming they got out of here alive. Always a big assumption to make.

Brushing aside all that stuff, Grace scanned what was left of the site, trying to spot Matt and Kathi.
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~Previously...~

An alarm went off in a fairly bland room, gunmetal gray in all aspects except for the sturdy wooden bed with white bedsheets, and slowly, a massive hand reached up and pressed the red button by the bed that disengaged the frustrating, pulsing siren.

Faulias Kayhorn sat up slowly, the old-fashioned bed creaking slightly under his bulk as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Gently (at least, as gently as possible with his massive hands) he wiped the sand from the corners of his eyes, yawned, then pushed himself out of bed. He'd had trouble sleeping the previous night, and had little bits of a dream stuck in his head. The dream was stereotypical, one where he was falling without control, with no end in sight. He'd had them often when he was younger, as he used to have a desperate fear of falling...

...and he still did, but only slightly.

Pushing the dream to the back of his mind, he walked over to his suit, propped up like there was still someone inside on his armor stand, and took his wrist-computer into his hands. There had been reports of mercenaries and other individuals gathering on Gamma-Seven-Niner, at the edge of the Orion-Ysn Cluster, and rumors of strange relics being found - or at least sought - there. Artifacts... he thought to himself. Artifacts are worth a lot of money...

Naturally, once this thought popped into his head, his course was set toward G79 soon after. He set his alarm to wake him on arrival, and plotted a course to take his time getting there. Automatic defense algorithms were activated, and Faulias went back to sleep.

~Soon after arrival at the edge of the Orion-Ysn Cluster...~

The alarm blared once again, and in the same manner as before, Faulias' massive hand reached up and prodded the button into silencing the aggravating noise. Checking his Wrist-Comp, he saw that he was only a few minutes from planet fall. He hadn't picked up that there was massive infighting on the other side of the planet as he had decided to enter the atmosphere at a gradient angle rather than straight down or close to it. It would give him a better view of the planet surface... which was pretty similar all over. Dry as hell.

Coming through the atmosphere, a pair of massive cruisers locked in battle came into view over the distant horizon. In the distance on the surface, he briefly got scans of activity, most likely the other mercenaries. Faulias had little time to react, however, before the EMP on the surface reached his one-man spacecraft and relinquished all of control of it from him. The ship began to fall from the sky, quickly approaching the ground at a dangerously severe angle. Finding that his falling dream had come true, Faulias tugged hopelessly at the controls, trying to get the craft to pull up, but the entirely-electronic systems of his ship wouldn't respond until only a few seconds from impact.

He gained control over the 'rudders' of his ship in the last few seconds, allowing him to pull up a bit before impact, causing the ship to skid along the planet's surface rather than plunge directly into the ground, which would most likely have killed him outright. As the useless wreck scraped across the sands to a halt, there came a sudden calm as the thrown-up sand settled. As the last grain fell into place, however, the door was kicked off, and a very displeased Faulias Kayhorn stepped from the craft in his tightsuit.

He jumped down from the craft, the door-less hole raised into the air, and reached back into it from the ground, pulling something behind him. As soon he had managed to lug his currently-useless suit out of the door, he began dragging it behind him, trekking through the sands toward the people he had seen before. Luckily he had only managed to land about three kilometers from where Jenosa, Rick Elrand, and Ra resided, but without the stamina boosting qualities of his suit (and having to drag it behind him as well) it would still take him some time to reach them. They would most likely have heard and felt his ship go down, so he carried his rifle in his hand that wasn't pulling his suit along. All the while, jogging through the sands, he was muttering in a dark and ominous tone...

"God-Forsaken Mother-F*cking Ass-Licking Cock-Mongrel EMP... I'll kill the son-of-a-bitch that did it... Swear to god..."
Edited by Metamyth, Jan 24 2010, 01:55 AM.
"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."


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