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Post by Galio on Aug 5, 2011 0:59:20 GMT -5
The planet of Three Hills, west side of Port Havenotte, platform 7, sunset. Captain Jok Sevon pounded down the steps from the platform cradling Taosheng and waits on the third to last. This was his 9th visit to this dusty rock, and he liked it more every time. This particular suburb to nothing was the only sign of civilization on the whole goram globe. The colonist ship was full of those who would consider inhaling sand a more praiseworthy deed than taking part in the system. It's figured that the Alliance's order to colonize the planet was the sole and lonely purpose that the only town on the ruttin' world was built around the colonist ship. Any world kicking its dirt at the alliance had Jok's attention, 'cause they must be good folk. Needless to say, such an unattended planet as a magnet for all sorts of misbegotten sons of unknown origin. That's why Jok was here. This was a ripe recruiting world.
He jumped down the last steps and headed down the line of docked ships. He always read the names of the ships on this planet. Anyone old enough to own a ship was around during the war. The names told stories. He stopped at one ship for a moment after reading the name; He mouthed, "Bloody battle... bloody valley." A brightly colored girl sitting on a chair at the bay door called to him, "Looking for a ride?" He walked away.
He powered through the crowd. He met a fella of unseemly girth in a bar the last time he was here. He was the sort that looked to have been born on and taken root to the the chair he was smothering. Being that sort, he got an eye on everyone coming in and out of that bar... that is, when he wasn't napping. He wasn't candidate for Jok's crew, but he was good source of information. He was also a good drinker.
Jok pushed the doors to the fine establishment open wide. He was the furthest type from the dramatic, but the drop of decibels in the room at his entrance was quit dramatic. He acknowledged nothing and walked straight over to his drinking buddy.
"Captain!" The behemoth slushed.
Jok slapped him on the shoulder sending a ripple thrice around his gelatinous anatomy. He laughed and sat next to him. "Baby planet! How's the verse been treatin' ya, my ghastly eyesore?"
The man's giggle caused a jiggle that would scar a child. "Now why do you have to be so cruel. I didn't do this to myself, you know."
Jok signaled for a beer. "OK, first, protoplasm deposit, I have to be this cruel because the last time I was nice to you, you had your mobile friends try to steal my ship! Ya take advantage of a nice guy and no more mr. ni.... Second, core planets tremble at the visage of whoever did do this to you. Honestly, did you absorb a whole ruttin' family!?"
They both ran two pints down. "You know they're giving me ten free pints of my choice every day just for my intimidating prese..."
Jok started talking, "I need local information. I'm settling down and getting a crew."
The smiling answer was cut off by an eruption of gunfire behind them. Jok leaped from his stool over the bar as his drinking buddy's blood spattered over him.
"OUTLANDERS!" Someone screamed. Guns and knives of all makes and purposes were produced, but the outlanders were prepared. Bullets and buckshot riddled and pounded through cover and flesh. Screams and gunfire neither slowed nor frightened our hero and our captain. He blind-fired with his shotgun from behind the bullet-proof bar, hitting someone... hopefully one of the outlanders. Jok wasn't giving up, but this looked pretty hopeless. There were at least three, and probably more outside.
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Kessen
Junior Member
Posts: 41
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Post by Kessen on Aug 5, 2011 13:11:11 GMT -5
Asher Ty sat in a dark corner of the bar. A set of old world cards sat in front of her on the table and she smiled at the old man across from her. The man was dark skinned, with long lines on his face and a streak of white hair running through the mane of black that sat on his head. "Ace of hearts" Asher said confidently. The man shook his head and put the card in his hand down onto the table. "No idea how you do that." Asher scooped up the ace of hearts and returned it to the deck. "Told ya Corvis." Asher brushed a shock of red hair out of her face. "Magic." "Right." Corvis shook his head. "I forgot." The man slid a silver credit across to Asher. "One of these days kid. One of these days..." Asher took the credit and held it in front of her. "One of these days I'll get a goram ship and get off this rock." The coin vanished into thin air. Corvis was a good enough man. He owned a stall in the market and had met Asher when the girl was first starting to pick up her trade. Ten years later and Corvis never failed to check in on Asher, occasionally inviting her to show him a few new tricks, usually sliding an extra credit or two her way. No reason for it, just folk helpin' folk. Asher or "the Magician" as she was more popularly known around town sat back in her chair as Corvis took a long pull from his drink. "Hope you make it one day kid." The man said. "God knows something good should come off of this dust ball. Maybe one day you can come back and repay me for all your little magic shows." "Little magic shows?" Asher said in mock offense. "This is class my friend. Finest tricks in the verse! You wouldn't know a good bit of magic if it bit you in the...." A shotgun blared! Asher moved quicker than thought, one arm flipping the table between her and Corvis over while one of her legs shot out to kick the old man's chair out from under him. Corvin landed roughly on the wood floor of the saloon and shouted indignantly. His face had been somewhat rudely acquainted with the floor but the important thing was he seemed out of immediate danger. Asher had lived to long on this planet to panic. People who panic didn't last long. She slid out of her chair and put her back against the upturned table. You could say one thing for Three Hills: It generally didn't stay boring very long. She reached up and gripped the medallion Barren had given her, running her fingers over the smooth metallic surface as she took two deep breaths. Soundlessly she pulled out two long, red handled sais. Asher wasn't much for fights, she didn't like killing, but you didn't survive on the streets long if you couldn't. A side benefit of Asher's magic was she had always been fast, always been coordinated. She wasn't much for a straight on fight but when she had to be she could be more than deadly enough. She breathed. Waited. Breathed. Waited...
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Post by NµKe on Aug 5, 2011 23:00:14 GMT -5
Shekle Williams[/color][/sub]
Shek rubbed the sweat out of his eye as he heard the shot fired. He stopped and listened. 'Outlanders' was what he heard. He turned to walk the other direction when the thought hit him. Outlanders equal fights, fights equal deaths or unconsciousness, which, in turn, equals free pocket-searching. Shek turned back around and began lumbering towards the shouts and shots being let loose.
He came to the end of the alley which opened onto the street which must've been holding the 'outsiders'. Peering around the edge he saw a good eight or nine of them shooting into the bar and laughing to themselves.
"Listen, hand over the Magician and no one gets hurt, see?"
"Screw you! You go'ram rapist scum!"
Yeah, that was the bartender. Wasn't a big fan of anyone trying to muscle their opinion in his establishment. Shek chuckled to himself. Rapist scum... always the dramatist...
"No, you sick ol'... no, she owes my friend here quite a pretty penny. Says she was cheating at a game of cards. We're going to even the financial demands and let her go, tha's all."
"Then why are you still shooting, ya morons?"
"Guys, cut it out."
A low moan of dashed expectations could be heard from some of the happy-triggered fellows.
Shek leaned up against the wall and waited. He hated stand-offs... those pockets, they are in need... and there is no way he's doing the searching if they keep doin' the talkin'.
Nonetheless, he loaded his pistol in case the pockets' call became too tempting. Just the waitin' and watchin' game for now.
Tristan Dehlish[/color][/sub]
The breathing had reached a stage where it simply ached in his chest. Tristan instinctively held his hand to his chest and pressed, as if that would help it. He looked behind him through the crowd. No ripples that he could see, no one calling out for justice or anything of the like. However--
Gunshots. Tristan panicked. Whether it was luck, stupidity, or actually logic, Tristan headed right towards the gunshots. He didn't mean to, but his mind was really focused on his followers, not what the shots actually meant. Upon further thought, he deemed his actions as the actions of a 'spooked horse' rather than a human being.
He came to a back door. The shots seemed to be coming from the other side of the door, but before he burst through the door some logic was bestowed upon him. Gunshots, a building, if it's an outside-in battle, then bursting through the backdoor would probably earn him a swift exit with a few new blowholes rather than a handshake and a free beer. He slowly opened the door and showed his hands to be empty before attempting to step inside. It was a back pantry. Excellent. Attempting the same procedure on the next door, he ended up facing two men. One yelling bartender. Something about a rapist and some shooting morons. And the other being a somewhat respectable looking man who was blindfiring over the counter out at the attackers. Tristan gave his most winning smile (which was usually deemed creepy and almost vampiric by ladies and truly close friends) and extended his arm.
"Tristan's the name. Mechanic's the game. I'm kind've in a hurry, so... would you happen to know of any ships that need an extra mechanic, cook, or short person aboard?"
He didn't really have to bend over too much, considering his height, so while the gentleman before him was sitting down and shooting over with ease, Tristan was simply hunching his shoulders and lowering his head, although the head did lower significantly more when a bottle shattered just a foot above it.
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Post by Galio on Aug 8, 2011 0:20:57 GMT -5
[[To be transparent, I like the idea of just the three characters setting out without a mechanic and just winging it. What do you think of leaving Tristan on this planet as their mech to visit? If you must bring your little pet, know I accept your decision with great disconsolation.]]
Jok stopped firing once he got the notion that the one's shooting weren't on an exterminatus. He hated killing but was nowhere close to godly enough to think twice about it... yet still hated it. Every likes a hero with inner conflict. Anyway, if one more shot rang out, he was gonna resume fire. But this wasn't his fight... yet.
Jok quietly asked the cowering customer beside him, "What exactly is an outlander 'round these parts?
The person frowned at him as if he had asked if the sun were hot. "They're the party' got kicked outta town due to an excess of violence. They live out in that wild of the world by themselves. Every couple months or sometimes, couple years, they come into town, stealin' rapin' killin'... doin' whatever they please till they get run off again."
Jok paused, then replied, "So... not good community folk?"
The bartender yelled back, "This quarrel ain't with my work'a livelihood." He stood up behind the counter and spoke in a shaky voice to the patrons, "I got no disagreement with any of ya; you're my business. But it may save a life or two if you just point out The Magician... if she ain't vanished already."
The thought of handing over someone to be killed didn't sit well with Jok. Even if she was a thief, these didn't seem to be head-straight, honor-abiding citizens. But his wasn't his fight... yet.
Some coward stood up pointing, "She was right over there!"
Jok peaked over the counter to see who 'the magician' was. Then, he noticed his unnamed drinking buddy still in place, looking pale. Jok whispered, "How are ya fairin, neighbor?"
He slurred, "I'm fiiine. It only pierced my faaat. Annn I've already had 30 or so today, so I can't feel much anyway."
Jok smiled, "You're a good, fat man."
After a clumsy ransacking of the entire wall of the bar, the bruisers flipped a table shielding this alleged magician. She lunged between two of them, deeply slicing their ankles with two blades. An orderly roll, and she was low and on her feet. Two other shotgun brandishing monkeys spun around and opened fire. With graceful and timely elegance, she sprung upward and clung to one of the bar's rugged ceiling joists.
"I said stop shooting, you imbeciles!" a voice shouted over the cacophony. "I don't her groggy from a thorough bullet riddling. She's gonna feel what's coming." The men that weren't holding their ankles started pulling her down from the ceiling. After a few sliced palms and curses, they wrenched her down.
She then attempted to beguile the unmannerly ruffians dragging her out the door, "You really don't wanna do this! I have a lot to offer! You're throwing away a lot of talent here! I'm so good at magic, I can make your age disappear! Also your body odor. And I'm the best pilot in the quadrant! Just check the scores on the academy simulators; all the top scores are The Magician! I'm The Magician! That's me, goram it!"
Jok's memory slapped him. He had seen those scores at the academy near the end of his term. He needed a pilot that could fly through an asteroid cluster, fast, under pressure, dodging fire, while sipping tea. If this was The Magician' made those numbers, then this fight was now his. He stood, shotgun trained, "Far 'nough!"
[[Let's make this thread like Ghost Squad. Take it somewhere every post. I think we can really start moving now that character intros are basically done. Also, I'll try to keep my posts shorter. I do loath a long post.]]
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Kessen
Junior Member
Posts: 41
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Post by Kessen on Aug 9, 2011 9:01:01 GMT -5
(Still a bit long on this one but I had a lot to get through! From here on in I'll try and keep things more compact!)
"I'm the Magician goram it!" Asher yelled as the men started dragging her towards the door. Not her preferred strategy but desperate times and all that.
A man behind the bar who had a face that was about as warm and loving as the barrel of the shotgun he was pointing their way stood up and said "Far enough." Which suited Asher just fine. She had no idea who the man was, or what in the vers he was after but he was an opening. Asher was good with openings.
"Yeah Drafford." She said to the man holding her. "That's far a-ruttin nuff."
"Shut-up." Drafford replied, showing the kind of razor wit that made him a great leader of men. "How about I shut-up and you grow a brain you son of a gosa covered lasa moving cow herder..." Asher had plans to continue but she was cut off as Drafford spun her around and delivered a close fisted punch to her jaw. Asher stumbled backwards away from him, dots swirling in front of her vision. Drafford stepped forward to grab her again but stopped short when he came face to face with the barrel of his own gun. Asher smiled at him as blood began to seep from the split lip his punch had given her. The Magician's ploy had worked. She had paid for it, but she'd gotten close enough to Drafford to lift his pistols. Asher was good with openings.
Calmly she held one pistol an inch or so from Drafford's forehead, while keeping the other trained on the men behind her.
"Drafford." She said quitely. "How much do you conjure your life's worth?"
"Listen Asher if you think you can kill all of us your wrong in the head."
Asher smiled. "Funny you should mention heads given your current predicament." Asher moved the pistol closer to the mans head. "I got no need to kill all of you. But we both know I'll put a bullet in your brain-pan with no fuss. And your boys know I'm good for at least two of them before they could so much as clear leather. Then you've got to congitate what old Captain Shotgun behind the bar could do. Seems to me like he knows what he's about so let's say he kills... three of your men? Not the best odds for livin' are they? And while you are no doubt one fine leader I somehow think that your men will be less inclined to kill for ya when you're sporting a brand new, frontal ear hole. Which leads me back to my original question: How much is your life worth?"
Drafford licked his lips nervously and didn't reply.
"Big man like you. Plenty of money, good food, women runnin' themselves ragged just to make sure you're tended for. Why I bet people would pay all manner of money to get to keep doin' that rather then pushin' daisies in some unmarked hole outside a town wouldn't you? Fortunately for you it seems I've got some outstanding debt to ya so what you say I let you walk outta here still drawin' breath and we just call it even huh?"
"I don't take orders from the likes of you Asher!" The man growled. His eyes were moving at a million miles an hour, though. He was looking for a way out. There wasn't one.
"Course you don't." Asher replied sweetly. "It's not orders Drafford. Just a business proposition. One in which everyone lives. The only other options I can figure all involve you taking up permanent residence in a pine box which would be both a loss for you and the pine. So what ya say?" A moments hesitation...
"Fine." Drafford growled. "But I won't forget this, girl."
"Oh I hope you don't." Asher smiled. "Now what say you have your boys drop their guns here just so they don't get no fancy ideas on the way out?"
Drafford held out for another few seconds but finally let out a deflated sigh and muttered. "Drop 'em." The men complied fairly quickly. It's one thing to chase after a largely unarmed girl for free credits, but it is another thing entirely to fight a girl who obviously has the drop on you and is being backed up by stranger with a very large gun and a very un-comforting sort of face. The outlanders slowly filed outside leaving just Drafford and Asher.
"One of these days Asher..." Drafford said malice in his eyes.
"Sure 'nuff." Asher said pulling the gun from Drafford's head. "One of the days." She winked. He walked slowly out.
Asher looked down at the pistols in her hand and grimaced. She wasn't a big fan of guns. The Magician calmly walked across the mangled saloon floor, grabbed her sai's and slid the pistols, a short barreled shotgun, and a small knife from the pile of weapons inside her bag. They'd fetch a decent price later on. The rest of the guns she left where they were. She wasn't the only person there with a need to eat.
Asher slung the bag over her shoulder and turned towards the man behind the bar. "'Preciate the help stranger." She said bowing her head towards the man. "To what do I owe the kindness?"
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Post by NµKe on Aug 10, 2011 20:53:02 GMT -5
Shekle Williams[/color][/sub]
The firing had stopped. The men were just walking out of the bar. Shek was confused, but he knew that money was to be had and he was the one to get it. The outlanders were seemingly just leaving their dead and wounded. Some of the wounded moaned and pleaded a little, but the outlanders seemed deflated and none of them had the backbone to pick up one of the stragglers.
Shekle walked out from his alleyway and crouched down over the nearest body. The man was clearly dead, and clearly the previous owner of a lovely set of pistols and rifle. Shekle pretended to talk to him and perform some sort of religious ritual as out of the corner of his eye he saw a lady begin to give him a look of disgust. Her face changed as he traced his two fingers over the man's face and chest with the shape of a cross. Shekle slid the man's closed and pretended to pray. The lady then nodded and wiped a tear from her eye as she walked away. Two seconds later, the belt of the man was around Shekle and Shek was admiring the craftsmanship on the rifle as he stood up, pocketed the newly acquired credits, and moved on to the next man. This guy was still somewhat alive, but dazed. When he realized Shek's approach, he launched up into a sitting position and grabbed Shek's jacket. Shek freaked out and slammed his elbow into the man's head. Unconscious and cross-eyed the man dropped right back down to the dirt as fast as he had risen. Pockets rifled and bullets and knife collected, Shek stood up and began to move on as the other vultures had arrived.
Walking into the bar, Shekle stopped to admire the shorter red-head in front of him.
"Well, hello Ginger... lonely, sweeheart?"
The red-head slowly turned her head and gave Shek the worst "drop-dead-shmuck" look he had ever received. His eyebrows rose and he simply nodded and walked around her to the bartender.
"Wow... got roughed up in here, eh? I'm sorry that I missed it. I've been aching for a good fight ever since I got out of training over on Athens. I tell ya, they train ya real hard over there. Strange thing is now I just want to shoot stuff, and sadly... I keep missing chances to shoot! I think I just need to get off this rock. Bad luck here."
Tristan Dehlish[/color][/sub]
Tristan finally ventured above the counter and hopped up on top of it to get a better view.
"So, you want a Mech, man? Because I AM your man."
The shotgun-bearing man turned to look and scrutinize Tristan. His slowly shaking head caused the eruption within Tristan to happen.
"PLEASE! Even if you won't let me fix your rig, just let me ride with you off this goram planet!" His voice melted into a yearning whisper that could be heard just as loud as his earlier rantings. "I have some bad business happening here. Nothing that will follow us, but just... a little bit of misunderstandings and misperceptions."
Tristan's eyebrows raised into the closest thing to a puppy-dog face that the ugly, scrawny teenager could muster. He wasn't sure it worked as the captain's upper lip began to curl in discomfort. Puppy-dog-face gone, Tristan pulled out fifteen credits and placed them on the counter.
"This is what I have for now, plus I'll give you my services and experience whilst on the trip. Afterwards I'll be gone before you can say 'Alliance are scumbags'."
Whether it was the credits or the 'Alliance are scumbags', the captain seemed to warm up a little and nodded at Tristan.
"One trip," he replied. "Then you're off, got it?"
"Completely understood. Only one. Thanks!"
The captain then turned back to the trouble-causer... The Magician...
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Post by Galio on Aug 11, 2011 23:15:52 GMT -5
He slid a pint of something foamy to her. She didn't look away from him as he answered, "I'm not a do-gooder, and I'm not one to save damsel just because she's about to get brutishly killed. However, I'm also not one to let what's good and useful go to waste. And on that topic, I am one to burn alive what is only feigning to be good and useful."
She was keeping up with him, but he wasn't quite sure if he was. He reviewed in his head what just he said, then continued.
"So... you can be my paid pilot and escape this rock, or I can burn you alive. If those weren't the options I laid out before, that's what I meant to say. Come with me or die painfully. Drink up and let me know."
Jok spun around and leaned his back against the bar. He went over his list of things to do on planet. He didn't need a mechanic, but he got a temp. He may have his pilot. He still needed to get his parts... oh yeah. Someone to help carry parts and goods. Someone who could give and take some fire. What other planet is better to find such a one?
Keeping the redhead in his peripheral, he scanned the tables for someone to match the description. Strong build, knows how to win fights, can take care of themselves, not smart enough to see the big picture, and just scary lookin'. "Nobody. Nobody in this whole..." He faced the bar. "Whoa." He saw the unpleasant looking fellow who previously had made depraved eyes at his pilot to be. "Perfect."
He called to him, "Trade ya a pint for an open ear."
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Post by NµKe on Aug 12, 2011 13:36:11 GMT -5
((Sorry for jumping in, but I'll just post for Shekle))
Shek turned his head towards the pint-offering friendly. He smiled. Free drinks, my favorite... Slowly walking over to him, Shek tried to put on his best 'I'm a fearsome man' strut and then leaned up against the bar, leaning in towards the captain.
"For a kind gesture like that, I'll give you both ears... as open as they go. What's your predicament, friend?"
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Kessen
Junior Member
Posts: 41
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Post by Kessen on Aug 13, 2011 10:02:55 GMT -5
Asher listened to the mans' proposal, taking a sip from the glass he pushed her way. The proposition seemed a bit extreme to her and her first inclination was to stand up and walk out of the bar. Lit on fire? There were fair odds the man was a few cattle short of a stampede. But... she needed to get off this rock. And crazy or no the man had a ship. Plus for all his tough talk the man had come to her rescue (more or less). She took another sip.
"Don't reckon I really have much choice do I Captain Shotgun?" She sat back a little further in the chair and regarded the ceiling as she spoke. "I can fly anything with engines. Make her go further and faster then anyone else. Though you should know that I don't take threats kindly. If this don't work out you drop me off on whatever dustball you find closest, but I wouldn't start stacking the kindling wood without giving some long thoughts to how connected you are to your limbs."
Asher wasn't trying to be threatening. The captain looked, by all rights, like a man who'd seen his share of fighting, and she was reasonably sure he would take her down with no trouble in a fair fight. But she wasn't inclined to being bullied, and she doubted a hard man like this one would want any of his crew to allow themselves to be pushed around.
She took one last, long pull at her drink. "When do we leave?"
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Post by Galio on Aug 17, 2011 22:39:25 GMT -5
[[Sorry about messing up the order. I think it'll be ok to slip out of order every now and then to make the story flow. Nick, of course you can post next, but you're not on the ship at the moment... At least as far as we're aware. > Do what you will. Sorry for the screw up.]] Holding two conversations at once was not one of Jok's specialties. Starting more than one was, however. Like a plump, rich kid feeding a pack of wild dogs, Jok was not in his niche when it came to conversing and recruiting. He figured that's why he had been running the ship alone for this long. "Wonders of Ariel, hold up a minute, big fella." He turned to the redhead. "Today." He turned to the walking armory, "Big fella, I need a big fella workin' for me. I need a hand with the shootin' of those shootin' at me. And I want help with passenger's unduly heavy luggage and the luggin' thereof. Tired'a doin' it myself. Drink what ya can and share your musings when you're finished. Platform 7. If ya didn't hear, I'm leaving today." He rose and made for the door while speaking to The Magician, "Come, you. 'Fore you gather your things, you're gonna show me what you can do." She followed closely. They forged through a dense crowd of dense ground dwellers. "Look at 'em, now. Most of 'em haven't been on a ship since they were brought here. Some of them, never. You ever wonder how many wanted to escape this rock and those that be on it? Well you have a chance, young one." They arrived at platform 7. He turned around in front of the Sternreign vessel and leaned nearer to Asher than he knew she preferred. She might have stabbed him yesterday, but she needed to show some respect, now. Furthermore, the diverse acquisition of scars on his face desultorily rendered by artists ranging from Blue Sun to Kalidasa very much intensified his now, quite austere eyes, "This is important, Asher. This is my ship. This is my life. This is my escape from every rock in the verse and those that be on them." With that out of the way, he turned, jogged up the stairs, and put his hand on the hull, "This is my Taosheng! She can be yours too." Asher gave a kinda smile. He pounded the a hatch release and headed in. "Show me your work!" They met in the cockpit in the rear of the ship, and she took the pilot's seat. Jok jumped up to her and pointed out the window, "Ooh! Look! Big, heavy Meditransport just took off. Time to impress. Do a loop around it or something before it breaks atmo! Quick, fire it up! She'll surprise ya!"
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Kessen
Junior Member
Posts: 41
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Post by Kessen on Aug 20, 2011 10:35:23 GMT -5
Asher Ty felt an exhilaration beyond anything she ever had before. The ship rumbled beneath her, jets singing their own quite songs, the sides of the ship groaning as she lifted up off the ground. It was a symphony. And Asher was the conductor. She closed her eyes for a moment letting the simple pleasure of being where she was flow over her. Sure her Captain might turn out to be completely insane. The man they had hired for the heavy labor might turn out to be as obnoxious a flirt as he had appeared to be, but right now none of that mattered to Asher Ty. She was flying!
Asher swung Taosheng to her left as the Captain asked her to maneuver the ship around a massive freighter moving at about the same pace as the fat bouncer from the saloon. Asher orbited the ship twice then jammed back on the control yoke, sending the ship into a double barrel roll before jetting towards the atmo!
Taosheng broke into open space and Asher found herself face to face with the Verse. She had to wipe a tear from her eye quickly and hope the captain wouldn't spot it. This was where she had dreamed of being for so much longer then she could remember. It exceeded every one of her expectations.
"Where we headed Captain?" She asked clearing the lump that was in her throat and trying to sound casual.
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Post by Galio on Aug 22, 2011 0:08:34 GMT -5
Overlooking the thinly veiled emotion welling within her, Jok berated Asher while he relaxed in the co-pilot seat, "Points off for not listening. I still got business on-world. Take us back."
He stood and headed down to see to the passenger quarters. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and added as if he had forgotten, "Oh, and call me Chief. You're on my crew."
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Kessen
Junior Member
Posts: 41
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Post by Kessen on Aug 23, 2011 10:56:28 GMT -5
((I'm just gonna hop on here and get us back on world so Startleface or whatever can go))
Right... listening. Asher shook her red mane of hair and chided herself. "Way to impress the man you lasa ridden..." She mumbled inwardly as the Captain walked away.
"Oh, and call me Chief. You're on my crew." He called back.
And Asher, the Magician of Three Hills, was officially free. The words spoken, the sentence lifted. Asher Ty was on the crew. At that moment shew could have hopped out of the ship and flown away herself.
With a fierce grin she brought the ship around, and headed back to the surface.
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Post by NµKe on Aug 24, 2011 18:16:09 GMT -5
Shek smiled. He loved being the muscle. They had walked out about five minutes ago, the captain and the ginger. Shek did as he pleased and finished his drink. He tossed a coin to the barkeeper and winked at the scrawny little beggar who had attempted to get on the captain's ship.
"Better luck next time, Squirt."
The kid just made a rude gesture and walked out the back.
Shekle sauntered out of the bar and acquired any spare weaponry that had been left on anyone's persons outside the bar. It was his job now, to do manly things and shoot people, so he didn't regard the acquisition of new weapons as stealing, or even looting, but rather: professional adequacy. Made him feel even better. Not that stealing didn't, but the ounce of honor and maturity added by the "professional" aspect was nice.
Moving through the crowd, Shek hopped on a random ATV that was headed to the docking station. The driver simply grunted and kept driving. Shek arrived a few minutes later and walked up onto the grate housing the different monitors showing which docks were currently occupied and by what ship. Then he realized he had no clue what the captain owned. Hoping for a gift from lady luck, he stepped over to one of the railings and leaned against it, using one of his daggers to pick his teeth, though he hadn't eaten in hours.
A ship smoothly sailed into port and put down and in faster than Shek had ever seen. Seemed to be in a rush, or simply a show-off. He peered towards the loading bay which had not opened yet, waiting to see if he knew the occupants. The door lowered and the captain was the only one standing there, looking dangerous. Shek was somewhat shocked and nearly cut his gum with his knife. He sheathed it and jogged over to the ship when the captain gave him the "head-nod".
Shek stepped on board and smiled. He liked Sternreigns. His previous best friend had owned one. 'Good omen' he thought to himself.
"Any last stops before atmo?" He asked the captain.
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Post by Galio on Aug 25, 2011 0:13:41 GMT -5
"Got word of a few unsettled settlers 'might want transport to a place with less led flying free. Cabin three is yours. Acquaint yourself with Taosheng. I'll let you know when I need your help." He stepped off of the ramp leaving Shek on. "Shek, is it? You do me or mine wrong, now or ever, I'll put you down faster than you could ask me not to."
A hard face from Shek signaled in a non-cowed way that he understood.
Inviting a brute like this on board was a risky move, and Jok knew it. His position wasn't a crucial one, but he would make life much easier... if he didn't try anything stupid.
As he walked to the address of the supposed planet evacuees, he grabbed his radio off of his shoulder, "Asher, you still in the cockpit?"
A "yes" came back.
"I let a large ruffian with guns loose in the ship. Don't stab him, and don't speak to him till I get back. Get what you need from this world before we leave it. Engines burn in 20 minutes."
He arrived at a door that looked like it was made of a small section of a junk yard. It likely was. He was going to knock three times, but only made it to two before a small slit in the door slid open.
An anxious voice demanded in a thick Chinese accent, "Do you answer to 'Chief'?" The words sounded rehearsed.
Jok moved to the side of the door and answered, "If you're my crew."
"You got our wave. When can we leave?"
Something seemed suspicious, but Jok replied, "Whenever you're ready. Also, now is good."
A Chinese man, woman, and child burst out of the door with bags in hands. "We ready now" The man said. There was terror behind his eyes.
Jok gave an understanding/irritated look. "I see. This way." They moved through the crowd at a rapid pace. Jok grabbed his radio again, "Asher, you there?" No response. "Shek, if you're there, you can touch the radio." Still no response. Jok sighed in frustration. "Shek, if you can't figure out the simplicity of the ruttin' radio, then just listen. I'm five minutes out, and I've got our passenge..." Gunshots erupted behind them and bullets viciously tore through the air inches above their heads.
Everyone in the street scrambled for cover, hit the ground, or pulled their own weapons. Over the cacophony of gunfire and shouting, Jok roared into the radio, "Shek, I'm in need of your assist, right now! We're in front of platform... 4! Time to impress!"
Jok crawled to cover, pointlessly shooting back with his pistol, pushing some of the family, and dragging the rest. "Friends of yours?" Jok remarked. They weathered a hailstorm of gunfire from behind a steel cargo container for at least twenty seconds. Still no sign of Shek. Jaw clenched and teeth bared, Jok spat, "Where is that yuchun de guaiwu?!"
(Translation: Stupid monster)
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