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Murderer's Row; Legends in the making
Topic Started: Jun 15 2008, 06:51 PM (2,936 Views)
~The Boss~
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Native Son

Agent McManus came into the conference room, shades in his breast pocket and a laptop tucked underneath his arm. The Falcons were already waiting for him, as was the Protoss.

"Good morning," McManus said, greeting them with a smile. "I'm Agent McManus, glad you all could make it." He set the computer down on the table and shook everyone's hand. He wasn't so taken aback by Asakero as the other humans on the ship were. After all, he knew exactly who had been selected for this mission.

The agent walked over to the small table at the corner of the room, where there was a coffee machine sitting there, along with cream and sugar and everything else one would need for their morning cup of instant. He started the coffee then went back to the main table and switched on the computer.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" McManus asked Jessie as he monkeyed around with the laptop, trying to get it synched up with the holoprojector at the center of the table. "We were all pretty worried about you there for a while."

McManus empathized with Jessie over her mission to Aether. He himself had once been taken prisoner by Pirates. Fortunately for himself, his own captivity had lasted only a few days before he was included in a prisoner swap. The Pirates exchanged him and a Marine sergeant for one of their scientists the Federation had been holding.

Jessie hadn't been so lucky, according to the reports. McManus didn't know exactly what had happened to her. The exact details of her mission and subsequent captivity were classified way beyond his ability to access them. So far as he knew, within Section 6 only Director Quinn and Deputy Director Fiore had access to those files, with Chief Oakley and Director Tanaka, Jessie's immediate superior at High Orbit, being the only two outside the agency. Even so, there were all sorts of terrible rumors floating around throughout the Police divisions. From what he had heard, while she was better than ever physically, she still hadn't quite recovered mentally.

McManus however, believed differently. He believed differently because he had seen it with his own eyes.

About two months ago, McManus had attended a big Police banquet in Paris. They were handing out a bunch of awards that night, including one to Director Quinn in recognition of his thirty years of service to the Federation, and McManus had been dispatched to accept the plaque on Quinn's behalf. Jessie Falcon was also there, part of a group of several High Orbit folks in attendance that night.

After the awards had been handed out and the band started playing, his brother-in-law, a lieutenant on the force, was introducing him to a number of people around the room. Lt. Falcon had been one of them, though he wasn't sure if she would remember shaking his hand. Agents were after all trained to be anonymous, and it was only a brief moment in passing anyway. She was occupied most of the night by a deluge of questions about her ordeal and well-wishes for her recovery.

That brief moment, however, was all McManus needed to see it. That fire in her eyes. He knew it every time he saw it. Jessie was ready. She wanted to get back on the job... needed to get back.

It was so bright a fire that, when this mission came across his desk, Lt. Falcon was at the top of his list for prospective hunters.

(OOC: Jessie, let me know if that works for you)
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~Twilight~
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Just... Kind of out there...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
With another flash of unnatural brigt light the darkly colored Luminoth ship appeared from the depths of space, whatever had produced the immense light momentarily consumed by an eerie darkness within the ship, before it seemed to disappear as well. Now being above the planet of Alpheus III, it only took the computer on the ship a second to locate the "GFS Hydra", after which Twilight set the ships auto-pilot to take him there.

After approaching the larger ship, Twilight noticed that two federation fighters appeared from somewhere on the Hydra and stoped slightly ahead of him, before his comm crackled to life.

"Unidentified vessel, this is the GFS Hydra. Transmit your identification code and state your business."

Twilight did not really have a identification code in the same manner that bounty hunters did, instead he had one for a form of mercenary classification, which he tapped into the control panel before adressing the human on the other end. "Mercenary Twilight, I was sent a mission request by 'Section 6', I do not know what it is about yet." Twilight replied, his voice sounding mostly human, but it was too monotone for a real voice.

"Roger that." The pilot of the ship said as he ran a check on what Twilight had sent him. "There seems to be a problem here, it says we were expecting a bounty hunter called 'Twilight ays', not a mercenary named only 'Twilight'." The pilot responded, sounding a bit troubled. "All I know is I got the message, and I have it right here incase you need proof." Twilight responded, though it could not be heard in his voice he was deeply frustrated at this. "Well, its really not my position to question it. You're cleared for docking, I guess." the pilot said in a slightly unsure tone.

After taking his ship in for landing, manually, Twilight activated the airlock sequence that would drain it of dark atmosphere once he entered, which he did only a minute later after securing his rifle. Even as most of the dark atmosphere had been drained, the ship had not been built to contain it, and as such when the side-hatch of the small transport ship opened a burst of black and purple particles could be seen for a moment before they disappeared into thin air. Before the armored feet of Twilight stepped out of the ship.

The moment the hatch closed behind him Twilight noticed the two federation marines that walked up towards him, rifles in hand but not threateningly. "Welcome aboard, state your name and your buisness." The one on the right said, seemingly older and more experienced, compared to the one of the left who was openly looking Twilight over, his vision focusing on the glowing crystal in Twilights chest.

"My name is Twilight, I was given a message by Section 6 that there was work to be found here." Twilight responded, not paying the younger one any mind. "Right, this way please." the older one replied, turning around and starting to walk, signaling for Twilight and the youngling to follow, which he did slightly behind on Twilights left side, though it made the Ing feel uncomfortable, he understood it was a form of safety procedure.

It only took the trio a few minutes to reach the intended destination, and as the door opened the two marines that had escorted him turned to leave just as the door opened, revealing the conference room ahead of him. Being the warrior he was, the first thing Twilight took note of was the people present, along the wall was a rather large alien creature, of which he had never seen before, but that was not strange. However sitting by the conference table was two similiarly clad humans, a male and a female, however there was something... not right, with the female, but he could not tell what.

Entering the small room Twilight gave an acknowladging nod towards the pair, and the alien by the wall, shortly before he sat down in the chair opposite the two bounty hunters, turning his attention to the fourth person in the room. A human male in a suit, most likely someone affiliated with this Section 6 in some way, however he would wait until addressed before he spoke.

OOC: I hope that will do.
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+CEMP+
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Clockwork Master

(OOC: Tell me if this is ok with you Jefe)

When Jenosa knew they were going into GFed territory, she questioned Alson why. His answer only made her irritated, "Let's just say that I smell big fish there." Geez she thought, your 'big fish' could be anywhere, maybe even in my home territory. Why are we wasting so much time and money going out of it?

She even voiced this complaint directly to him, but once again, his response made her irritated: merely winking in her direction, he said, "You'll see. You really shouldn't doubt what I know."

She gave, seeing as he was the more experienced hunter, and she was just a mentee. However, as time went on and as she pondered in her room, she had begun to realize a few things. He was experienced, and she felt doubtful that he was completely relying on that gut instinct to guide him (After all, he had told her of a few stories where it had gotten him into more trouble). He must know something big was going down, probably because he had some kind of contact. Only a few days in Federation space, before they received the message, did Jenosa think, at first glance, she heard Alson talking to himself in his room. However, it became apparent to her that he was talking to someone else, but Jenosa didn't feel like going closer to get an idea in what the conversation was about. She was tired, and felt that whatever it was, it didn't involve betraying; in her short time in getting to know him, he really didn't seem the character for that.

It was when that message came that it eventually hit Jenosa that Alson had friend that in Federation space that had been keeping tabs on some of the activity going on there. Although the contact didn't know much in terms of exact detail, he did know something big was going on. Whoever this sector 6 was, either their contact had notified them, or some of Alson's previous works here had left a mark.

In any case, Jenosa claimed her epiphany in front of Alson, and he merely laughed, saying, "Well, I guess you got me there, Jenosa."

"So," she asked, "are we going to get ourselves equipped?"

"Not yet, young lass. This is a meeting after all, not the actual mission; although..."

"We should bring something light like a pistol, just in case of any unsuspecting dangers, right?" finished Jenosa.

Alson gave a jolly laugh that belied his hunter exterior, "Right you are, and perhaps any light, inconspicuous armor. Anything that generally doesn't catch ones eye but doesn't have the power of a high yield explosive."

Jenosa nodded in understanding. If it was one thing that surprised Alson, it was how friggin quick her wit was, and it was honestly one of her finer traits that kept her alive. It was also a trait that she relied too much on, and almost got her killed once while she was with. Honestly, he believed that she had thought this ability of her would help her out when she had run away, as if 'winging' a test.

She was almost somewhat impulsive, often doings things before thinking them. God honest to hell, he felt that this was a side-effect of being so quick witted, as if she had grown this wit through situations that she needed to react quickly in.

Oh well, he thought, nothing like some sharp training, and perhaps a bullet to the ass, will teach. He was a bit worried about her, like she was his own daughter, which felt really strange to him, her attitude grew on him. She kind of reminded him of, well, himself, once relying too much on his gut at one point.

However, he did feel that she was ready, particularly because she had saved his butt, just as he had saved hers, a couple of more times. Hopefully, this mission would separate the chaff from the wheat, and prune off a lot of her fatal weaknesses.

As they neared their target through actual warp engines (Not like the ones from star trek. I'm following what was done in the game a bit), he and Jenosa prepped themselves. Both armed themselves a pistol (Jenosa wanted to take two, but Alson was against and said that it would make her more conspicuous), his standard and Jenosa's a Polar Blaster, a gun who's small, bouncing charge shot he disliked. They had also put on a kind of rubber-ish clothing whose material made it like a light, bullet proof and energy resistant armor. Flexible on your body, tough on firearms.

Finally, a few small trinkets, these being dubbed "Flash Pellets." Each about the size of a pee, and as their name would suggest, they were a mini-flash bang. While they didn't pack much of a wallop, their size made them easy to conceal, particularly en-mass, and with the right timing and placing, they could blind a person for a few good minutes. Although, Alson usually preferred carrying his in bulk, but Jenosa only took three or four, as the accuracy of her arm made up for the lack of numbers.

Having arrived at their destination, and going through the standard procedures, they both made their way through the Hydra. What was most surprising was most of the looks Jenosa got from the crew. Wearing more standard clothes under the light rubber-wear, combined with her enthusiastic face, she Jenosa looked more like a civilian than an actual hunter-in-training. Jenosa made a low, whispered comment to Alson, "I think their bemused in what a happy, innocent looking red-head is doing with a person like you.”

Alson chuckled at this, and it seemed to also surprise the guard. Thankfully, they got in without any incident. Both companions saw with momentarily large eyes at the sight of the strange alien – the protoss – but didn’t say anything, and merely sat down beside the two other hunters, Jenosa beside the other female. The weird purple soldier only caught half of their attention.

As Jenosa sat down, she couldn't but help feel all giddy inside of herself, alongside being anxious. Giddy not because she was coming with Alson on an actual job, but because of where she was; never in her life did she imagine she would actually be walking on a huge battle ship, even if it wasn't that of the Confederation. Especially since when she ran away form home, walking onto a ship like this was the in the least of her thoughts.

In fact, it was the 'unexpected' that she looked forwards towards the most. Even before she ran away, she liked the idea of being surprised, and just swinging with it, even if the surprise wasn't always great. "Never a dull moment," the cliché that anyone would say that liking of hers.

(OOC: I’m going to make an assumption on this) After the woman responded to one of the guys in charge, Jenosa, without turning to her, said to Jessie, "So, I'm a teeny curious in what you make up of those 'two?"' nodding her head in the direction of Twilight and the Protoss (Can't quite remember his name).
"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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+Lt. Jessie+
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Jibbering, Troublemaking Ball of Fluff

The lieutenant had been fiddling with one of her feathers when she heard footsteps enter. Falcon quietly looked over to see who, or in this case what, had stepped in. He had never seen a Protoss before, but he had heard things about them here and there, such as their use of telepathy, which made him a bit unnerved. He shuddered at the thought of someone, or something, being able to read his mind. To say the least, he felt that his personal space was being… violated…

Jessie, on the other hand, was a different matter. She had never heard of nor seen them before, which made her very curious. She slightly tilted her head to one side and looked over the alien with great curiosity, but she saw the minute gesture her brother was giving her and ceased her actions. Falcon walked over from his spot and took a seat next to his anxious sibling. He gave her a subtle nod, an indication that should have time to learn more about her temporary allies later once they had gotten their objective.

It wasn’t long until the employer stepped in, a sharply dressed man in a black suit with a laptop in hand. Falcon only nodded as his means of acknowledgement, but for Jessie, he found that the employer was very concerned with her well-being, which was rare for hunters according to her brother. It was extremely rare that they would care. Perhaps this man was just a racing fan…

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" the agent addressed Jessie as he proceeded to tinker with the system and projector. "We were all pretty worried about you there for a while."

“I’ve been better,” she replied abruptly, but not before she got a glare from the captain. “I mean, I’ve been well, thank you.”

The man seemed vaguely familiar to her, but anything after her last big mission was a blur. Time in and time out within the psychiatric ward with Dr. Lam, along with physicals with Dr. Stewart… Too many people were smothering her with questions and well-wishes, all of which made her sick inside at times, especially during that one awards night. Why she even went she could not remember the incentive, but despite her being forced into recovery, she wanted back in. She missed the adrenaline rush of sitting behind the wheel and the thrill of soaring on deadly wings.

Late at night after the party, without her brother’s permission or knowledge, she had taken to Aerodive and set a personal record, then sat at the highest point in Port Town on top of main docking tower, only to stoop down towards the sea below before pulling up suddenly to send a powerful gust to create a swell that rocked a yacht that just happened to be partying in the area. Of course, Falcon had been watching her through the cameras he had set up. He knew that she was edgy, wanting to be freed from her cage to hunt again. After talking with Dr. Stewart and Dr. Lam, they had agreed that she was ok, and with that, this was the next formal mission for her to take on.

The young lieutenant was snapped back to the present when another person came in, followed by two other people who sat next to her, namely a female red-head and whom she assumed to be a companion of some sort by the looks of it. Though to Falcon, he had a feeling the man had some experience under his belt to come out here. Jessie turned to look at the girl, but before she could greet her, the red-head took the first shot.

“So, I’m a teeny curious in what you make up of those ‘two?’” she asked without looking at her.

“I don’t know,” the young pilot replied, also looking at the two she was referring to. “But they sure are too quiet for my liking… I think they’re just here for the money like any other hunter in this part of the galaxy…”

Falcon held a chuckle inside as he looked over at Alson, only to nod at his presence as he waited patiently.

“So…” Falcon decided to interrupt in a jokingly matter. “What’s a pretty little red-head like you doing aboard the Hydra? You’re not thinking of scoring with one of the young troopers, are you…?”

Jessie brought a fist to the forehead of her helmet, grumbling to herself quietly.

Is this how you treat women, both amateur and experienced...?
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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.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The Arctic Storm finished it's last jump, the jump drive shutting down as the gunship slowed its speed. Travis yawned, stirring in his seat and sitting up. as he carefully guided the vessel towards the GFS Hydra, his destination.

[SIR, THERE ARE TWO FEDERATION FIGHTERS APPROACHING. THEY'RE REQUESTING TO SPEAK WITH YOU, SIR.] The artifical voice of the ship's computer chimed.

"Open a channel with them, please?" The young man asked.

["Unidentified vessel, please switch to a secure radio frequency, state your name and business, and transmit your identity codes; we are standing by."] A man's voice crackled to life over the COM systems.

There was a brief flash of blue light from the Arctic Storm's cockpit for a moment.

["Uh... everything okay in there?"] The pilot asked, having only seen a side glance of the gunship."]

"Everything is fine, sir. This is Bounty Hunter Travis ‘Deadeye’ Clark, reporting for the notice I received from Sector 6." Travis said, now sitting clad in his fully-custom armorsuit. Without further delay, the young man entered the identification codes into the system.

[“Thank you sir, you are now granted clearance for docking bay 7. Please proceed to the Hydra. Welcome aboard, Mr. Clark.”]

================================================

A few short minutes passed as the Arctic Storm touched down inside the Hydra. Receiving directions and various greetings, Travis soon found himself inside the briefing room with the other hunters.

(Here it goes…) He thought to himself, scoping out the room.

Many of the bounty hunters he saw in the room didn’t ring any bells, save for one; the red helmet and golden crest in the shape of a bird and the trademark jumpsuit design. The name immediately came to Travis…

(Huh… Captain Falcon himself, it looks like; and it seems he’s got a companion too… girlfriend, maybe?) He thought to himself, eyes still drifting around the room.

“So… What’s a pretty little red-head like you doing aboard the Hydra? You’re not thinking of scoring with one of the young troopers, are you…?” The famed bounty hunter said to a red-headed woman.

(Uh-huh.... niiiiice joke.) Travis thought to himself sarcastically. (Yep. Reallll nice thing to start a conversation with. And they say he's professional... I hope he realizes that could get him slapped upside the head.)


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~The Boss~
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Native Son

With Clark's arrival, it looked as though all of the hunters that would showed up had. Two other agents, Theriot and Vasquez, also came in behind Clark and took seats at the back of the room. Now the mission briefing could begin in earnest.

"First of all, let me thank you all for coming here today," Agent McManus said. "I understand that we have been somewhat cryptic in outlining the details of the job for you. Unfortunately, that could not be avoided. The nature of this mission demands it."

McManus switched on the holoprojector, which generated a three-dimensional image of a tall man in his late 30s with a prematurely gray ponytail.

"Henry Callahan," McManus said. "Also known as Savage Henry. Until relatively recently, known primarily to the law enforcement community as one of the deadliest assassins the galaxy has ever seen."

The holoprojector flashed a series of images, crime scene photos of Henry's alleged victims. The hunters would no doubt recognize many of the names that went along with the bodies; Akinori Ozu, former kingpin of the Martian Yakuza; Commander Alexei Koskov, decorated war hero and head of the Galaxy Police's organized crime task force; Clyde Nash, Samus Aran before there was Samus Aran; the list went on and on.

"These days," McManus continued as the litany of corpses continued, "he sits at the top of the Irish mob in New York City, and by extension, on Planet Earth. He likes to pass himself off as just the head of a little neighborhood gang in Manhattan, but make no mistake about it. He is quickly becoming one of the most powerful criminals in the entire galaxy."

McManus switched the image again, this time bringing up a three-dimensional mughsot.

"Mark Chastain," he said. "Hacker extraordinaire. Creator of Sabrina.exe, one of the few computer viruses that can accurately be called a doomsday bug. Suspected of twice successfully hacking into the FCC database, along with many more unsuccessful attempts. Confirmed to have hacked the Sol satcom network at least once. Three more separate attacks are alleged.

"For the past two years, Chastain has been Callahan's personal egghead. Whether it's shutting down an alarm system so the goons can go to town, jamming GFed communications, or sabotaging networks, there's hardly a computer-related task in the syndicate that Chastain doesn't have his fingerprints on. Which brings us to why you all have been summoned here today.

"Approximately one month ago, Callahan and Chastain had a falling out with each other. We have received conflicting reports from our informants on the street as to the exact reasons for the souring of their relationship. However, we do have reason to believe that he is ready to talk. This is not your everyday turncoat we're talking about here. This is someone who was very, very close to Callahan. On a personal level. A bona fide member of the inner circle, along with the Blacks and the Vegas. He has the potential to bring down not just Callahan's organization, but shine a light on the entire galactic criminal underworld."

McManus paused for a moment to let that sink in. Since his rapid and bloody rise to power, Savage Henry had sunk his claws into as many dirty little enterprises as he could, from Earth to Rogue and everywhere in between. Smuggling, larceny, drugs, assassination, prostitution, gambling, union racketeering... and that was just among his own race. He also had connections with Zebesian pirates, particularly through the gun-running Vega family.

And then there was the government corruption. Galactic Senators, planetary governors, and colonial sheriffs all bought and paid for; ties to war-profiteering megacorps; if Chastain is allowed to say what he has to say, it could go very bad for a lot of powerful people.

"I don't think I need to tell you," McManus continued, "just what lengths Callahan will go to in order to ensure that Chastain never talks to anyone."

A quartet of new mugshots flashed onto the holoscreen, replacing the image of Mark. "These are your targets," he said to the hunters. "These are the men currently pursuing our potential informant.

"James Vega," McManus said, gesturing towards the young dark-haired man in the first image. "Son of Marcus Vega, one of the planet's most prolific arms dealers and longtime Callahan associate. The younger Vega is currently Callahan's protege. Many believe he is being groomed for a leadership position within the gang.

"Vega is not exactly a what you would call a seasoned warrior. He's a street kid... a gang banger learning how to hang with proper mobsters. However, he does know how to shoot, and thanks to his father he'll be packing sniper weapons the likes of which you've never seen. I'd advise all of you to keep your heads down until he is eliminated as a threat.

"Ron Black." McManus indicated the second image, a blond kid about the same age as Vega. "Son of the late Jackie Black, a high-ranking member of the gang before he was killed five years ago. His sister Teresa is also believed to be a player behind the scenes. He is considered a rising star in the organization. Black by himself is not much of a threat. More then likely, he will be behind the controls of a gunship, where he is truly dangerous.

"Nick Scanlan. Ex-Marine, ex-bounty hunter, now a full-time thug. In contrast to the two kids there, he is a veteran warrior, even if he seems like a lout. He'll almost certainly be the point man for this operation.

"And finally, Galen Murphy." McManus pointed to the last image, this one of a dark-haired man who looked very out of place in a police mugshot, in stark contrast to the others who had "criminal" written all over their faces. Murphy had the kind of face made for an 8x10 glossy, or a teen idol poster.

"Murphy is Henry Callahan's number one trigger, and represents by far the greatest threat of any of these men. He is a former federal Agent... so use extreme caution when engaging him.

"The job is simple, boys and girls. We believe Chastain is holed up somewhere on the moon. So do our merry pranksters, and they're searching for him as we speak. Get to him before they do. Use whatever means at your disposal. Any questions?"
Edited by The Boss, Jul 13 2008, 01:00 AM.
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

(OOC: Sorry for another filler, but I'm trying to get into the mind of an autistic individual. This has required a bit of research, and I hope I'm pulling it off alright. Needless to say, this guy is a bit of a trip to RP.)

Calloused fingers ran across the rows of disassembled keys lying perfectly clean on a completely sterilized countertop. A single, light blue eye gazed at each key brought to it. The key was rotated in fingers at an 80 degree angle, then set carefully back down in formation. Eight times each key was checked until the ritual was complete. Then each key was set so gently back in place on the keyboard that the click was barely audible.

The room was dark, but immaculately clean. Two piles of empty soda cans, stacked precisely in an 8x8 pyramid, each can exactly .440cm from the next, rested on either side of a computer table. Five dishes rested, spotless, .440cm apart from one another, in the personally made dish rack in the sink. The escape key clicked into place, and the man behind the fingers stared at the completed project with intense satisfaction.

He hadn’t always arranged the keys like this, but the music had changed. The Ponytail Man knew the notes, and the scale had to change. Leaving had cut Mark deeply, but no longer could he stay. The Ponytail Man had changed his inner tune, but that music was deaf to one like Mark.

Mark feared the Ponytail Man, one who could pretend to be like him. A friend, he was. One of two, and the other was dead. An accident it had been, but it didn’t change anything. Making friends was hard enough for Mark, and now he had none.

An expressionless face stared at the blank computer screen, unable to express the confusing, illogical, incomprehensible surge of hormones and neurotransmitters flooding Mark’s brain. He knew others called those confusing signals ‘emotions’, but none could define them. Mark lived in absolutes. Without a definition, a concept had no meaning.

There was a knock on the door, one Mark heard but didn’t seem to notice. The door nicked one of the carefully assembled pyramid of cans, sending the top columns falling to the side.

“Hey Mister, I’ve got food---”

Mark roared in anguish and turned so quickly that his hip struck the chair beside him. He completely ignored the man in the door and fell to his knees beside the cans. With shaking fingers, he slowly gathered the cans one by one and put them back into position.

The man at the door was shocked, then looked scornfully down at Mark. He muttered something under his breath as he left the food on the floor beside the crazy man, but he didn’t exist to Mark. Some elemental force had rocked his world, and he needed to fix it before it all fell apart.
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+Lt. Jessie+
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Jibbering, Troublemaking Ball of Fluff

Another hunter stepped in before the meeting began. Oddly, it seemed familiar to the young huntress, but she brushed it off as another hunter she bumped somewhere random. However, the brother thought otherwise. There was something striking a cord in him about this hunter, which made him cautious, but he had other concerns than the other hunters on this mission, and that was to make sure that this mission was successful for his ‘ward.’

Jessie listened intently as she did her best to memorize the faces that went with the names, as well as the goal of the mission. She had a hard time doing such things, but over time, with Falcon’s help, she had been able to keep it in her long-term memory for quite some time. Flashcards, quick memorization exercises… Anything that would help with her mental retention. However, she had one tiny cheating device: a small vocal and visual recording unit inside her helmet that helped her with mission logs. After all, it was this tiny bit of recording that allowed her to have an incomplete log of her Aether mission, something she wished to forget.

As for Falcon, he was already formulating different strategies in his mind for possible scenarios that these men would concoct, especially Vega. He would prove to be a challenge, especially for Jessie. She had just learned how to shoot, but this boy was already doing more than popping flies out of the sky. On top of that, he wouldn’t be using standards. No, he would be using customized snipers, ones equipped with specialized scopes and unique rounds, and more than possibly .50-cals. He would have to bring his own big shooter for this one, and hopefully, Siam would be able to get Jessie’s completed as soon as possible. Vega would be the first man they would have to go after.

Black would be next on the list. If it was a dogfight he wanted, then a dogfight he would get, but not if they got to him first. They would have to find where his ship was located, as well as any other resources, and stop it there with a few well-placed explosives. If not, then they would have to do a personal face-to-face one-two gang up on him.

Nick was going to be a pain. Both of the siblings had first-hand experiences of what Marine training was, and they knew what sorts of people came out of that. They were hardcore green-berets, built tough and just about as rough as the mountains and rocky coastal lines they trained at. They were like rhinos on a rampage; unstoppable even with tranquilizers or shots. They would just keep fighting until they died.

As for Murphy, chances were that they weren’t going to touch him unless necessary. Three was already enough, but then again, these other hunters also needed to pull their weight in this. Instead, the captain pushed it off to the back of his mind and focused on the other three. He was not one to hoard all the glory in terms of hunting, but on the tracks, that was different.

Both siblings had an idea of how to react, but with it only being theory, there was only one way to prove it, and that was to take it to the field. Falcon rested his chin on his palm as his elbow sat on the desk. He had a few personal questions, but one that bugged him the most was going to make or break the Night Kestrel’s construction time.

“So, we go in, deal with these thugs, get this Chastain, and blow the joint,” he blatantly laid out on the table, which shocked his partner quite a bit. “How much are we getting for all this trouble?”

He could sense her eyes on him, but he gave a tiny gesture with his hand, telling her to stay quiet as he made the negotiations of payment. He wanted as much as he could, just so that he could make sure that she had the best technology money could buy, whether it be legal or illegal. He was not too kosher himself, as the Falcon Flyer had questionable pieces of gear that had been hiding from Federation eyes since his father was a hunter.

Oh how proud Robert would be if he were alive and saw them now… However, many would agree that the same could not be said for Katrina…
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"Two hundred," McManus quickly replied, meaning of course two hundred thousand. "And whatever bounty you are eligible to collect from these men on top of that."

He looked over the gathered hunters. Among them, he knew that Douglas Falcon and Alson Dufion had the most experience. Jessie Falcon, Jenosa Arma, and Travis Clark were just kids, barely old enough to drink. The other two, Twilight and Asakero, were relatively new unto the scene, though they remained quite mysterious. It was difficult to gauge their respective level of experience.

All in all, that left seven hunters. He liked their odds.

"Any more questions?"

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

Alpheus was a bright red gas giant orbiting a bright blue sun way out on the rim. Its third moon, the only one that could support life, was a rocky, sparsely populated little world. The people there were mostly miners, or settlers who came out to the frontier merely because it was there, and somehow wound up on Alpheus III.

Most of the land on the moon wasn't well fit for farming. The soil was dry and rocky, and most of the planet had a generally hot climate (though not always dry in some areas) thanks to that blazing blue sun. Just about the only things that grew there were citrus, olives, and peppers. Maybe some onions and spices. And pineapples, coconuts, and sugar cane out on the islands. There wasn't a large variety, though what they did grow was plentiful. But mostly, it was the mining that kept the settlers employed.

That, and the occasional criminal enterprise. Like Rusty McMasters.

Rusty's Hangar was ostensibly a repair shop for your smaller space-fairing vehicles. Located on a hill overlooking Rocky Point, the largest city on Alpheus III (with a population of about twenty five thousand, it was a sprawling metropolis by rim standards), it was a cover for his real business, which was buying and selling the machines on the black market.

Rusty had dealt with some pretty shady characters in his time, and the two boys who had come to see him today were no different. They worked for some gangster named Savage Henry, who was supposed to be a big deal back on Earth. Their boss had gotten in touch with him a while back about getting these boys a gunship, and he gladly obliged. He was always eager for new business, and a big gang boss from Earth meant potentially big money.

The kid with the spiky dark hair was named Vega. He wore jeans and a North Carolina basketball jersey, and Rusty could tell that he had a revolver stuck in those jeans. The other one, the blond guy admiring the fully-loaded gunship, was Black. He wore a Bermuda shirt and camo shorts. Both of them wore dark shades, and both of them were heavily tattooed.

"So whatd'ya think, Ronnie?" Vega asked his friend.

"She's a sweet bird, that one," Black said. It was a BlackStar Phaeton, little sister of the big hulking Helios. "I love these twin ion cannons and the machine guns for atmo combat... and of course, you gotta have the Eradicator thrusters. how's the armor plating on her?"

"Reinforced benzium alloy," Rusty said. "That'll keep your ass in one piece against the best of 'em."

Ronnie Black continued to inspect the vessel inside and out while Vega stood by smoking cigarettes. Finally, Black came down the ramp, satisfied with what he had seen.

"She looks tip-top, Jimbo," he said.

"Great." Vega took an envelope full of multicolored bills, Federation standard cash currency, out of his back pocket and handed it to Rusty. "There ya go... five thousand, cash money."

Rusty frowned, glaring at the envelope. "Well... then we've got ourselves a little problem here."

"Problem?"

"Yeah. Price to rent the ship is seven Gs... seven big ones."

"Well then we do have a problem," Vega said. "Since you agreed on five thousand with Henry."

"He told me he wanted it for five, and I told him the price was seven."

"He told us it was five. You callin' Henry a liar?"

"No... just sayin' there was maybe a miscommunication there."

Vega took a few steps closer to Rusty, and Ronnie came up closer as well. "Well five thousand is what Henry told us," Vega said. "Five thousand's what we got, and five thousand's what we're paying."

"Is that a fact?" Rusty scowled.

"Damn straight that's a fact. Cause if not, then Ronnie's gonna put your face through this f@#kin' window here." Vega pointed to the plate glass window on Rusty's office.

Rusty snickered. "You big city tough guys... you may be a big fat deal back on Earth, but you and your boss ain't shit out here. You don't muscle us." Rusty revealed the pistol in his belt. "That ain't how it works out here.

Now it was Vega's turn to snicker. "You got some balls on you, you know that?"

Before Rusty could even react, Vega snatched the gun from Rusty's belt and pistol-whipped him in the face. Ronnie grabbed him by the back of the head and, just as Jimmy had said, smashed his face into the office window, shattering the glass and embedding shards into his face. The mechanic crumpled to the ground, and the young gangsters began kicking Rusty in the back, chest, and abdomen mercilessly.

"This is how it works, motherf@#Ker!" Vega shouted, crouching down to get right into Rusty's bruised and bloody face. "You try and drill us in the ass like that again, we'll put you in a f@#kin' hole in the ground. You understand me you piece of shit?" He kicked him one more time for good measure.

Black climbed into the ship and fired up the engine, while Vega tossed the bills all over Rusty, who was left moaning on the ground. "Here... for your goddamn hospital bill."

He walked out of the hangar and back into the car, as Ronnie flew the ship out and up into the skies over Rocky Point. Mark was somewhere in that town. They were find him, one way or another.
Edited by The Boss, Jul 19 2008, 01:32 PM.
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Jenosa nodded solemnly in agreement with the person beside her. However, she had a somewhat different view on the money concept, since it was the only way to survive in this universe. It was, admittedly, sometimes an annoyance, as it would definitely create borders for her; and there had been times before her 'run away' that she hated having to work for 'objects', both tangible and intangible, that in a physical sense, she really didn't need for survival. The trouble was that certain people, perhaps some long lost, dead ancestor, made it a need, and while there had been some good reasons why this systems was kept, it was a fact that still annoyed her on occasions; as you needed it just to live and move about in society with some freedom.

Jenosa knew she could do nothing about this - sure, she could probably live like some kind of survivalist, but that wasn't what she really wanted. And while she knew what she wanted was extremely vague - this being before she ran away - in order to find what she wanted, as well as to enjoy life, she need money for freedom.

Even still, she knew that the woman beside her was also referring to the fact that they might do whatever it takes to get the money; and this may include the harm of innocents. Yes, she wanted freedom, but she had moral values, and would not stoop so low.

She was about to ask for the woman's name when the guy beside her, seeming to be her partner, interrupted by saying, “So…What’s a pretty little red-head like you doing aboard the Hydra? You’re not thinking of scoring with one of the young troopers, are you…?”

Jenosa glared at the guy in a way that totally belied her innocent appearance, "The only thing that I'm here to score on is the bounty, and perhaps your head."

Oh, she knew he was joking, but the joke felt insulting in someway, probably because of how it was aimed at her particular gender. The last thing she had on her mind was 'scoring' it big with a man, and it felt like one of those stupid, stereotypical jokes.

Before she could make any further comments, however, she heard Alson laugh in mirth. "Careful there...Douglas Falcon, I presume. Your choice of jokes may get you black eye; I'm not sure how good this lass is in close combat, but she has one heck of an arm that can throw. Quite accurately too."

"Douglas Falcon," Jenosa repeated, her nerves calming down, "why does that name ring a bell."

"Because," Alson stated to Jenosa, "Falcon is a renowned F-Zero racer. I'm not surprised you don't recognize his face since you've lived in Confederation space for so long; me, well, I travel to other places."

"Really?"

"Yes, in which case," he said with some excitement under his breath, "I never expected to be meeting you in person, at least not like this, ha-ha. The names Alson, and this young lass with me is Jenosa. Y'know, from just seeing you on the screen, I had a feeling you would pull out a joke like that."

"I'm taking you and the women beside you are also partners, which I'm a bit curious-

"Ahem, hate to interrupt the socialization, but it looks like the presentation is about to begin, he said, pointing towards McManus. Both sitting down again, they took the time to absorb the information, with Alson using a micro camera smaller than a pea to video record everything in case his memory failed him.

As he did, he went over his own possible scenarios in how to do with these sorts of criminals, his methods being fairly similar to what Falcon was thinking; only t he methods might be done different, with different weapons. In preference, there a small hope that Alson could try out a few new things on his ship that he had gotten for it, some of which he hid from the Confederation.

Meanwhile, Jenosa felt like some of the images had already burned themselves into her mind; in particular, James Vega. There was something about his image that made her seethe somewhere inside, for although she wanted nothing to do with thugs, she did have some personal experiences with them. In particular, the groups of teenagers that Alson rescued her from seemed to be one of the lower gangs, or a pseudo-gang. In either case, she had occasionally met people in her life that could easily grow up to a mobster, and seemed quite like. They hadn’t been a plague in where she lived, and there were far and few that she had met, but her little runaway had given her a little taste in what these people could be like; she especially disliked their attitude and their tendency to excessively violent.

Hell, already by looking these people in the face, she could already tell she would hate them. Period.

She really couldn’t tell if she was going to enjoy this particular or not.

When McManus asked if there were any more question, Alson asked, “Is there any particular kind of weapons that we’re limited to use, and what will the geography of the moon be like?”
"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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