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Archeological Contracts (Open); Open Thread for Improptu RPing
Topic Started: Jun 21 2009, 02:49 AM (11,720 Views)
~The Boss~
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Native Son

Fuzzy... things were very fuzzy...

Grace's eyes slowly fluttered open. She had been drifting in and out for several minutes now, but never getting above the surface until now. She felt herself being dragged across a metal floor...

And lights. Bright lights.

"Hey..." she muttered, her eyes finally open. A armored hunter whose identity was familiar but didn't quite register just yet had her by the foot. "Hey," she repeated, a little louder this time. "What're you doing? I can walk, you know. Let me go, let me go!"

She kicked at him with her free foot. A futile gesture, but she couldn't do much else.

.....................

Nick groaned as he opened his eyes, the second time today he had been out. His personal record on a single job was five, so he still had a long way to go in that department. He barely had time to see a blur though, before he heard a voice squealing in his ear and the life being squeezed out of him.

"Dad! You're awake!"

"Well I won't be for long if you keep squeezin' me!" He practically had to force Casey off of him, but he saw the concern all over her face. He ran a hand through her hair, knowing that if the shoe had been on the other foot that he would have been a useless pile of nothing right about now.

"Y'okay?" he asked, and she nodded vigorously. "How's the bird?"

"Totaled," Casey replied. "I think we left one of the engines about a mile and a half back that way."

"Well, we're both in one piece, and that's what matters." Nick looked around, surveying the damage. There was a huge hole in the roof, and the windshield was all smashed, as was no doubt the nose, but other than that there wasn't much he could see from the inside. The flight panel didn't look in too good of shape though, and without an engine they weren't going anywhere.

"Shit, where's the bag?" He undtrapped himself form the co-pilot's chair and frantically searched around the trashed ship, his mind picturing the duffel bag being sucked out of the ship and valuable artifacts flying out all over the place as they fell back down to the ground. Finally he saw it wedged underneath one of the seats, but it would take a few minutes for his heart to stop pounding.

"So what do we do?" Casey asked.

"Well honey we ain't stayin' here." Nick grabbed the bag and searched the place for a weapon, eventually finding an assault rifle. An ammo box had slid all the way to the other side, so he grabbed it and stuffed a few spare clips into his pockets. "But maybe if we're lucky we can steal one o' them bounty hunters' ships."

"What about Grace?"

"All we can do is hope she got her ass outta there." He looked up at Casey. She was trying to put on a brave face, but Nick could tell how worried she was. "She's a survivor," he reassured her. "She made it out. Now c'mon. Stickin' round here ain't gonna do her or us any kind o' good."
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~Deadly Aim~
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(OOC: lol, I didn't exactly mean that when I said dragging, but okay!)

Travis watched the foot bounce off his shields.

"Alright then, if you can walk, then stand up and get in there." He said, pointing his now free right arm at her, giving the woman a good look down the barrel of his weapon. "Or would you prefer that I just shoot you and leave you for a mortician at the nearest city, because your actions so far have me aggravated enough as it is...?"

The ramp had closed up behind Travis at that moment. She had nowhere to run now, and the only company she had was an angry bounty hunter who apparently now had her by the foot.

"Your choice. I normally don't do this but considering a comrade of mine is laying dead right over there no thanks to you, I just might make an exception to the rule."

Edited by Deadly Aim, Jul 11 2010, 11:59 AM.
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~The Boss~
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Native Son

Grace picked herself up off the floor, straightening herself out and getting right up in Travis's face. Literally, only inches away from his face plate.

"If you had any balls at all," she sneered, "you'd have shot me already." She pivoted on her heel and marched right into the cell, slamming the door shut herself and plopping down on the bench.

Something Clark had said stuck in her mind. But considering a comrade of mine is laying dead over there no thanks to you... she looked over at the body lying on the bed. It was Jenosa, fatal stab wound in her side clearly visible. Having been knocked out, Grace didn't know until this moment that she had killed her.

"Sorry 'bout that Jen," she said under her breath. Travis might not even hear her.
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~Deadly Aim~
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Hmph, if you say so, though that would make me no different then you, a killer for hire. Hope you liked seeing daylight because where -you're- going you aren't going to see it for a long time." Travis grunted as he watched the woman walk herself into the cell.

He walked up to the console as he heard the cell doors lock with a series of beeps and clips. And for good measure, he shut the window too, making sure to turn on the accelerated air circulation so his prisoner wouldn't suffocate. He did not wish to speak to this woman at all if only because he didn't wish to further inflame his anger.

"Faulias," He said through a speaker system. "Get on board, you can make use of my munitions."
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~The Silver Fox~
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Just your friendly neighborhood Section 2 agent!
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One second, Matthew was watching the heavens fall on the dig site from the front of his ship. One flash of light later, and he was plunged into a cold, damp darkness. For a second he thought he was dead, but as his eyes adjusted to the low light, he could make out the rough texture of stone walls that surrounded him. Glancing about, he saw Tholburne and his sister right next to him, both as stunned by what had just happened as he was.

Of course, the disembodied voice that then filled the room, energetic as it was, didn't exactly help Matthew's nerves, though it did tell him there was someone who cared enough to save their lives. As the voice explained the situation, Matthew glanced back at his sister. Kathi was so good at figuring things out, she probably knew where they were and why before the voice had even started talking.

What he saw on his sister's face, however, wasn't the smug smirk he had been expecting. Instead, she was pale, her eyes wide in terror and darting back and forth faster than a []. As the door opened and Tholburne stepped forward, Matthew quickly slid over to his sister's side.

"Get it out of my head..." Kathi whispered. She trembled in her brother's arms like a leaf in a storm. "I can still it hear it echoing in my head..."

"Shh...It's just the echoes, Kat," Matthew whispered soothingly back to her. "Just the echoes." In truth, he didn't know if the echoes had set her off, or if she was really starting to hear things. All he could do was try to comfort her.

The room that "Jidan" voice had led them to was much more open than the one they had arrived in. As they and the few remaining dig crew members entered from opposite sides of the room, it's previous occupant seemed less than enthused. And the way he started barking orders all over the place succeeded in pissing the Marine off like nothing else.

"Alright, who the fuck put you in charge here?" Matthew retorted, folding his arms over his chest and showing off the Desert Eagle that still hung by his hip. "I'm not budging until we know where all our pieces are. And besides that, we're talking about Kaviori here. I don't know if you know who he is, but there's one hell of a lot of people who want that man brought to justice, not the least of which are Federation Marines like myself. I don't want some idiot spooking him off and making him run for cover before we get a shot at bringing him in."

Turning away from the man, he spoke to what he assumed was the AI Jidan had spoken of. "Would it be possible to get a message out to the Federation from here? As I told your friend, the man shooting at us is on the Federation's list of 'most wanted' individuals, and capturing him and his ship would likely be in our best interests."
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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~Metamyth~
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BURMA
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After what seemed like Faulias growled at Travis's response. "Fuck the ship, Travis! My ship wouldn't take but a few minutes to repair! All that happened was that damn EMP, and..."

Fists clenched, he stopped himself. "You know what? Forget it. Take Jenosa, give her what she deserves, and beat the shit out of that woman for me. If a working ship is what you have to have to get anything done around here, then I'd better get working." He stormed off as Travis' ship rolled in, indeed one of the few left functioning after multiple catastrophic occurrences.

Only about ten paces later, he managed to find his wrist computer, still intact, near the wreckage from his suit. He decided to pick it up and carry it with him, as it was most likely the only thing he would be able to salvage. Behind him came a call from Clark's PA system outside the ship: "Faulias. Get on board, you can make use of my munitions."

With his wrist computer, now reattached to his wrist with a few leather straps on the back rather than the cables that would have tied into his suit, he connected himself to Clark's personal comm system in his suit. "That's a negative, Travis. You've got shit to do, remember?" With that, he cut the comm and began to walk away from the craft.

The sand was still stirred up from the earlier explosion, and it stung his eyes as he trudged across the dunes. It still burned his feet and buffeted his now-exposed skin. All he could see was sand, everywhere. At least, until he topped one of the taller dunes and gazed out from its peak. Partially submerged in the sands ahead was a very familiar craft; particularly, the one that Nick had jumped into prior to the catastrophic event that tore everything apart.

What goes around... he thought to himself.

Suddenly, he remembered something he had said to Jenosa, before her passing. I should've been there, should've been done playing around with that asshole and been there to help, before this happened...

...should've been done playing around with that asshole...

...should've been there... to help...


A wicked grimace crept across his lips as he clenched his fists, so tightly they felt fit to burst. He began to work his way down the dune, sliding painfully on the hot, callous sand, instantly breaking into a run as he hit the bottom. The ship was his target, and more specifically, the two people hopefully still inside it.

It took only a short while to traverse the gap between the dune and the ship itself, much worse for wear than what it originally appeared. Faulias could hear some activity inside, like the two were still alive. He began to formulate a plan, but was cut off as the two slowly stepped out from the ship. He quickly dodged into a crevasse to avoid being seen.

Nick, whom looked worse for wear from the crash, was armed with an assault rifle, so there was little chance he'd have a shot at him hand-to-hand. Looking him over, it was obvious that Nick had been treated about as badly as Faulias had, even within the safety of his ship. The two were most likely both feeling the same amount of pain: immense. But, Faulias shrugged off what he could, much like what Nick had been doing. The girl, however, while still in better condition than the two of them, was still small enough to take out easily, but she was just a little girl...

In that instant, an idea popped into his head. Having lurked in the shadows long enough, he lunged out, tackled Casey in a rolling lunge, and brought her out in front of him, her neck nestled in the inside of his elbow held fast against his rock-hard, bloodied chest.

"Well, hello, Nicky!" Faulias growled. "Is it the 'next caper' already? And here I thought I wouldn't be seeing you so soon."

(OOC: If there's any problems, Boss, lemme know)
"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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~Jedi~
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JP between myself and CEMP


There were several heartbeat's worth of silence among the bridge, the air hanging remarkably still as all eyes rested upon the planet below. "It's...a direct hit, sir," Lieutenant Voree's voice echoed startlingly among the bridge, the only thing interrupting the silence. The silence almost settled in a moment later when a loud, slow clap echoed across the ship's command deck, eminating from Captain Kaivori himself. The man stood in front of the command island at ease, his hands coming together and ringing a little slower than every second. The First-Lieutenant chewed at the tip of her lower lip slightly, turning away.

"Very good, Miss Voree, very, very good." The AWOL Naval Officer studied the information silently flooding the screens in front of him, taking in the scale of what they'd accomplished just now. "We're well on our way, ladies and gentl-"

"Sir, we've got an incoming transmission from the planet," one of the deckhands said almost as soon as a small buzzer began toning.

"Oh, hello there. It certainly seems I pissed you people off by accidentally going into your systems, but I'm presuming apologies won't be accepted."

The voice was a foreign one to Captain Kaivori's ears, but there was something...unique about it as well. "That all depends. To whom am I speaking? Can't say I recognize your voice."

"I wasn't expecting you to. The name's Profesor Derad Aundre. I take it you're the Kaivori Captain we've heard so much about."

While normally he would've likely chuckled at the man's incorrect attempt at speaking, the way he spoke -- the spirit of the words and how he went about using them -- was almost off. * "That's -Captain Kaivori-, thank you. To what do I owe this..."pleasant" little conversation?"

"Oh lets see - you trying to glass several innocent people would be one. Y'know, I'm curious, are you really that greedy and sick to trouble a couple of civilian's lives for money, or is there something else that I'm missing?"

Even though it was only a voice-to-voice communication and presented no visual cues whatsoever, Kaivori felt his glare harden a little and his mouth press into a thin line. "Well, excuse me, I'm just trying to be civil. I didn't provoke or hurt anyone before that blast; that ship wasn't mine, and I know damned well what happens when someone tries to make a jump gate inside of an atmospheric presence. I gave the archeologists plenty of warning, and yet they - or should I say, you - try to hack into my systems anyway." The Captain paused for a moment, compiling his thoughts as well as letting what he said sink in. "Also, I'd not intentionally harm anyone in the dig site. The objective of thoses blasts was to -dig.- Though, if they happened to be harmed, that's just an unfortunate coincidence."

"Bite me!" spat Derad, seethign with venom. "You're fully aware that there are people down here, but being all cozy on your ship with a gourment dish gives you little awanress of what's trully going on down below. I have no idea what ship you're talking about, and I merely stumbled into your ship when my mind got shoved into the ruins computer network." Derad knew giving away information was foolhardy, but Kaivori would have already been aware of the energy build up going on the surface.

Check Kaivori thought to himself, the right corner of his mouth dipping up into a small smile. He's an AI then...that'd explain his odd nature, especially if he's an older model. What's more, he's the one controlling most of the system, which explains why he could even contact me in the first place...

"And to be quite frank, the mere fact that you threatened us in a 'civlized' manner makes you no different from a tyrant."

"Everyone has their own opinions. I'm providing a livelihood to my crew, and your associates are doing the same by trifling through the tombs of a dead race."

Derad gave a disgusted snort, "A livelihood that appears to disrupt other's livelihoods. How fine."

Kaivori rolled his eyes slightly, moving the transmittor away from his face. "Lieutenant Voree, I want you to prepare and accompany a landing party near the crater. See what you can find." He spoke the last word with an emphasis, pointing towards the speaker system. The First Lieutenant nodded solemnly, slowly standing and removing her headset. She gave a salute, which Kaivori quickly returned, before removing herself from the deck.

Kaivori was about to resume talking when another alarm sounded. "Sir, the enemy ship, it's-"

"I see it, Ensign," Kaivori said, reading even know some of the information that was being broadcasted. "Block that signal. Now. Derad then noticed the transmission himself, and he knew that while this place could pose a threat, there was no telling how decayed some of these systems were. Almost immediately he - and another fragment of himself - reacted by doing what they could with what they knew about their own transmission systems (How he even understood some of these system's language at all he didn't know). He used the planet's own transmission system to try and act as a amplifying reflector, letting the original signal bounce off of the base with greater strength. Hopfully, that it would enable some of the message to get through.

The alarm ceased a few moments later, and Kaivori, after sitting down and taking a small sip of wine, brought the transmitter back to his mouth. "Say what you will. I don't necessarily care -how- I get my due, so long as I do."

"You didn't sound like a man with morals," Derad stated in a stiff, matter-of-fact tone. "Quite honestly, I'm wondering just how far you will go to get what you want; or more over, who's willing to follow you on that notion. But at the moment, I doubt that question is relevant for any of us. Goodbye, but don't expect this old, dead man to go out without a fight," he said before cutting off the signal.

Kaivori huffed and shook his head slightly. "Oh, don't you worry, Mister Derad," he said softly, even though he was no longer in contact with the man, "I have no intention of it.

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

About half an hour later, a mid-sized, black-and-red painted Pelican dropship skimmed over the planes of sand, escorted on either side by a pair of Reaver fighter-bombers. The aircraft neared the digsite, and the Reavers split off, each flying a separate route around the crater to search for signs of activity while the Pelican touched down in what used to be the camp. A group of six marines quickly flooded out, weapons raised and slowly panning the area until they were assured it of being secure. A Naval officer, much more obvious than the marines, stepped out of the dropship, glancing up at the dark, starry night sky. "What did we get ourselves into," she said softly, a stray gust of wind blowing a few strands of hair into her face. She tucked the rebeliousness behind her ear and glanced over the now-wrecked camp, before nodding slightly to no one in particular. "Alright, spread out. We'll move towards the crater once we have a stable support zone. Move."


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


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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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As the comm went dead, Travis gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes pensively.

(I'm sorry, Faulias, I know this can't be easy for you right now, but-)

An alarm went off on the Arctic Storm's console, bringing Travis' attention from his suit diagnostics as his shields fully recharged.

["Um... oh dear..."] Constantine began, as if heavily apprehensive. ["Travis, we have company..."]

"As suspected. Are they from the large craft in orbit over the planet?" He said, flexing his arms and rotating them in a full circle to stretch.

["I'm not entirely sure if they are, they could be more bandits arriving to investigate the light show..."] Constantine's brow stiffened within his domain, running a hand passively through his long whispy beard. ["But we should not rule out that possibility."]

"Hmm..." Travis folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head forward in his chair, a habit he had while thinking.

["What are you planning, Travis?"]

"We can't let them set up a stronghold, and using the ship is too risky, we don't know the extent of the large ship's range." The hunter began, tapping his fingers on the chair. "But at the same time if we don't do something the others and we as well are likely to end up dead. And I still..." -he trailed off, pausing as his eyes fell gently over Jenosa's corpse- "... have a favor to do."

["... you plan to go on foot, don't you."]

"I do." Travis said, standing up and stretching. "Why, any objection to that?"

["Well. aside from it being somewhat risky, you'll need to be careful. The radar is still being slightly jammed by the EMP, so I cannot give you an accurate count on the enemy."] Constantine picked up his pipe and reached for a stick sitting in a vat of special oil, swiping it on a special patch of rough material to light the match, then his pipe (in that order). ["Is there anything that you wish of me, Travis?"]

"Move the ship into a canyon with a cave and keep in contact with Faulias. It's best that we let the enemy think you and the ship don't exist."

["I had a feeling you'd say this... very well, I will stay hidden under cloak and wait."]

"Alright then. Good. Make sure you warn Faulias of the danger, it's dark so he may not be aware."

Travis stood up and pushed his hand against a pad, the walls sliding back to reveal a full arsenal of rifles, pistols, shotguns... it was a weapon specialist's playground. Reaching in, he pulled out a FSRS48C-R2 AM sniper rifle, modified to include a silencer.

["Oh... THAT, huh?"] Constanine's brows bushed up.

"Yeah... call it cheezy, but maybe they need a reminder of the fact that Deadeye is down here..." Travis said, loading a cartridge of ammunition into the weapon.

With that, Travis slipped into the night onto the sands. The Arctic Storm and the hunter seemed to fade into the darkness, then vanish, Travis using the night as natural cover and Constantine putting the ship under cloak.

Deadeye was on the prowl.
Edited by Deadly Aim, Jul 19 2010, 01:12 PM.
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~The Boss~
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Native Son

"You son of a bitch..."

Nick dropped the duffel bag and pointed his assault rifle at Faulias, rage coursing through every muscle, every nerve, every bone in his body. Casey didn't make a sound, she just stood there held tight in the bounty hunter's grip. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were full of terror.

"I'll make you a deal," Nick said. "You let her go, and I promise, I'll kill you quickly. But you so much as give her a bruise... well just use your fuckin' imagination. Your choice, pal."

......................

"Oh good lord..." Grace muttered, rolling her eyes at Clark's weapon of choice. A favorite of Jimmy's, incidentally. She doubted she could even carry that rifle, let alone fire it. "Does every guy just instinctively grab the biggest gun within reach? You can't all be that insecure."

She watched as the hunter walked out of the craft and into the night. The hatch closed up by itself and she could hear the locks seal shut, as well as the sound of another device humming to life which was probably the aforementioned cloak. Nothing left to do but get comfortable. She wasn't going anywhere for a while.

Grace took off her jacket, revealing the sleeve of tattoos that covered her right arm, and stretched out on the bench. She started thinking, trying to get used to the idea of incarceration. Jimmy did four years after Clark caught him. Four years. And that was because he'd skated on the murder charge.

She lay there on the bench for a minute, then grabbed her jacket, digging around in one of the pockets for a second. Her hand brushed up against a few other objects until she finally found what she was looking for; a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Hey you," she said as she lit up. "Mr. Computer, I'm talking to you. I know you're watching, and it's a little creepy, to be honest.

"Your boy is walking into a trap. I just thought you should know that."
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["Well I'm sorry to put you off, miss, but that comes with the cell."] The disembodied voice said as a hologram flashed into existance before the woman, taking the form of an elderly man clad in brown monastic robes. His beard was long and white as mountain snow, and a pair of spectacles laid upon the bridge of his nose. For something so advanced he gave off the impression he was a relic of an age long gone by.

Without so much as asking, the almost ethereal image took a seat next to Grace.

"Constantine is my name. I find it interesting that you say that... Travis knew it was a possibility but as long as his commissioner is alive he will not leave the planet. But I ramble... what makes you think they are setting the table for him? I in no ways mean to threaten you, but if you don't tell it's very likely we will all die."

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