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| Reprisals (Closed) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 5 2012, 01:16 AM (338 Views) | |
| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Jun 5 2012, 01:16 AM Post #1 |
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Starfeather
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((OOC: This thread is currently something Aiko, Transcon, and myself are engaged in. While its here mostly for fun, the setting does prevent characters from joining in on the thread, limiting it to Samus, Omega-Alpha, and Curon Hifor (my first character). The purpose of this thread is to enable Transcon to explore certain aspects of his character, as well as that for Aiko and Samus. It also allows me to gain closure on my first character since his descent into madness, essentially transitioning from a protagonist to an antagonist, which was my original aim for him.)) The frigate emerged from Faster-Than-Light travel into the sector, the ship devoid of most markings. It would not be appropriate under the circumstances to go gallivanting into this particular portion of space with colors waving in the wind, so to speak. Only four individuals occupied the ship: A pilot and three soldiers. From within the confines of the small ship, the pilot nodded approvingly at his instruments before turning towards the man behind him. "We've arrived in-system, Sergeant. We'll be within range of the planet in ten minutes," The pilot said before resuming his vigilance over the controls of his precious ship. The Sergeant nodded, brown eyes narrowing in their usual paranoid suspicion. Instead of pursuing his doubt, however, the Sergeant proceeded into the hold of the ship, where two other men were going through diagnostic checks over their equipment. Sergeant Curon Hifor was built like someone had worked hard to gain his particular physique, while the other two bore their muscles and physical fitness as if they were second nature. Many years ago, Curon would have envied how easily such physical perfection was accomplished by people, but now that he was to their level, he knew just how hard it was to maintain it, and he developed a deeper respect for those in the room. "Systems check out, Sergeant. The Wraith Battlesuit units are ready to go," Corporal Tiggs said, his red hair and green eyes easily marking his Irish descent, despite the fact that Tiggs' speech were highly regulated; His speech bore no resemblance to the stereotypical (and sometimes, comical) voice that Irishmen were expected to have. Opposite of him was Corporal Gordon. A monster of a man, his dark skin and hard-cut features made him into an imposing figure due to his harsh upbringing on the savage world of Yintar. Gordon said nothing, as was his usual behavior, preferring actions over words. "Understood," Curon started. "We will be arriving to our objective shortly, so we'll need to suit up." Tiggs cast a confused look towards his superior officer. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, why are we here? You had us prepare and load up in quite a hurry," He asked, and Gordon raised a single eyebrow, as if mimicking the question with no words. Curon pulled a datapad from his uniform pocket, leveling it towards his subordinates so they could have a good look. He pressed a single button, playing the mission briefing. "This is the planet SR388, or at least, what's left of it. An official Federation survey team hasn't been out to this neck of the woods yet, so we're operating with old maps. This was the last known location of our target, a traitorous Hunter by the name of Samus Aran." Gordon raised his head and spoke his non-verbal question again. Tiggs felt no inclination to leave it unspoken. "Samus Aran? Really? Why are we going after her? Isn't she supposed to be the best?" Curon cast a warning glare at Tiggs. "No, because we're the best. The best the Federation Marines can offer. It's really none of our business why we're after her, only the mission matters. I assume you can keep your infatuation with women in check when we dispose of her." Tiggs looked honestly hurt. "Of course, Sergeant. I mean, if she's a traitor, that's why we're here." Curon narrowed his eyes in suspicion again, his paranoia sparking up again. "We handle problems that the Federation isn't allowed to take care of publicly. I want her dead as a doornail. After that, we load up a set of examination syringes with her DNA, and then we're to incinerate the corpse. The nearby star will be useful for that, since this bucket doesn't have a proper deathbed." Gordon nodded, as if knowing that would be the end of the discussion. The large man lumbered towards his particular suit and began activating its donning procedures. Tiggs hesitated for a moment before doing the same. Curon felt even more inclination to not trust this man, feeling more of an urge to slay him here and now rather than letting Tiggs compromise the mission. He didn't know how Tiggs got into the black ops section of Special Forces, but Curon was beginning to doubt Tiggs. Rather than force a confrontation now, Curon decided to engage his own suit's donning procedures. It was probably far better to catch Tiggs failing in the mission and kill him then, preventing any strange questions from Command. The suits of armor folded onto the bodies of their users, the metal plates securing the internal environment, making them environmentally sealed with loud hisses. Soon, their internal Heads-Up Displays ran through the standard diagnostics, making sure all systems were functioning, which they were. Of course they were. Its not like the technicians back at StarBase would intentionally sabotage them or neglect their duties of maintenance. Right? Curon narrowed his eyes again, his insane paranoia switching focus from Tiggs to his armor. He couldn't completely trust a piece of machinery. He couldn't trust anyone. Not since the doctor who developed these suits died under mysterious circumstances. A voice crackled in Curon's helmet. "ETA four minutes," The pilot said over their communications network, and each of the three soldiers triple blinked an icon on the upper-right corner of their HUDs, sending the pilot their acknowledgements. "Remember," Curon said to his team over the network. "Dead as a doornail. No mistakes, no condolences. No pity, no remorse. She made her choices and she gets to pay for them. No deals, no allowances." All three soldiers spoke at the same time as they readied their weapons and gear. "No fear." |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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| +Aiko+ | Jun 8 2012, 12:45 PM Post #2 |
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Roffel House!
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The landscape was barren and rocky, more of a moonscape than the crust of a barely habitable planet. The thin atmosphere blew a weak breeze, barely stirring the cloud of dust kicked up at every footstep. The dust lingered in the air, floating weightlessly until the planet’s feeble gravitational force laid claim on the particles’ mass, pulling the dust back down to the dry and baked soil. It was simultaneously hot and cold, the distant sun shining brutal, unfiltered light onto the rock and dirt, providing an odd radioactive heat that singed and poisoned the tissues of most organisms, while the air itself bordered on freezing. There was no water. No life. There wasn’t even a hint that life existed here. Yet, deep below in the very bowels of the planet, enough heat and energy still existed to support the incredible organisms that called SR388 home. Samus sat atop a rocky spire, overlooking the rugged terrain below her. The three metroid Queens had finally moved on, setting up territories on more hospital worlds. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she had been until the Queens left, and although Omega remained to keep her company, she felt the need to find peace within herself. Her world was rapidly changing, and she needed to clear her head not only to think about the potential risks faced by her surrogate offspring, but also learn about the changes in herself. She left two weeks ago, telling Omega that she’d be gone “for a long while.” Omega seemed to understand and let her go without any argument. She was armed and armored, for not being armed on SR388 was simply stupid, but the armor itself was only for protection against organisms, not against the elements. In a suicidal gesture for any other human, Samus unbuckled her helmet and took it off. The radioactive glare warmed her skin in an unusually pleasant way, and she took a cautious, shallow breath of air through her nose. The air was too cold up here to breathe carelessly, she learned that the hard way the first time she’d made the attempt. The moisture in her breath froze in her nostrils with each inhale, but the cold otherwise didn’t bother her. She mused if her body was able to process the radiation and use it as a form of energy to fuel her body heat. It was definitely a question to pose to Omega and Tara upon her return to the habitation cavern. Even the cold-sensitive Omega didn’t seem bothered on the surface of SR388, although temperatures this cold had certainly slowed him down on other planets. The mild breeze rustled through her hair. Once blond, her hair was starting to grow out pure white from the roots. She wasn’t sure she liked the change, but didn’t have the tools with her to dye her hair back to the way it was. And those were just some of the changes she was discovering in herself. A weak rumbling shook her. She felt it more through the dirt under her feet than in the air. At first she passed it off as a minor earthquake. SR388 was plagued with tectonic activity from its molten core. But after a while, an oddly familiar, high-pitched sound reached her ears. She finally recognized the sound, distorted by the thin air of the planet. It was a ship entering atmosphere. Intrigued, she stood up and looked south. She couldn’t see anything, but got up and began the half-day journey back to where she had parked her ship. At the very least, she wanted to ask Tara if they were expecting any company. Edited by Aiko, Jun 8 2012, 03:56 PM.
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2:55 PM Jul 11