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Murderer's Row; Legends in the making
Topic Started: Jun 15 2008, 06:51 PM (2,935 Views)
~The Boss~
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Native Son

McManus typed in something on the laptop, closing his power point holo display of the mugshots and switching to the aerial images of the moon. The holoprojector zoomed over the harsh terrain of Alpheus III for a while, giving the hunters a good view of the hills and canyons that surrounded the city, until finally settling on the town itself.

The city of Rocky Point was well named. It sat right on the bay on a shore lined by jagged cliffs. The town itself was full of rough and bumpy terrain, but it wasn't nearly as unforgiving an environment as that which surrounded it.

"As for your other question," McManus said, "for all intents and purposes, there really are no restrictions on what weapons you can use. Obviously, weapons of mass destruction won't be necessary against four men, and I doubt you'll need heavy ordnance. Chief Oakley has authorized the use of lethal force. However..." The agent paused and intensely looked over the hunters. "I would appreciate it if you did not interpret that as being granted a license to kill. We want these alive. They're more valuable to the Federation alive, and they're more valuable to you alive.

"Now then, if there are no more questions, this briefing has been concluded. Good luck, boys and girls."
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+Lt. Jessie+
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Jibbering, Troublemaking Ball of Fluff

Falcon was starting to like the red-head’s attitude. Not necessarily innocent as evident of her reply, he was sort of waiting for it, even if her reply was a low blow below the belt. The older man, whom he could safely assume was the master of the two, cut in before the girl could have another say.

"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."

“It’s not like I don’t have my little troubles to go through,” he snickered.

Jessie heard this and slumped in her seat slightly, only to sit back up. The man began to go through some brief information of what he knew about the pilot, cheery as the girl listened intently.

"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 name’s 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."

“Alson, hmm? Seems like you’ve seen a couple races or so,” he chuckled lowly, Jessie tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.

Everyone was quiet, and Falcon had asked his question. It was not long before Alson had his say, which gave Falcon a clear go-ahead for him to use his weapons as he pleased, not to mention that the terrain was ideal for sniping of all sorts, which made him wonder why the target was living there…

“For all intents and purposes, there really are no restrictions on what weapons you can use. Obviously, weapons of mass destruction won't be necessary against four men, and I doubt you'll need heavy ordnance. Chief Oakley has authorized the use of lethal force. However..." The agent paused and intensely looked over the hunters. "I would appreciate it if you did not interpret that as being granted a license to kill. We want these alive. They're more valuable to the Federation alive, and they're more valuable to you alive.”

Of course… Falcon thought to himself.

"Now then, if there are no more questions, this briefing has been concluded. Good luck, boys and girls."

Besides, he had his newly-made sniper waiting to be used. He stood up and looked at Jessie, motioning that he would be waiting outside, thinking that perhaps she wanted to get to know some of these other allies that would be on the mission, and maybe have a small talk with the agent, if needed.

The lieutenant was very curious, but instead went with her brother, who led her to the hangar where the other ships were. She was getting a little hungry and sat on the ramp while munching away on a sandwich she picked up before heading out the door back in Port Town. Being the aerial fighter she was, she was quick to lose energy, a downside for being able to attack quickly and fly, but regardless, she was accustomed to this fact somewhat.

“So, what do you plan to use?” she asked, picking at the tomato that was sticking out of the stack.

“The .50 will come in later if needed, but for now, the .35 should be enough to suffice…” he mumbled, looking over inventory. “That, and we have our rifles, which should be enough. Though I do wish I managed to get our provider to make you a set of stealth armor…”

“Well, you did get me that black set,” she replied, finishing up her meal before starting on an apple. “It is better than nothing after all.”

“Hmm… Perhaps it is better you utilize it to full capacity before I give you something more advanced, that way you’re not always banking on tech to help. It’s good to learn the basics completely before you move on to something more complicated. Besides, it would put your stealth skills to the test.”

Jessie nodded and continued to nibble on the fruit as she watched the troopers walk back and forth. She began to go through the briefing in her mind, playing back the recording on a tiny screen on her visor. This was going to be one hell of an experience for her, not to mention working with others that were complete strangers to her, as the only partner she really worked with was Falcon, and the only other female hunter she knew was Samus Aran. With Jenosa here, it was going to get very interesting.
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~Twilight~
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Just... Kind of out there...
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OOC: Sorry for the time it took.

Like Asakero, Twilight was quiet throughout the whole briefing, although he listened to McManus and observed the holo-displays his sight kept dragging back to the Lieutenant, he could not tell what it was, but something about her unnerved him, there was a strangely familiar sensation emanating from her. He shock his helmeted head slowly as he refocused on McManus, whatever it was, now was not the time for it.

Even though he was a born warrior of the Ing, he did not directly plan out possible confrontations or ways to deal with the four they would be sent to deal with. Twilight tended to improvise depending on the situation, and even then he usually just charged straight at the enemy if it was not direct suicide, as he trusted in his natural toughness to what most humans could bring against him, the only thing he truly feared, which was a bit ironic seeing as a small amount of it was now coursing through him, was light energy.

When they were given the sum of their payment for this job Twilight felt slightly relieved, that was enough for him to make repairs to his ship after the unfortunate mission on that cruiser which had ended up stranding them all on a desert planet. What he had done back then was only temporary repairs, and even after he had not had much to properly fix the ship. It also seemed they would be allowed to use lethal force, which made it all the more viable for him as his two only weapons were both lethal. But as was asked of him he would not intend to kill them, but he could care less if they died.

As the briefing was more or less ended Twilight remained in his seat for a few minutes, mulling all the information he had gathered from the holo-displays and McManus briefing, then when he thought he had everything in his head he pushed the seat away as he stood up and walked towards the door. After which he was escorted back to his ship by what appeared to be the younger trooper which had been one of those meeting him as he first boarded the ship. Although he was silent at first, after being halfway to Twilights ship the trooper broke the silence. "So uhm, whats that gem in your chest for? Is it some kind of force field generator?" While Twilight could easily answer the question by either truth or lie, he always became uncomfortable when things that could relate him to either Aether or the Ing came up, which is why he hesitated. The young trooper noticed this however. "Oh, you dont have to tell me if you dont feel like it, I was just curious." The trooper quickly said, sounding appologizing about even asking the question, and seeing that it had more or less been resolved Twilight remained silent.

As they finally reached Twilights ship the trooper saluted before he turned the other way and walked back to wherever he was supposed to go, while Twilight walked up to the ships hatch and pressed a few buttons, initiating another airlock sequence before the door opened, spraying a short burst of dark energy particles into the air, which only a moment later disappeared. Twilight then stepped inside the ship, closing the hatch behind him as he moved into the main area of the ship and sat down in the pilot seat in the front. A few moments later the ships engines flared to life as it slowly lifted off the ground and began to make its way out into space, and a minute later, the planet.
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Both seeming satisfied, Jenosa and Alson got up. As they did, Alson couldn't help but notice a fiery twinkle in the corner of Jenosa's joyous green eyes. It was a twinkle that signified a kid in a candy; on a sugar rush. Even though Alson had gotten to know her, she was still full of these little persona aspects that, while he was able to read them, surprised him when he did. He could tell that she was no doubt looking forward towards this; he even thought that her adrenaline could be pumping into her bloodstream pre-maturely.

To think what kind of past life she had, before she had run away, to have given her such a character. He guessed that she must have lived one heck of life to have developed such, and he couldn't help but wonder too.

And Alson hadn't been too far off either. Jenosa felt like this free and energetic spirit, the feeling just pounding inside of her as though she was finally getting ready to fly on her own. The sensation of anticipation in what would happen next on this unwinding path; not feeling hindered by feelings brought onto her by her parents. Her mother had worried a lot about her, and it had always bothered her so much, as though her mother's emotions came to her through some psychic link and into her head. It had been problematic enough that she was felt grounded to a dull land.

Walking back to the ship, Jenosa seem to embrace the air of the ship they were on. It felt...fulfilling to her that she was in a place like this, and although she knew that she would probably come aboard more ships like this, the act possibly becoming redundant, the mere sight was a reassuring step of the path that she was on.

She also liked how quite a couple of the younger soldiers eying her once again; perhaps incredulous that such a damsel had paired herself with a scruffy-looking bounty hunter. Unlike last time, though, she merely smirked inwardly; this was indeed the life that she wanted.

She took one last breath from this ship's atmosphere, and then seated herself alongside Alson. Along the way to the planet, they talked about different scenarios that would be encountered, and Alson giving Jenosa's all sorts of advice. Knowing that spirit of her still lacked experience.
"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~
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Native Son

The Helios-class gunship, manufactured by BlackStar Industries, was a huge, hulking piece of metal that had a reputation as one of the toughest small spacecrafts on the market. The armor plating was the finest humanity had to offer, and it was piled on thicker than a Marine grunt's skull. It's armaments were second to none; ion cannons, galvanic accelerator cannons, missiles, machine guns, even a payload for bombs. The GFed Navy employed them to great effect, and they were often favored by bounty hunters who wanted the biggest, meanest bruiser in the sky. The main drawback, however, was that such a massive ship wasn't the most nimble thing around. They flew fast enough, but were slow to accelerate and sluggish when maneuvering.

A Phaeton like the one Ronnie was flying, on the other hand, was designed for speed and maneuverability. The sister ship of the Helios, it retained the same classic flying wing design, only smaller and lighter. Of course, this came at a price to its defensive capabilities. However, the Phaeton was agile enough that most of the time it didn't even matter. Even rookie pilots turned into skilled acrobats behind its controls. For a genuine artist like Ronnie Black, you'd better have homing capabilities on all your weapons, or else you weren't even going to graze him. And the latest in energy shielding didn't hurt either.

When it came to weapons, the Phaeton didn't skimp. It didn't have as many of the gun mounts as its behemoth sibling, but it did had all the same types of weapons. Ronnie could hardly wait for the opportunity to shoot off each and every one of them.

The ship's stealth features were quite a wonder as well. Ronnie had been testing the cloak by deliberately flying within range of the Feds' sensors, and so far he was in the clear. One GP patrol ship spotted him via visual contact, and was no doubt alarmed that he hadn't caught him on radar. But since Ronnie didn't attack when he was spotted, or even make any evasive maneuvers, they let him go. He seemed to be just flying around aimlessly anyway.

In reality, he was patrolling the skies above the city, waiting for any bounty hunters that might be paying Rocky Point a visit. Word on the street was that the Feds had called in some pretty heavy hitters on this gig. And Ronnie Black and his Phaeton would serve as their welcoming committee.
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Thick padding, or as a reference to a vintage figure she saw once, the Pillsbury Doughboy.

That was what Jessie had encased herself in as they loomed in orbit. It was a white, insulated skydiving suit made for higher altitudes to protect from the cold temperatures, but it also made her quite larger than normal. Falcon was pulling out her sniper box and locked it on to her chest, making it look like chest plate padding as she strapped the last of the skydiving suit and bound a tiny pistol that held several adhesive rounds with a tracer in it. Her job was to tag the ships in the sky area in case there was a problem. He stepped back and looked at her. She was in a completely white jumpsuit while her wings were bound tightly under the insulation. It was a bit of a pain to stuff them, but it was worth it to keep the ruse. The only way they would be coming out was if there was an emergency, or if she had made a successful landing. If she was to be caught somehow, her alias, as well as her makeup gave her the persona of a Ms. Mimi Claiborne, a beautiful brunette with fiery red eyes against a cream skin tone. It certainly was a big task for Jessie to do that to herself, as she knew that disguises would play a big part in infiltration.

“Here,” Falcon gestured as he handed over the oxygen mask. “Diving this high up, I’ll be surprised if you aren’t frozen…”

Jessie only giggled as she took the mouthpiece in her hands, warming up the silicon edges while adjusting the band around her head. To her, skydiving was an everyday occurrence for her, especially at night back at home. The only thing was that she only went up as high as 800 meters without needing much protection except her jumpsuit, namely the docking towers. Anything higher than that, she would lose too much oxygen and perhaps suffer from hypothermia, as she easily lost body heat in the air at such altitudes.

“C’mon, bro,” her muffled voice answered through the mask. “This isn’t the first time we did this sort of drop from this high up. Remember the jumping exercise you took me on last year over in White Land during the storm? Now THAT was fierce… Compared to that, this is child’s play.”

The captain raised a brow as he noticed the sudden cockiness she had towards the mission, a bit nervous as to the outcome of such rash actions. He remembered the last time he was this cocky, and it cost him a good three months in bed with broken ribs and a few severed sinews. He narrowed his eyes as he held her shoulder firmly.

“Now listen here,” he began sternly. “I’m not as seasoned as dad was, but I know enough that having that attitude will get you nothing but trouble. Trust me; I’ve been through that phase too. I want you to be careful, ok? Do what you can, but your safety is first priority.”

It felt like a needle was shot at her arm as his words, to an extent, pierced her ego. She flinched slightly as she was brought back into reality, and sat down as the computer retrieved the entrance protocols. She carefully looked over her equipment one more time, and checked the spring glider on her back under the small oxygen tank. It was nothing like her real wings, but after practicing with them for a month, she had somehow gotten adjusted, though she would rather use her own.

The siblings went 50 miles south of their destination to the Federation base, looking for a civilian craft to take Jessie into the area. Falcon felt that it was safer that she did not just from the flyer but rather from an everyday skydiving craft, just to make sure that she was able to get in. He was not much of a skydiver himself but there were times that he would go with her. Just that this mission, it was crucial that he had his ship in case they needed a quick way out.

Jessie approached The Kingfisher, a dropship that was once frequently used to carry soldiers-in-training for jumps over the ocean. Just that this time, it would be carrying a hunter-in-training into her first mission in a long while. After giving some instructions to the pilot, Falcon took his craft into the air while Jessie boarded the little plane, buckling the safety harness as they took off. It was a risky one, but for some reason, the bother had a feeling that she needed it. She had been edgy since her recovery, wanting to take on something big to sharpen her dull talons on. Now, this was the chance.

He watched from a distance as the plane climbed to a good 4,000 kilometers into the air, his ship in stealth as it hovered there, scanning the area for threats. So far, nothing seemed to catch his attention, but then again, it could be they were not close enough. With the radar system he had, it was not quite yet as powerful as the ones the Feds possessed, at least, not yet…

It was high noon by the time they reached regulated jumping height. Jessie stood at the edge of the ramp as the green lights went on, the bay doors opening themselves to the open sky. Starting from as far in as she could, she tapped the door separating her from the pilot, signaling that she was going. With the oxygen mask over her face, she sprinted and jumped, the rush of the wind howling over her outstretched body. She checked her altimeter through the thick goggles she had protecting her red-contact eyes. It was still a safe distance up, but as she was descending, a small camera triggered, projecting was she saw on to a screen into the Falcon Flyer. As the altitude continued to drop, Falcon noticed a black speck to the right, thinking that it was a spot of dust when he noticed that it was moving away from the edge of the lens.

“Jessie, do you see a speck of black to your right?” he asked, trying to focus on it through the main console.

She turned her head in that direction and aimed her body in that general direction.

“Looks like a craft to me,” her voice cracked over the COM, obviously disturbed by the turbulence. “Why do you ask?”

“Remember during the briefing that one of the guys could be piloting a ship?”

It was quiet for a few moments as Jessie tried to remember the men who were involved in this.

“Think that’s it?”

“Could be, but don’t venture too close if you feel it’s too dangerous to do.”

“Bro, we’re pilots… We’ve been through worse.”

Falcon’s forehead met the base of his palm with a dull thunk. She was starting to get a little out of hand, but he had to trust her that she knew what she was doing and would not end up hurting or killing herself. She was never like this before Aether, always cautious and meticulous of her action. But now…

He quickly pushed back the thought as he refocused on the mission at hand. Sure he was worried about her, but he could not let anxiety eat at his mentality, clouding his judgment and decision making. Her life was important, but it was also one of those lessons that he had to teach her the hard way that he was not always going to be there for her. It was a tough lesson, but he felt that it was one of those lessons best learned through experience. He was iffy about it, but it was important for her to know how to work things out under pressure without support. As he looked at the monitors, he noticed that it was quite odd that the ship in question was not registering any flags of some sort, even on his radar. Almost any ship in the vicinity was up on the map, but this one… Perhaps it was too far for the system to pick up? He kept this in mind quietly, not wanting to trigger another aggressive or rash action from Jessie.

With the ship now no bigger than a thumb from her point of view, Jessie deployed the mechanical wings, feeling the sudden grab as the wind was caught, causing her to roll and tumble before she could bring them in to steady her fall. The dense fabric flapped violently in the wind, as though ready to rip, but it was made for such extreme weathering; a layer of carbon fiber sandwiched between a polyester sheathing. She focused on the point, carefully tilting her body left and right to keep her path true while the wings were at full span. It was like having a mini hang glider attached to her back, only she had limited controls compare to her wings. As she neared, she slowly brought the frames in and suddenly collapsed them against her body, sending her into a stoop.

This was definitely like the White Land dive, except she had a ship to worry about, and perhaps have to play chicken with while her brother moved in. For now, she was enjoying the rush, hoping that this plan would work. Her hand reached for her pistol, and a shot was fired when she was within range. She hoped that the adhesive had found its mark as she continued her controlled fall, still a fair distance away from the ship while she sent herself into a spiral; her mind was lost in the sudden adrenaline rush.
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~Bloody Pom~
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Asakero had not spoken to anyone since his little conversation with the troopers in the hangar, and he wasn't about to break his silence, either. He was focused on the task at hand now; it'd be incredibly difficult to break his train of thought.

Returning to his ship as swiftly as he had arrived in the briefing room, he prepared for take-off. The ship's twin engines howled into life, bathing the rear of the ship in a blue-white glow. Taxiing the ship slowly to the hangar exit. Now the ship was in position, the low banshee wail of the engines grew in volume, flashing into life and propelling the ship up to top speed in moments. Now that he was in open space, Asakero turned the ship towards the planet and accelerated towards it.

There were no flames of re-entry. Simply an orb of crackling blue plasma encasing the ship as it passed through into the stratosphere. The Corsair was a fragile ship, unable to bear the brunt of re-entry unshielded. In fact, without it's shields, it was very brittle indeed, but it's small target profile and agility made it difficult to hit without a tracking lock. As the craft approached Rocky Point, Asakero saw that the Falcons had already arrived, and appeared to be nearing another ship. Tapping in a few commands, the blue of the cockpit faded, instead displaying a panoramic view of what the front of the ship 'saw', as clear as if it was being viewed with the naked eye. It didn't matter if the Phaeton was invisible to radar, Asakero had no need of such a device. He could quite easily detect the ship himself, both mentally and via eyesight. Descending further down, until he was below the cloud layer, he kept his target's vessel in sight, but kept himself out of it. Chances were, his ship's shields would provide enough radar interference to keep himself unnoticed.

Outside the ship, the tips of the Corsair's wings extended and revealed the ship's main weapon: a Protoss neutron flare. What it lacked in raw power, it made up for with a high refire rate and almost pinpoint accuracy. All it needed was a clear lock on the target and it was almost guaranteed a hit. Beneath the ship, a circular hole opened in the ventral surface of the hull, a dome-like, barrel-less turret, based vaguely on a Dragoon's disruptor cannon, extending out to fill the void.

Asakero had always been good at dogfighting, although he'd only ever been in one a few times. Now it was time to show these Terrans how to really fly a fighter. If Ronnie Black wanted to be the welcoming commitee, the Protoss would gladly grant him the honour...
Edited by Bloody Pom, Aug 20 2008, 11:59 PM.
"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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To say that Jenosa enjoyed flying a war bird was an overstatement. While she had been enthusiastic at first to see what she could behind the controls of their ship, the feeling of them just didn't sit right with her hands. She liked moving her own body, not something else to which she didn't feel physically attached to (Not that she wanted to be attached to an actual ship).

Still, it wasn't anything that she was largely complaining about, and she thought she ought to get used to it in case the on-board Magellan A.I. program failed.

Alson also wanted to make sure she had some practice. He was of course a far better pilot than she was, and although not the sleekest fighter, he always made up in dog fights with his 'tricks.'

As he sat there watching Jenosa, he observed a few things about her that bugged him. She seemed like a smiling, energetic kid waiting for the fight to come to her, which wasn't necessarily a bad trait on some standards. However, through earlier observations, he had always noticed Jenosa had a tenacity to think strategically on the fly, and while also good on some aspects, it could become problematic if she relied on it far too much. As an experienced hunter, you need to realistically imagine what kind of scenarios you could be running into; always starting with the next place you’re going to.

And just then, a scenario did pop into his head, think, How silly of me!

"Magellan," he commanded, "can bring up picture from the top, bottom, and rear micro cams."

"Processing request," replied the monotone voice of the A.I.

"Huh?" came Jenosa with a questioning look in her eye, "why are you using cams? What happened to the use of radars and the rest of the sensors?"

"A man once told me to use your eyes," Alson said with a wink.

The curious woman watched as a single view screen filed with three real-time images being sent by very small cams set on the ship; usually active when they weren't a ball of fire.

Jenosa eyed these as she handled the ship, seeing no immediate threat behind her and taking in Alson's advice. She squinted, and said, in a slightly frustrated tone, "I don't see anything."

"Hmmm," was all that Alson gave her. He didn't reply for a few seconds, seeming to ponder as he looked at the screens, and then said, "Magellan, fix the bottom cam right on that area of space it's at, and zoom."

The A.I. complied soundlessly, zooming into to reveal a black dot that was actually a black ship. And funny enough, Jenosa had taken the lead in thinking, and apparently had already compared both the cams position and the radars, as she said, "Stealth?"

"Stealth," Alson nodded, "I'll bet you that half this bounty that ship's our Ron Black. Plus, the color just says it all."

Alson opened an encrypted radio channel, one that only the bounty hunters in the air could hear. "Attentions folks, good Alson here to say something. I spy, with my little eye, a black ship possibly hiding under all of our radars. Bear some caution," and then he added, "in fact, I think curiosity has gotten the better of me. We're going to go play a little 'chicken.'"

Closing the comm, Alson leaned over the chair, with Jenosa already second guessing his thoughts. "What do you want me to do?" she replied with a joyous smirk that revealed anticipation for the fun that they were about to have. Just like she was to Alson, Jenosa always liked him for his surprises; not the personality ones but his more tangible ones.

"Ohhhh its very simple lass: just keep flying like the way you are, and go where I tell you. I want to make sure we're looking like amateurs compared to everyone else in the sky."

He smiled, saying to himself, I think the weather is on our side today.
Edited by CEMP, Aug 25 2008, 11:44 AM.
"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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Native Son

One thing about trying to appear like an amateur... it was a hell of a lot easier when you weren't flying a fully-armed gunship.

Ronnie tailed Alson and Jenosa's ship, curious as to why they weren't coming after him. Gunships normally didn't just cruise around. Maybe, he thought, they just haven't seen me yet. Maybe the stealth capabilities are a little too good.

Well, Ronnie wasn't about to let a little thing like his equipment functioning as advertised stand in the way of his fun. He was gonna make damn sure they noticed him.

He fired up the thrusters and zoomed past the other ship, passing incredibly close to their hull. Just a few more inches and they'd be trading paint in the middle of the sky. Ronnie was a skilled enough pilot to be that precise, pass by close enough to buzz them but just barely avoid hitting them.

In truth, the move was little more than a prank. It would shake them up, literally, though it would be a minor inconvenience - the aeronautical equivalent of splashing someone with a jet ski. Still, it served notice that he was there.

Ronnie pulled the ship into a sharp U-turn - so sharp it was almost a slow spin - and then rocketed straight ahead, barreling towards the other ship at full speed. He flipped on the comm, and soon his mug was plastered all over the screen in Alson and Jenosa's ship.

"Attention interloper! You are in violation of my personal space! Now go the f@#k back to wherever the hell you came from before I blow your sorry ass out of the sky!"

It was over the top, without a doubt. But then again, Ronnie Black lived his life over the top. He never did anything halfway. Self-restraint was a foreign concept to him. Asakero would pick up on that, if he was close enough. Even a cursory scan of Ronnie's thoughts would reveal that he had a lot of bad wiring in his head. Not as much as some people, but definitely more than most. While not an abnormal mind, like that of a psychopath, his was very unstable nonetheless. His sanity hung precariously by a thread. And even though that thread could be reattached if severed, it still wasn't a good idea to sever it.

But while Asakero would have plenty of time to contemplate these matters while he closed in on Ronnie, Alson and Jenosa did not have such a luxury. In a matter of seconds, the two ships were about to slam nose first into each other. And Ronnie wasn't about to flinch.

To him, playing chicken was more than just a scare tactic. He took it seriously. He took it personally.
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Alson's smiled widened while Jenosa was now the co-pilot, merely watching with intriguing interesting and pumping adrenaline in what the veteran was going to do.

That skim by their ship gave him the cue, and he could see from the top view cam that he was taking the bait entirely. He tensed, waiting for the time to pounce, eager to see this man's reaction.

In some truth, there had been a slight worry that Black would fall for the same trick. However, that little skim by his ship, and more over, the voice of Black, told him that he was going on all out on it.

And from the approaching speed, he seemed quite hell bent on it. He let there be a few more seconds before impact, and then he separated, unnoticeable to the naked eye.

Ronnie Black went through Alson's ship like it was ghost. There was no explosion, no collision, no turbulence or friction; simply put, nothing had happened. And then, only a few kilometers in front of him, from the cloud cover under him, there came a blue, misty glowing ball that rocketed towards him at an angle. It was an EMP proximity bomb, given a blasting propulsion like that of a rocket; even if the bomb directly missed by a few inches, the close presence of the Ronnie would detonate it like a mine, releasing it's electrical pay load within a decent blasting radius. While the EMP could afflict to many of the electrical equipment, the concussive and electrical blast would damage the shields and efficiently, temporarily paralyze shield regeneration.

Almost instantly after the bomb was fired, Alson's ship popped out of the cloud, doing a quick passer-by while sending out a quick spray of hefty energy blasts.

What Ronnie had passed through was called a "Quantum Decoy." If he had been paying any attention to the sensor read outs, Black would have notice two ships of the same identical readings and life sighs splitting from one another. Of course, Alson had done this split at the last second, risking the chance to give Ronnie little time to react incase he had noticed the separation. He had then made a quick turn around to give Black his welcoming gift.

Quantum Decoys were similar towards holographic illusions, except they didn't need a projector; the fake would simply drift with the same momentum as the ship, like it was actually a separate object. They were capable of fooling pretty much any kind of sensors, too. This was because they utilized a funny aspect from quantum mechanics: in this case, how particles from another universe interacted. Or in the decoys case, information from another universe was being sent to any registering ships sensors, while in truth there wasn't really anything in this giving out such readings.

At least not a second ship.

The only drawback of the decoys was that there was no control over their location. Once they were set adrift, they kept going in that same direction, only reflecting the rotation of the real ship; they also couldn't make it fire any weapons. They were also limited in use, and Alson only had one more left. Finally, they couldn't mimic the pilot’s thoughts.

Oh, and this tech wasn't Confed. It had been made a by a company out of Confed space called Microsol, bustling in a sector far far away from Gfed space. (OOC: One million points to the person who can get this reference). Long journeys had their rewards.

Alson hoped that his stunt had caught Ronnie off guard.
Edited by CEMP, Aug 27 2008, 08:35 PM.
"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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