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| The Crossroads | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,024 Views) | |
| +CEMP+ | Oct 22 2010, 06:35 PM Post #111 |
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Clockwork Master
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Alana tensed and panicked as all hell broke loose in an instant. Guns were fired, pirates were killed and fires were blazing in the infirmary; a situation she had never been in before. To make matters worse, her patient was in danger, and while she wanted to makes sure he survived, it'd be futile if she die. Survival instinct began to kick in as she searched for cover, but she barely had time to when the ship rocked, and she was flung about with a scream. Her life flashed before her very eyes as she felt herself impact against the bulk head, pain lacing against her ribs she she became winded, and barely retained consciousness. Groaning, Alana fought the urge to break into tears. All she had wanted to do was travel peacefully with a science team as a doctor while being able to help along with the research as well; was that so hard to ask for. She simply couldn't stand staying at the hospital all year round, and out of her growing boredom, had desperately searched for so long and hard to find that kind of position; one which wold satisfy both halves of her career. And through some twisted act of God, landed up in a ship full of cutthroats. She sobbed, feeling tears stroll down, and then, feeling the heat against her face from the roaring flames, she got a grip on herself. She hated being here to a great degree, but she'll be damn if she was going to die here as a broken, sobbing woman. Just noticing the 'intruder' was being dealt with, to relief, she hefted a fire extinguisher that was close by, knowing that if the equipment got too damaged, she'd never be able to finish her job. She hoped to hell worked unlike some of the rest of the ship, and to her relief, it spewed a white cloud of CO2, smothering the flames. "Human." Obviously referring to her. "Are you unhurt?" She turned around to the armored pirate, who was, to bemusement, holding the 'other' pirates at gun point. "I'm fine; a cracked rib or two, but I'm fine. Mind tell what the h- She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as there was a loud clang that resounded behind, followed by a low, familiar shriek. The hairs on her back rose, whipping around despite the protest of pain on her side, and saw in the swirling, dissipating CO2 cloud the blackened, in possessed pirate rising up. She didn't know if the color was from the charring or the creature itself, but what she could definitely make out was how the black, pulsing mass and tendrils all over the pirates body had 'grown.' And that wasn't the only thing that made fear leap into her heart, for it held, in each arm, the corpses of the other intruding pirates. Black tendrils had already surrounded their bodies like they were actually the possessed pirates hands, pulsing as they seem to seep into the armor. The shook as the black tendrils eerily bulged and the black, Ing creature wrapped around the possessed pirate like a giant parasite seemed to grow even more. As it did, the corpses, or rather the suits that they wore, turned pitch black with red lines in most of their crevices. The tendrils let the 'body' goes, but instead of falling to the floor dead, they stood there, alive and looking at the company with rather threatening gazes. The now larger, Ing possessed pirate, on the other hand - having placed it's two puppets between it and itself - sought survival, and exited the infirmary with an awkward walk. It did not intend to stay where it's survival was threatened; it's instinct told it that it still needed to...'mature.' |
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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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| ~The Boss~ | Nov 3 2010, 02:04 PM Post #112 |
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Native Son
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(OOC: So yeah... neglecting your own damn RP is really bad form) "Who is this person? I have learned a great deal of things before, and sometimes have even a little bit of knowledge to work with, but this image draws a complete blank. It is...very unusual." "S... St. Christopher..." Ronnie weakly replied, his thick accent rendering it CHRIS-TUH-FUH. "He'll look after the ship, don't you worry. He won't let nothin' happen to her..." The darkness slowly washed over Ronnie, Lori's anesthetic-like substance finally bringing hum under. He never even noticed the little lizard-thing. He barely knew where he was. .......................... "Maybe I should have shoved a Hallmark card up his ass instead, think that would have gotten the point across?" Jimmy considered Ben's words for a second. Then he grabbed Ben by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and proceeded to beat the ever-loving piss out of him. Once he was satisfied, he let him go and let him drop to the ground. "You know you deserved that, don't you?" Jimmy said, shaking out his hand. He had hit Ben so hard, he'd bloodied his own knuckles. The funny thing was, he still looked eerily calm on the outside, despite having unleashed as pure and raw and emotional outburst as could be. Ben's words had touched a nerve, the flippant way he talked about having shot Ronnie. Jimmy didn't have to say it. His fists said it all. .......................... Screeches. High pitched screeches. Oddly, uncomfortably, terrifyingly familiar high-pitched screeches. If the Pirates had hair, it would be standing on end right now. Grace's most certainly was. "Can you handle a weapon?" Grace asked Fiera. "Cause you're gonna have to. I... I think maybe we missed one..." |
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| ~beflexor~ | Nov 7 2010, 02:31 PM Post #113 |
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I just _____ in the _____.
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Lorrilal cocked her head as she thought about what he'd said. Who was this Saint Christopher? Was he one of Ronnie's friends coming with an escort ship? She reached over to a small computer built into the ship, normally used for medical research and records. Her eyes flicked over the screen, reading the text that came in response to her swift fingers tapping at the keys. Interesting. Christopher appeared to be a quazi-deity of some type, popular before the majority shift in belief went from religion to technology. He was a man once though, someone real, solid. Now he continued to watch over travelers. “To put your heart in something so intangible,” she said to herself, “must take a lot of strength.” She nearly dismissed it, thinking Ronnie rather outlandish, when another thought occurred to her. Wasn't Trisha basically the same thing at this point? She often heard Ben mutter things to her when times were dark and he needed someone's help. She never answered, at least in no way Lorrilal could tell, yet somehow Ben always managed to find the answer. Sometimes, she knew, that the others often spoke quietly to her. A susurrus to a dead girl. One that lingered in strange ways, yes, but still removed from this world. Was Saint Christopher not similar? The small skittering from the lizard caught her attention, and she smiled. She held her hand out, as though offering it in greeting of some type. “You can climb on if you want,” she said. “And don't worry, you're safe here. Saint Christopher, and Trisha, protects us.” ~ Ben heard more than felt his nose break. He tried to fight back, he was taller than Jimmy, and weighed more, but the man clearly had more experience in unarmed combat and was fighting for a personal reason. He'd taken Ben by surprise and knocked him nearly senseless with the first hit. At least, that was what Ben convinced himself of. Ben fell with a grunt, the sound bubbling from his nose. Once the two Jimmys formed back into one in his vision did he respond. “Yeah, I guess I sorda did. Sdill, I'm nod daking back whad I said.” He stood up, bracing himself against the wall. His nose whistled as blood dripped from it onto his shirt. “Well, I suppose we're a liddle more eben dan when we sdarded, dow whad?” Had the ship not felt like it was spinning, Ben would have been furious. Letting these people on board, allowing them to do whatever they wanted no matter the consequences, had they really been so desperate? Ben had no idea where these people stood. What would piss them off, and what would they barely tolerate? There was also another potential to consider. Perhaps one that meant most of all. “Whad about Lori?” he said, his hand slipping from the wall as he took two steps closer to Jimmy. The fire in Ben's eyes had died at that first punch, but now they had started to glimmer again. “Whad if she had used the gun instead? Whad if she were here, saying the very same I did? She's a very smard, able girl, despide her age. Would she have looked like this righd now?” he pointed angrily at his face, his nose still dripping, and a black eye starting to form. |
| Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here! | |
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| ~Emperor~ | Nov 12 2010, 11:55 PM Post #114 |
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Fragment
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The sudden outburst of energy knocked Na'ruten heavily into a panel, and he was all but blinded by the light. “Son of a-” he snapped out, grasping at the wall for something to pull himself up with, though he still couldn't see. The blindness alleviated itself after a few cumbersome minutes, but by that time, T'kran was already gone. Naturally. He pulled himself up then, noting that for all of the flash, his armor was not heavily damaged. With a heavy stride he walked the rest of the way to the infirmary, knowing Sy'thikrus would be doing the same. He was oblivious to the situation there. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two steps to the captain. L'ankan was so close, he could almost forget the smoke that still hovered thickly in the air, around and behind him. It was thick enough to obscure any figures lurking in the infirmary, but he paid it no need. A scythe to his neck brought that mistake to his attention. His face contorted with rage as he realized he had been had, again. T'kran's words filtered through the air then, and the officer very nearly snapped around, and would have - were it not for the scythe. Instead, he gargled something unintelligible at his foe, staring at the captain who was just out of reach. After a moment, he decided to move. With slow, deliberate motions, the Zebesian turned around, bringing himself face to face with T'kran. He sneered, ready to throw an insult, but stopped as the rebel gave his attention to the human. Then a high pitched shriek filled the air like a knife, causing them all to freeze. The Ing wasn't dead after all. But it was a distraction. L'ankan was quick to seize the moment, and slipped out from under the bladed scythe with a sudden agility. He was quick to cock his gun at the rebel, back-pedaling towards the captain. It was only when he caught glimpse of the Ing itself that he recoiled. Its appearance was much worse. In fact, he suddenly realized, one wouldn't be able to know what it had been before without former knowledge. The infestation was much more extreme than the examples he had known before, to the point of curiosity. A shudder ran through him when he spotted what it was holding. They were corpses. His squad's corpses! The Ing tendrils had already penetrated their armor, and without any reaction from the Ing, they turned pitch black. It let them down. And they stood. Now he was outnumbered. L'ankan half-fumbled for his words, rapidly switching his aiming from the Ing to T'kran. “You- he managed to hiss lamely at the latter, then stared as the larger Ing exited quickly. The two Ing attacked all three of them then, sending the infirmary into chaos once more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Na'ruten reached the infirmary door first, which still had a heavy cloud of smoke around it. That was the first indication that something was amiss. The other was the gunfire. That could be two things; either L'ankan's squad and the rebels, or Ing against the rebels. The Lieutenant paused, debating his course of action with either scenario. Cocking his gun, he shoved the door open... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a flash. Then the inexorable disorientation of completing a long distance jump. The space pirate vessel, the Tikarez, had finished its warp...all the while devoid of coordinates. Val'Azor fumed. How could they have let the rebels do that!? Five alarms simultaneously went off in the bridge, and the captain's mood plummeted from atrocious to worse. “Sir! That's the proximity alert! We've warped in near some-” a nearby corporal was struggling to speak over the cacophony of the alarms. “I know what the damn alarms are!” Val'Azor snapped, his claws gripping the metal arm of his chair. “Take evasive action – and bring the object onscreen!” Metallic flakes drifted through the air. “Working on it sir -we're still having some problems from the virus though, the rear thrusters-” The corporal was pounding away at the screen near him. Val'Azor almost exploded. “Do it!” he sputtered, wishing more of their sensors were up. It was bad enough that the virus had crippled as many of their systems as it had. The viewscreen flickered several times, and their bad luck became clear. Underneath the Tikarez was a Federation cargo ship, and they were dangerously close to scraping the top of it. In visible lettering, the word Grace was spelled out... ((OOC: Well that took longer than I anticipated... hope you don't mind the jump by the way, Boss, Beflexor. ;) )) Edited by Emperor, Nov 13 2010, 12:08 AM.
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| ~Bloody Pom~ | Nov 20 2010, 12:20 AM Post #115 |
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
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"Can you handle a weapon?" Grace asked Fiera. "Cause you're gonna have to. I... I think maybe we missed one..." "One what, exactly? I haven't exactly been aware of what's really going on here. In case you forgot, I was unconscious for half the time? But yeah, I can handle a gun." Whatever was happening, Fiera's instincts told her that the source of those screeches was in no way friendly. They weren't out of the fire just yet. The enemy outside had been dealt with. Now there was the matter of the enemy within. ----------------- T'kran's gun was already trained on the other Pirate. He'd known that simply brandishing a scythe wasn't going to stop him. What he hadn't foreseen, however, was that the corpses in the room would rise up from the floor and be consumed by darkness. "It wasn't a virus at all. That thing was laying eggs in him!" T'kran stepped back to face the infested Pirate and the two reanimated corpses it was using to shield its escape. He growled when L'ankan began to speak. "We'll finish this later, loyalist. Right now we have a common foe!" Then, they attacked. Ducking away from the one attacking the pair of them, he rapidly moved to intercept the other, which was making a beeline for Alana. A flash of red, and he had floored the creature, driving his scythe into its abdomen. But there was no pained shriek like he had expected. Instead, the infested Pirate pushed itself off the ground despite the blade impaling it, driving itself further until T'kran's arm was engulfed and his hand poked out of its back. There was no Ing inside this Pirate. It knew no pain. It was a corpse, animated by dark matter and controlled by the will of its master. T'kran roared with a mixture of panic and confusion as the beast lunged forward and clamped its jaws around his shoulder. The armor held, but it was clear that the corpse was trying to tear him apart in any way it could. With a grunt, he pulled his arm back until the blade was usable again, and tore it out, half-vivisecting the dead Pirate in the process. Wrenching himself away, he expected his foe to collapse, but it still stood. The ragged gouge apparently had no effect on its mobility. In fact, tendrils of blackened biomass had burst from the wound and partially repaired the hole. Recoiling, unsure of how to beat this thing, he readied himself as it silently loped towards him, a mixture of blood, saliva and Ing tissue dripping thickly from its slackened jaw. Was this what they'd had to deal with on Aether? And... was he beginning to share their fear of the Ing? T'kran, feeling fear. He didn't want to believe it was possible. |
"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~ | Nov 28 2010, 02:51 AM Post #116 |
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Native Son
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Grace handed Fiera the pistol she had in her left hand, a little P9. Small, concealable, but effective. One of her favorites. "Here," she said. "Nine shots, plus one extra clip." She reached into her pocked and handed Fiera the clip. "Aim for the head. I mean it. You don't have many bullets, so you wanna make 'em all count. So as far as you're concerned, everything below the neck is bulletproof. Understood?" .......................... Touche. Jimmy didn't respond for a long time, just staring at Ben for some time. He didn't have an answer for him, not a good one anyway. No, he was not about to beat up a little girl, but Ben had a point and then some. "No," he finally said. "No she wouldn't. Tell you what, though. We'd have probably given her to the Feds." Let them do the dirty work, he left unspoken. We'll wash our hands of this whole affair and tell ourselves that we did what we had to do. He turned away from Ben again to watch through the window of the infirmary. Lori was either talking to Ronnie or talking to herself, he couldn't tell which. Nor could he hear what she was saying. "Henry wouldn't have approved," Jimmy went on. "Got a soft spot for kids and animals. He'd have probably found the nearest convent and dump her off with the nuns." He managed a smirk, but it was an uncomfortable kind of smirk. "She'd be better off with the Feds, if you ask me. If you went to Catholic school, you'd understand. Nuns are vicious creatures. They-" Jimmy was cut off when the Grace's proximity alarm screamed to life. Without another word, he made a beeline for the cockpit. Ben followed, and they were soon joined by Nick, who had emerged from his bunk clad only in a pair of boxers. "Shit," Jimmy said as he took a look at the radar console. "Space Pirate science vessel. Bastards are right on top of us, too. Looks like they just jumped in." "The hell're these cockroaches doin' this close to Sol?" Nick said, looking over Jimmy's shoulder at the screen. Only the one icon representing the science vessel was present. "They lost or somethin'? They ain't got no escorts." "Like it matters. Whatever the reason, they're bad news. Ben, get the FTL spun up for an emergency jump. Nick, get us some guns." His orders given, Jimmy went back to nervously staring at the console. He wondered why a science vessel, of all ships. He would expect to find a spy ship, maybe a couple fighters. Something with stealth capability, not a big, conspicuous research ship. But there was no point in worrying about that now, not with a situation on their hands. He just hoped they wouldn't have to test out the machine gun they had mounted in the cargo bay. |
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| +Aiko+ | Nov 30 2010, 08:03 PM Post #117 |
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Roffel House!
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(OOC: Emp, I just want to say that the last post you made was phenomenal. I meant to compliment you ages ago when I read it, but I was extremely impressed by what you pulled of there. It showed a lot of creativity!!) A long tongue snaked out, licking purple blood from bared fangs as the viscous liquid splattered the walls from a sudden jerk of the creature's head. Its nostrils flared and all eyes opened, then almost instantly narrowed. It dropped the pirate carcass it had been feeding on, and the bioluminescent stripes running down its side flared bright blue in anger. It ran down the stripped hallway towards the infirmary. The intercom hadn't been turned off since the human's panicked message, and that hissing scream and resulting sounds of battle left no doubt of the fight that was taking place. With the attacking pirate ship no longer available as a means of escape, if the Ing tore up the Salty Dog any more than it already was, the creature was as fatally stuck here as any of the ship's crew. There weren't many things that could spur the creature to action as effectively as a threat to its own life. Quite unintentionally, it snarled a mental challenge at the Ing that Sy'thikrus easily overheard. You sons of bitches, I'm going to send you back to the black hell you came from! Mere moments later, the creature slid sideways at the entrance to the medical bay, talons scraping against metal flooring like nails against a chalkboard, its shot tail flailing madly for balance. It shoved past Sy'thikrus, T'kran, and L'ankan, pushing them roughly to the side despite its head being barely taller than their hips. All of its eyes were on the Ing possessed body in front of them, and it leapt upon the zombie with the ferocity of a demon. It knocked the Ing to the ground, then tore it apart, bite by bite and tear by tear, blood mixing with the whispy black smoke of an injured Ing. The zombie stabbed at the creature with whatever it could find, but even a sharp metal pole sticking out of the creature's rib cage didn't seem to dull its attack. The creature latched its toothy maw sideways across the zombie's head, then jerked back and forth like a pitbull. The pirate's neck snapped, then finally the entire head came free. The creature swallowed the head whole, then went to work ripping the Ing's arms off, joint by joint. Piece by piece, the Ing-possessed pirate was butchered and eaten, until only a smoke filled torso remained. With one final lunge, the creature reared and slammed its front arms onto the Ing's rib cage, collapsing it like a cardboard box. The last whisps of black fog dissipated into the air, and the creature paused only to inspect the body cavity for any more smoke before the rib cage disappeared down its gullet as well. It pulled the metal pole out of its ribs with no more fanfair than that of removing a splinter with tweezers. Finally, the creature turned, more purple than black now with all the pirate blood over it. It looked murderously at T'kran, Sy'thikrus, and L'ankan each in turn, and lifted one foot, then the other, as if it was contemplating additions to its menu. “It's still out there,” the creature hissed in a low, gravelly voice. “Find it, or we all die. Get distracted by more stupid puppets, and we all die. FIND IT!!” It snapped its jaws loudly at the pirates, then jumped forward as if it was about to attack. It then looked at the pathetic human. It felt a brief flash of amused respect when the woman returned the ten-eyed gaze that even gave the pirates the willies. “What are you waiting for? Heal him,” the creature said to Alana. |
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| ~Emperor~ | Dec 1 2010, 04:16 PM Post #118 |
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Fragment
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((OOC: Thanks Aiko! On a separate note, I've autoed Sy'thikrus a very tiny bit because CrypticOcean is missing, and I don't think he'll be back for a while. He was last on in October, and vanished very abruptly; I'm almost positive he had something in RL come up, so I think having his character be in a position where he can pick it back up again easily, without us waiting on him too much, would be the best action. Cryptic, when you read this, just talk to me if you need to.)) The rebel's words had startled L'ankan, though they gave him a small amount of temporary relief. At least he could concentrate on the Ing... Then the second Ing puppet attacked him, and that relief quickly drained away. It attempted to claw at him, as it was lacking a weapon, but L'ankan was quick to block its claws from raking at him. They were locked like this for a moment, and a glance at the rebel T'kran showed he was faring no better. L'ankan felt a chill go through him once more. He hated Ing. As if it could hear his thoughts, the Ing shrieked, spraying flecks of purple spittle at his visor. Disgusted, L'ankan shoved it back with difficulty, aiming his gun forward. He pressed hard on the trigger, and was rewarded with a spray of plasma that shot through the Ing-zombie easily. ...to no immediate effect. Despite the bullets tearing ragged holes in its body, it still lurched on, and even seemed to be closing the holes on its own. L'ankan swore. What did it take to kill these things? He didn't have any light-energy weaponry, the only weakness the Ing had... Did he have to blow it to tiny bits that were incapable of attacking? He couldn't do that. L'ankan stopped his thoughts. Actually, he could. Backing up slightly, he reached down and picked out a circular explosive from amidst his ammo clips, then glared at the shambling corpse. With a hint of glee in his eyes, he jumped forward and jammed the explosive into one of the holes that still remained in the Ing's chest, then kicked it twice, heavily. It shambled backwards into a wall, groaning once. Then it gorily exploded, sending pieces of the corpse and blood everywhere. The dark wisps of the Ing's essence drifted forth, then dissipated. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Na'ruten had barely had time to register what was going on in the infirmary when one of the Ing exploded. Afterward, he saw it was utter chaos inside; he saw the rebels, Ing – and even L'ankan, who was standing somewhat triumphantly over a gore splattered crater at one of the infirmary's sides. Suddenly, something else shot through the infirmary doors, shoving the pirates aside. Na'ruten swiveled his head to examine it, and was immediately perplexed by its appearance. It was a strange...creature, to say the least. His eyes narrowed as he tried to put a finger on just what exactly it was. This exercise proved pointless, however, especially as it began to dispatch the last Ing with a surprising veracity for its size. It readily took care of the Ing, and then ate the entire corpse. That was interesting. “It's still out there,” the creature hissed, surprising the pirates by its ability to speak. “Find it, or we all die. Get distracted by more stupid puppets, and we all die. FIND IT!!” The words were powerful, and for some reason Na'ruten felt a sudden impulse to listen, despite the fact he had no clue what the creature was. It was probably on the rebel side as well; it had to be. L'ankan gave a short and strained chuckle nearby, his thoughts echoing Na'ruten's. He didn't speak. The Lieutenant took in the whole scene, noting for the first time that a human was there as well. He pondered questioning them all, then decided against it. It wasn't worth it, he thought. He blinked suddenly as he looked at one of the beds. Was that Cottonmouth? For the first time, he felt a sudden confusion about what to do next. He wavered, then motioned to L'ankan and Sy'thikrus silently. They were quick to near him. Out loud, he spoke bluntly to the rebels and the creature. “Getting rid of the Ing would be in both of our interests now, yes...” He sucked in his breath. “We'll target it first.” It wasn't really in their interests though, he thought silently. They had the Tikarez to escape to. With that, the three pirates moved past the infirmary and the captain, despite an immediate objection raised by L'ankan. ”The captain's right there...” He hissed, his gaze locked to Cottonmouth. After all he had gone through to get to him...were they going to just leave him? Na'ruten shook his head. “Not now. Too many of them here.” The officer objected. “Can't we just...” “There's also that thing,” Na'ruten interrupted, jerking his head at the creature that had devoured the Ing. After exiting the infirmary alone, and out of the range of its occupants, the three stopped immediately. “Now-” Na'ruten began, only to stop as L'ankan interrupted him. “I can't stand this,” he hissed. “We oughtta just call the mission off and pulverize their ship and the Ing; the Tikarez has enough missiles and their ship is still crippled.” Na'ruten was silent for a moment, thinking. The mission, so far, had been a failure, and they had lost too many pirates. “I am unsure about what course to take.” he finally stated, hesitantly. “It would be appropriate to radio the captain now, and discuss our options.” Then he activated his commlink, unaware of where the Tikarez was. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It only took a few minutes on the commlink for Na'ruten to realize their ship was no longer there, and at that realization, a flurry of emotion crackled through him. The rebel had been right after all! The Tikarez had left them, and that meant... SNAP! The small communicator snapped into three pieces as he clawed it out of his helmet, his rage boiling over into unconscious action. “The Tikarez... is no longer here.” He stated the sentence bluntly, the small device still in his claw. L'ankan, meanwhile, was taken aback by the Lieutenant's sudden show of emotion, though the words stunned him. “What do you mean? They... left?” “They had to have.” Na'ruten spat back. “Though why, I don't know...” He looked pained to speak the next words. “Seeing as... they... didn't inform me.” L'ankan peered at the Lieutenant carefully, tilting his head slightly to the side. That was treason. “...and the mission?” “Forget it.” Na'ruten threw the broken pieces of his communicator to the ground. He had never been betrayed like this. And the worst part was, he had no idea why. Unless... There was some other reason for it. Like what? he thought back to himself, then chased the thoughts away. It didn't matter. “We'll have a new mission,” he suddenly spoke. “As we're stuck on this rebel ship, it's clear our only options are to take command and radio the nearest fleet. Once that's done, we can.... inform them of our situation, and the rebels will be captured. Is that clear enough?” A simple look at L'ankan and Sy'thikrus confirmed it. “Then let us go.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Where the hell are we?” Val'Azor barked at a nearby pirate on a console. “Um...” the pirate was slow to respond, and Val'Azor glared. “Sorry sir, I think there's still a trace of the virus in the systems... let me just...” Val'Azor turned away, refusing to say what was on his mind. The Grace was still centered prominently on the viewscreen, though they had maneuvered far enough away from it to shut up most of the proximity alarms. They had better not be deeper in Federation space... “Ah!” The other pirate interrupted his thoughts. “What?” Val'Azor asked, somewhat less irritated this time. “Sir, it seems we're in... according to our star maps... um... the heart of Federation territory.” Val'Azor didn't answer. “What are the chances...” he murmured, then spoke louder. “That ship hasn't hailed us yet, have they?” “No, they haven't.” “Good.” The captain ran a claw through the marks in his chair. The hyper drive would have to cool down for quite a long time after a jump that long, which meant they were staying in Federation territory for a while. Too long of a while. “Run probing scans through that ship, I want to know how armed they are, and the capability of their hyper drive.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Back on the Salty Dog, Na'ruten and L'ankan had both arrived at the hall just short of the bridge, upon which they stopped abruptly. “Now...” the Lieutenant started, turning around from the leading position he had been at. He stopped when he saw only L'ankan, then narrowed his eyes. “Where's Sy'thikrus?” “Wha-” L'ankan gave a quick look around him as well. “I swear he was here a moment ago.” Na'ruten gave a grunt, then reached for his commlink; it was only when he touched the scarred metal did he remember what he had done. He scowled. Heavily. He knew L'ankan's commlink was specially programmed to only communicate with his squad and the ship, which meant they had no way of finding Sy'thikrus. “Goddamn it.” he spoke aloud, then shook his head. “Never mind the criminal, we can take the bridge with just us two... I have no doubt they sent the majority of their forces outside to stop the attack.” L'ankan nodded. The two pirates walked down the quiet hall, the tension building to a breaking point as they reached the door with the word “BRIDGE” painted over it. He counted down slowly in his head, his claws firmly around the trigger of his weapon. At zero, he pulled the gun up, kicked the door open, and began firing. ((OOC: Boss, they've finally reached the bridge.)) Edited by Emperor, Dec 1 2010, 05:11 PM.
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| +CEMP+ | Dec 6 2010, 01:05 PM Post #119 |
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Clockwork Master
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Just before L'anken exited the infirmary, a fire extinguisher tank had come only inches close to hitting his head, with surprising force, without him even knowing it. Alana stood there, stairing at the pirated with a flusterded face; it was easy to mistake her expression as that of fear instead of anger, because it in truth, it was both. Just as the good doctor thought her life couldn't get any more terrifying, she was faced with an even scarier situation, with the possibility of either being torn out alive, or devoured and raped from within. For the first few moments of the fight, she stood there frozen in terror, and then strangely, the appearance of the second, mishapen beast broke her out of it. She still held fear, but more over, her survival instincts had kicked in; and as well as some courage. She had held her ground while holding the fire estinguisher in her hands, ready to throw it or do whatever with it that was necessary for to fight off the black Ing creature. the only thing she ended up doing with it was trying to bash L'anken's head with; all because he had set off an explosion that miraculously left the rest of her surviving equipment untouched. If she could, she would have thrown it at him, despite the fact that he could have clearly dodged it; and that he was a pirate. She honestly didn't know what to make of what the intruding pirates said; or rather, why they here and what they were doing. She briefly wondered if there was some kind of mutiny going on, but the suits that these guys wore seemed so...different from the rest of the few crew she had seen. Especially consider that a pirate in a Federoa definitely stood out amongst your 'commonly' seen pirates. But as the adrenaline began to fade, she she once again focused her attention on the patient - only to find her gaze going strait at the bizarre monstrosity that seemed to warp nature itself. There was a brief flash in fear before she quelled it; she was through letting this big, bad, gruesome and uglies breath down her neck. Her legs and arms still quivered, but she found herself holding her gaze with the freak of nature as she spoke. “What are you waiting for? Heal him,” the creature said to Alana. Alana grimaced at the words; not at the demand but at the fact that she should be immediately applying medical attention to Cottonmouth. But, she thought, that wasn't really her fault. "Excuse me for making sure nobodies going to shoot me in the back now," she snapped back nervously while she moved to the captain. "I can't really heal the patient if I'm dead." Without waiting to see the creature's response - she knew full well it wouldn't dare kill her unless she failed her duty - she went back to finishing the procedure. (OOC: I'll post for our big Ing critter later. At the moment, I want to give Boss's crew at the bridge a chance to react before plopping at even bigger threat. Boss, PM me if you want me to make it show up or not ~.<) |
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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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| ~beflexor~ | Dec 10 2010, 02:27 PM Post #120 |
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I just _____ in the _____.
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Ben felt a little smug in the fact that he'd thrown a block at Jimmy's thoughts, but it was short-lived considering he'd been on the wrong end of a pair of fists only moments ago. Their course of action, however, got Ben to thinking. It was just him an her in normal circumstances on the ship. What would happen of Ben had a heart attack, or died from a wound taken earlier in a bad deal, or had a fatal machinery accident? Most of the time she was all by herself on the ship when he was in a pensive mood, and he never really made sure to feed her three regular meals a day. But he was always at least there in some way. What if something happened though? She would be alone. Just drifting in the dark... The alarm ripped Ben from his thoughts. Old habits caused a thrill of fear to course through him more at the word "science" than "pirate" until he realized there was no one to hide. "FTL?" Ben said, then "Oh, the Jump Thingy!" he rushed to attend to it, looking back over toward the infirmary and thinking about Lori again for a moment. That was went he fell ass over head. His head, her ass. Both cried out, and Ben scrambled to stand, not seeming to recall one of Henry's crew having such a soft, feminine voice. His hand accidentally brushed something soft, and he was rewarded with a barefoot, but still strong, kick to the side of his head. The last thing he remembered was her snarl before he began drifting in the dark himself. ~ Squirt shot to a standing position, crossing her arms defensively and glaring at the face down human. Her response hadn't been forceful, but it looked like someone had already beaten her to it, literally. The doubled trauma, triple counting the crash together and fall, must have been enough to take him out. The GI wondered what he'd been hurrying off to do. Squirt shrugged, not her problem. The conversation she'd overheard from the safety of the kitchen had turned violent, then they talked about dumping someone off. Overall, it sounded like she'd found herself on a ship of illegal ne'er-do-wells. With that thought in mind Squirt reached down, roughly searching the unconscious body, before finding what she'd hoped for in his boot. An old, but well-cared for revolver with five bullets in it. "Thanks, cowboy," she said with a sneer, wondering briefly why he didn't just shoot his attacker. Judging from the way things sounded around here, that was just the thing to do. She had no idea what the alarm was for, the sound of it had drowned out their words, but it provided an opportunity to move about. The first plan was to find clothes. Although even the softest silk was like sandpaper against her skin, Squirt knew you attracted the wrong kind of attention without them. She considered stealing her attacker's clothes, but they would take too long to remove, and if he was in a hurry, someone else might not be far behind him wondering why he hadn't done what he was ordered to do. That, and sometimes blood-stained clothing attracted more attention than none at all. After getting something to wear she would have to find a way to escape. Slipping the Beflexor into a cargo bay risked all kinds of hazards, and Squirt wanted to control where she ended up this time. All ships had escape pods of some sort, she would either take one of those, or just blow herself out the airlock. She was quite sure her body didn't require atmosphere or a controlled temperature, and there was always a day to find out anyway. So Squirt, armed with a gun and nothing else, made her way forward. ~ Lorrilal, the lizard on her shoulder, felt the arrival of the other ship moments before the alarm went off. Normally in this kind of ship, the infirmary was meant to lock down during an emergency, to keep intruders from accessing any wounded personnel, but that particular feature never had worked properly. "Looks like we might be in for some trouble," she said to herself. She then thought of finding Squirt in the kitchen. Remembering that the GI hadn't even recognized her. "We're most certainly in for some trouble," she corrected. She covered her patient with another thin blanket before stepping out. As everyone scrambled for guns and other weapons, Lorrilal flexed her fingers, the nails on them becoming coated by a yellow and sticky substance oozing out from underneath. |
| Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here! | |
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2:55 PM Jul 11