Special Branch: Overdue Reunions by WashsYoungerSexierBr

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

The first order of Business is a Recap of all previous Threads leading up to where we are now.

Our story begins back in May 2006 with Special Branch: Unbound

After a brief Hiccup in the fabric of space time Seryn and Wisp find themselves transported across the galaxy in the Nandi to above the orbit of Boros. Meeting the Crew of the Dagger dragging the ISSVC Epsilon the valiant crew of boy-whores, theives and ne'erdowells. Land upon the surface in a blaze of glory and ectoplasmic gloop. After an evening of drinking, feasting and inventing plant folk the crew set off in various directions for parts and spares Soul and his crew enter orbit as they are so desperate to join the fun times. We quickly meet Vixen who very quickly has an altercation with Needy resulting in Wisp falling off a cliff. We also hear about a group of young children: Truth, Ghost and Shadow being abused by their cruel adoptive guardian. Finally a woman named Kyra McTaggert, manages to charm her way into one of the cells, to talk to a prisoner named Milton Reeves, former Companion and assistant to one Needy.

Leading us fluidly into Special Branch: The Chasing of Wild Geese.

The scene opens with Seryn, Needy, and Vixen trapped in a holding cell for misdemeanour's. Seryn and Needy are released straight to the nearest alcholery whilst Vixen is shipped off to a high security facility. Meanwhile Safe, Soul and friends go about hiring a Hover-mule from the Carson family who just happen to be the guardians of the three young children. Wisp spends this time unconscious in a hospital bed managing to come round and escape just as everyone turns up to rescue him. Unfortunately the all walk smack dab into an ambush and find themselves locked away in a hospital ward by the mysterious Crimson Squad.

Next comes Special Branch and the HUGE Hospital Bills.
The Rag-Tag Posse are all interrogated separately by various government agents. Each person seems to have complex pasts that become revealed. Seryn finds herself shipped out of the hospital in a near-death coma by a member of the resistance. with more resistance help and alarms blazing the rest of the gang manage to fight their way out of the building, nearly getting shot by Kyra on her way in I might add.

Special Branch: The Living Dead
Upon escape they meet up with the rest of Safes crew and some more resistance fighters and after a thrilling car chase find their way into an underground facility where they are reunited with Seryn and ScorpionRegent joins the squad. We also go and see the Carsons and them a thorough what for. This thread also features many LOST style flash backs and sideways with various shady and dangerous characters.

Special Branch: Motherhood for Heroes
We open with young Truth suffering from hypothermia, whilst Seryn suffers through labour, And Wisp suffers a dog chase with a gunship. After a brief escape into orbit we run across an SOS from the Dwarf where things are not all s they seem. Especially the woman who appears to be Soul's long lost love who is now the captains wife. This turns out to be a shape-shifting psycho bitch from The Expendables coming to kill Soul and the mystery cargo of the Dwarf. Meanwhile wisp suffers serious head trauma and Needy loses quite a few more marbles than a person can cope with. After the Changeling assassin steals the epsilon alliances are tested to breaking point...

Special Branch: Secrets and Lies
As people struggle to board the vessel drifting away the astral beings who seem to be following the crew play a few dice and help them out. The secret of the dwarf begins to be revealed but little is know about the mysterious 'weapon'. A brawl breaks out upon the Epsilon as Needy, Milton, and Vixen confront the shape-shifting Assassin, unfortunately they don't do too well and in the final moments Needy cashes in his sanity card and strangles his former protege without warning. The Dwarf finally catches up on they attempt to retake the stolen ship. Meanwhile A bounty hunter appears on Boros intent on tracking down our heroes...

Special Branch: Santos
As guessed by the title the ships are finally retaken in the orbit of santos after much confusion caused by the changeling. A brief interrogation by Soul reveals that the bounty hunter tracking the crew is the same man who killed his beloved! Returns of old enemies are foreshadowed as Kurren gets closer to the group. Tempers flare as secrets are revealed between the two crews. Eventually the crew manage to land and healing begins on all fronts as the Dwarf crews and our heroes plan to part ways.

Special Branch: Loose Ends
As the Dwarf crew begin to finish their mission on a new ship, Seryn mentions an old hideaway of her uncles nearby. Our heroes hoping to hide from the various forces after them plan to hunker down for a while and regroup. All is not as peaceful as its seems however. The bounty hunter Kurren has followed them to Santos as have two agents from Crimson Squad.

Special Branch: Lost Friends
Two years have passed since the events on Santos and our Heroes have been flung asunder across the verse. Where have they been? What has happened? Now unfinished business will draw the all together again for better or worse in...

SPECIAL BRANCH: Overdue Reunions

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Thursday, November 18, 2010 5:48 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

The bar was seedy, but not as seedy as it's clientele. The dancers looked to be one drink away from passing out, and the bartender was asleep behind the bar. The handful of patrons were so far gone that they wouldn't have flinched if a bomb went off in the next booth. All of this served as the perfect atmosphere for a man who didn't want to be found, much less noticed.

Soul sat, perched on a stool at the far end of the bar, covered in shadow thanks to the light fixtures that had been in disrepair probably longer than they had worked. He nursed a small glass of the best whiskey that he could find behind the bar, his eyes darting back and forth at the crowd of people that wandered past the wide doorway, not one of them even glancing inside.

He had been sitting there for several hours, and was prepared to remain until his quarry wandered by. Internally, he cursed at no one in particular. His mind was racing, and every calming exercize that he tried ultimately failed. Ever since Santos...

He shook his head, taking a gulp of the whiskey. He had to stay focused. He couldn't think about the people, the events that had blown apart the calm, collected Soul and created this new, emotion-driven Marshall. He had to focus. There would be time for resolution. Later.

A flash of a familiar face passed the doorway, and Soul smoothly rose to his feet and blended into the moving crowd. His target walked slowly, and gave no indication that he knew he was being followed. As he had done hundreds of times before, Soul moved through the throng of people like they were standing still. He passed through open pockets, around standing figures and through groups, leaving no more than a quickly fading memory of his presence. He drew up behind his target and spoke softly into his ear.

"Hello Ciaran. It's been a while."

His target gave off the smallest of shivers as he kept moving. Soul couldn't help bit grin a bit as he spoke again.

"Considering that you can pretend to be anyone, why would you choose to be me?"

______________________

Soul, Security Chief of the Sereni-Tree, Captain of Destiny.

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

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Thursday, November 18, 2010 8:39 AM

Safe sat at the base of an old tree in the small border-town's main square. An old dusty aviator's hat and a heavy gray streaked beard hid his face and blended with the equally worn clothing.

A battered tin protein can rested between his feet with a crude note, "Aerial surveys cheap".
From under the bill of his cap he watched the crowds pass. He hadn't had work in going on two weeks now; his belly reminded him of that loudly. But still he sat, just another vagrant, and he liked it that way.

No worries, no commitments, just the sun and his ancient fighter turned survey 'plane'. He had put her together with bits he could salvage or even occasionally steal from Alliance depots.
Still it wasn't the Dagger.

His mind shied away from that line of thinking; from dredging up old memories. But it went there anyways. Faces lost returned unbidden. Bear, Grunt, and Jennings had split up. It was easier to hide one person than a group. They had sold the Dagger, parted it out and with their share of the sale started new lives.

Bear opened a fight-club. Safe had participated for a while but the relentless pounding, took it’s toll. He ached in the morning, on rainy days and the alcohol was less and less effective in dulling that pain, so he moved on.

Jennings was teaching. Safe snorted, “Teaching? Who’dda thunk?” And last he heard of Grunt, he was guiding new settlers on some remote moon.
Soul, well, he wasn’t right after what went down over Santos. It was like something broke inside. He weren’t the same and seemed like he was chasing ghosts.

Safe briefly wondered where they were now. “Better off not knowing.” He mumbled drawing curious stares from passersby. “Not gonna get work if you keep talkin’ to yourself.”

Maxine, Amy, Seryn, his ex-wife... seems he couldn’t even keep women in his life either, not as friends or anything extra.

Concern overrode the grumbles coming from his gut. Where were they now? Seryn, Wisp, Needy? Why did things always go to hell...

He looked up as an Alliance shuttle roared overhead. “Well if I can’t earn an honest lunch...”

http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Thursday, November 18, 2010 10:01 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

The incessant beeping of the alarm dragged Wisp out of an entirely pleasant slumber. Swinging himself out of bed he rubbed his face trying to get his brain into some form of activity. He looked up at the digital board that took up all of one wall of his cabin, photos and text boxes lay randomly connected by threads of varying colours. Stumbling across the room he pressed a small green tab in the corner baring an icon of a speaking man:
“Comman, ‘cough cough’ “His voice wasn’t quite as awake as he thought it was “Command: Begin daily cortex search” The screen began flicking through each file in turn. At first Wisp used to watch the search happen; each name and photo would appear and the computer would scan all cortex entries over the past 24 hours for matches. Each time a near hit would be found his heart would jump with excitement but he’d seen too many 70% matches turn out to be people with the same last name or similar face structures. Every time he watched he got more and more damaged inside so he stopped watching. Now he spent the time doing a few sit-ups and stretches, enjoying a shower, checking the real cortex headlines. The search usually took about an hour and he’d check it when he was finished. Back when he was on the Epsilon he would follow up on any hits that were above 90% certainty, now he was on the Tranquillity He’d cut that down to 95%.

He liked the Tranquillity he really did. The crew were solid and friendly, and it was a welcome change to have people to talk to. He’d been alone on the Epsilon for around eighteen months before he found the Tranquillity in distress and he’d been forced to cannibalise his own ship to save theirs. The needs of the many and all that. It was just, they weren’t his crew. He was always separate from them, they just didn’t have history together. The captain was very generous with destinations which would help Wisp unite with his own crew but He never found more than whispers and rumours. He’d come close a few times but he was always a few days too late, Chasing ghosts. On top of that he had Crimson Squad chasing him at every turn. He could tell that made the crew jumpy. It was nice having a neurologically enhanced genius on board but it wasn’t so good that the Alliance were intent on having him back for dissection.

Wisp finished his morning routine a little early today and only the scan wasn’t even three quarters through. ‘Screw it’ He thought to himself ‘I’ll get some training in’. Grabbing his quarter staff and a training rifle he headed down to the cargo bay. When the scan finished not long later a large red message filled the screen:
“100% Match located”

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Thursday, November 18, 2010 10:04 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

OOC: Man...I have not been this excited about something I've been a part of writing in a very long time!!!

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Thursday, November 18, 2010 1:27 PM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

OOC: Loving it!! I'll try to post something tomorrow :)

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My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Friday, November 19, 2010 10:25 AM

Who we are depends on the outcome of the struggle between who we were and who we want to be

Things were perfect.
They had a house on Xiansheng, overlooking Lake Sho; they both had decent honest jobs and a steady income. And they weren't wanted by the Alliance. They weren't fugitives. They were settled on this moon, at the system core living the life that most people could only dream of.
But it was more than security that they had, it was love.
Kyra McTaggert was loved.

So why did things have to be so complicated?
Why couldn't she just let things be - to forget about the past and live in the now?

Kyra laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the cool morning breeze gently wafting against her feet.
It would all end someday. She knew that. Which is exactly the reason why she couldn't relax now, why she could never relax or settle. Always looking toward the door, waiting for some intruder to burst in to steal her from this life.
Or in the market, for someone to sneak up and snatch her, like the bounty hunter had on Santos.
Truth was, maybe she wanted that to happen. Maybe this life wasn't for her. Maybe it never was.

Kyra sat up from the bed, and pulled the photo out - the one that was pinned underneath the dresser, hidden.

Needy. Bernie.
It was the only photo she had of him now.
All the others had been destroyed. But she couldn't bring herself to destroy this one. She had tried. She knew that holding onto it wouldn't do her any good. But it was all she had of him now. A photo of the two of them together, taken before Santos, taken before he'd even found out who she really was. When he was still the man she loved.
Now... Now he couldn't have been more different. The Bernie that she knew, the man that she loved, was dead. The truth was the man that she'd loved died in an alleyway on Boros years ago.

"Hey," a man's voice called out from the doorway. "You okay?" He said, stepping out from the shadows.
Luthor McNab was tall and well-built, a black man in a white shirt and neatly pressed trousers. He could handle himself in a fight, sure, but he was not a fighter, that wasn't his job, he specialised in law - it was how they met.

Kyra's cheeks shone under the light, her eyes red. "Yes." She answered him. "I'm just..."

"Oh..." He says, catching sight of the photo in her hand. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Today was..."

Kyra sighed and gently nodded her head.

The man took a seat beside her and wrapped his large arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. "Did you want to do something for him?" He asked.
He knew about the man in the photo - her friend, the one that she had lost. Granted, he didn't know the whole story. She couldn't tell him the whole story. She couldn't tell him what happened, he would never believe it. And besides which, that would mean coming clean about everything else.

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. I've got work to do." She pulled herself away and stood up, returning the photo to its not-so-secret hiding place. "I should probably get going."

"You know you can take the day off once in a while." He invited her warmly. "We can get away."

"Believe me I'm fine. Keeping my mind on other things, it's good."
She showed him a smile and made her way to the door.

"Okay, but anytime you need it - to get away, or whatever. You'll let me know. I'm all yours Emma, always have been."

Emma nodded.
Some things never change.

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Saturday, November 20, 2010 3:01 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

Clayton Payne had made a deal with the devil. He knew that. But he had made the right choice.
He just wished that she had understood. He knew it wasn't easy, but for her to leave? For her to run away into the arms of another.
This was for her. It always had been. For her and for his father - to restore his name once and for all.
But Kyra... he would have protected her, would have done anything, all that he could.
He still was doing, even thought she couldn't see it.

But Kyra would never agreed to it. The Crimson Squad could not be trusted. He knew that they were dangerous, but they could also be useful.

He understood that today more than ever. He may have made a faustian pact, but without it, he never would have been here, now, making this discovery.
As he stood over the burnt crisp body of a loyal soldier, Clayton could console himself in knowing that he made the right choice. Finally, he was in a position to make a difference.

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My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Monday, November 22, 2010 4:18 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

Wisp re-read the news report for perhaps the seventeenth time. Mostly it was his previous acceptance of failure that made this success difficult to accept. It was an in house Military police memo detailing captures, trials, and executions of various wanted persons. About halfway into the report it stated that a highly wanted criminal had been captured and was to capital punishment without trial due to overwhelming evidence and confession for a variety of crimes. The name of this Criminal was one Vixen Goddard. Apprehended after a bait and sting operation on Beaumonde she was currently in biostasis being shipped to Ariel for public execution in four days.

Execution without trial. How Civilised the alliance were.

The Tranquillity had just left Hera bound for Athens, there was no way even at full burn they could make it to Ariel in time. But if they could drop him off on Persephone he could take a fast courier ship and make it there in time. Just. Wisp plotted the mental calculations of time vs. speed. If the Tranquillity went full burn from its present position it could be at Persephone in 28 hours if they docked at the orbital Transfer station. A class one courier could have him to Ariel in 15 hours, however it was unlikely a fast courier would be docked somewhere like Persephone just by chance. Figuring he’d need at least one day before the execution to put a plan together he needed a class three courier, four on the outside.

Stepping out of his quarters he found Captain Shadow in the galley doing his morning routine of cleaning his pistol whilst cradling some coffee.

“Captain. I need to speak with you”

“Where to this time Wisp? We’ve got perishables in the cargo bay so It’s gonna have to wait till we reach Athens whatever it is.” He and the Captain had had this discussion many times. It was like a monthly routine nowadays.

“Unfortunately it cannot wait but it’s not far out of the way” Wisp seated himself opposite “I need to get to Persephone”

“Hell that’s not much out of our way we can drop you off in no time and pick you up when were next in town”

“I won’t need a pick up. I’ve finally found something concrete but time is a major issue. I need us to go to full burn from here to orbit. It should take just over a day.”

“Your leaving? And… wait a second that’s a lot of fuel on the fire”

“I’ll pay for it. Think of it as a job. The last job we’ll do together.”

The Captain pondered a second then stood up and jabbed the intercom. “Pilotwash alter course to Persephone and go to full burn. Shiny if you can give us any more juice It’d be much appreciated” The Captain then turned back to Wisp “I don’t need to know but If you can tell me what your planning I’d be thankful.”

“I think your owed it” Wisp poured a cup of coffee from the pot sat in the middle of the table as Shadow returned to his seat. “Remember Vixen Goddard I told you about?”

“Old flame? You met her in the Academy. She was a pretty dangerous lady from what you mentioned”

“Very dangerous. Anyway she’s been arrested and is being executed in a little under four days on Ariel. With a bit of luck I can get to Ariel in three days, maybe two with a lot of luck. My ideal plan would be to snatch her as soon as her ship lands but If I cant get there in time I’m gonna have to spring her off death row.”

“That’s one ballsy plan.” Shadow took a long drink “you sure she’s worth it?”

“She may not be a nun but she’s an old friend. The oldest I’ve got. And If I can find her then maybe I can find the rest of em.”

“You’ve got friends here ya know? We’ll all be mighty sorry to see you go.”

“I know. But I have to know what happened to them. Our separation on Santos was…Messy. But I owe them all a piece of my hide. Even Vixen”

“Well then you better get packing. And if your doing something as silly as breaking into death row then you’re gonna need all the firepower you’ve got stashed down there”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ve spent the past two years making sure that when I finally got the chance I’d be ready. And boy, Am I ready.”

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Monday, November 22, 2010 5:15 AM

Safe crouched behind a stack of crates. A group of dock hands unloaded the Alliance shuttle, while a pair of guards stood off to one side, smoking. Safe inched closer to their position. If they didn’t go inside for coffee, he’d never get his chance to ‘aquire’ a few items to pawn. Taking the Alliance goons out, was out of the question. Not only were there too many eyes, but it would draw undue attention to his little neck of space. He was happy they only came occasionally.

“Did you hear?” The shuttle pilot was talking to the dock master.

“Hear what?”

“They caught another one.”

“Another one what, a cold?”

“Oh you’re funny. No, another resistance dirtbag.”

Safe stopped and hunkered down, suddenly very interested.

“Ya, so? I got enough problems keeping the sticky fingers what live here in check to worry about core planet problems.” The dock master ground out his cigarette.

“Oh, this ‘un was a real thorn in our side. Remember that chicky, Goodard?”

“That name sounds familiar...”

“The hospital break a few years back? A right massacre it was.”

“Oh, right, I do remember that. My brother was part of that crew. What they gonna do now that they have her?”

“She’s gonna hang for her crimes. Out in Ariel main square 5 days from now. A lesson for the others still out there.”

“They’re gonna come for her.”

“That’s the idea. Use a little honey to catch some flies, know what I mean?” The pilot laughed elbowing the dock-master.

“Can’t say I’ll be sad to her swayin’ at the end of a rope.”

Safe crept away; no longer interested in any cargo the shuttle had to offer. Back at the ruin down hanger where is ‘plane’ was parked, Safe leaned against the fighters side.

“Dammit.” He climbed into the cockpit and sat for a moment. “What the hell am I doing?! You never really like that back-stabbing... Prolly gettin’ what she rightly deserves.”

But they were right. Wisp, wherever he was, was bound to find out. He was walking into a trap. Safe chuckled. Chances are Wisp knew it as well, but the Alliance were waiting for him. They’d seen him in action, were wise to his tricks, hell they were wise to all our tricks.

“Dammit! You stupid girl!!” Safe slammed the canopy down and prayed that if the rest were still alive and free, that they’d stay away.

http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Monday, November 22, 2010 6:56 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

The two Souls sat silently, staring at each other. The double takes done by nearly everyone that passed by would have been humerous if either of them had bothered to notice. Only the intense look on the identical faces prevented anyone from approaching them. It was obvious that an immense amount of unspoken communication was passing between them, but with no one able to translate, the bartender and the other patrons of the establishment they were currently seated in eventually lost interest in the spectacle.

Finally, after hours of this unusual public display of oddness, the eyes of the Soul on the left flashed from hazel to emerald green, and back again.

"I was wondering how long you could hold one form before you had to revert back for a while," said the Soul on the right. "Ready to change back?"

The Soul on the left nodded. "Bathroom," he stated.

The two rose, much to the surprise of everone in the room and made their way to the small restroom at the back of the bar. Soul emerged a moment later, followed by a striking redhead with emerald green eyes. They were nearly out of the bar when the bartender finally asked the question on everyone's lips.

"Where's your twin?"

Soul paused and turned back. "I don't have a twin." He put his arm on Ciaran's shoulder and steered her out of the establishment.

When they were far enough away to lose any curious eyes, Soul pulled Ciaran into an alley and pushed her up against the wall.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now. You killed people. Over Santos, and long before that as well."

He paused, and a look of pain crossed his features. "Why?"

Ciaran looked away for a moment. "Don't ask me that." She lifted her head and stared into his eyes, a fire burning. "You're the last person that should ask me that. How many people have you killed? How many have died because of you? How many? Don't you dare look at me like I'm any more of a monster than you."

Pushed away by the intensity of her response, Soul took a step back. "You died. In my arms. I lost EVERYTHING I cared about in that moment. I went to a dark place for a long time after that. I make no excuse there. It took a while, but I did come to my senses, and ever since then I've been trying to make things right. I don't know if I ever will."

With renewed determination, he walked closer to her again.

"I thought you were gone forever. Yet you were alive the entire time, and you let me believe you were dead. WHY?"

She continued to stare back. "You may not believe this now, but I was protecting you. You think you can live for as long as you have, never aging, never staying dead and no one would notice? They sent an Operative after you. I made sure he killed me instead."

Any remaining sense of calm and order Soul had held onto was blown apart at that statement from Ciaran, and Marshall emerged.

Ciaran closed the distance between them and continued. "You had no training, no marketable skills, nothing that would be worth keeping you alive for. I did. I told you then, and I told you above Santos, I'm like you. When I woke up a few worlds away, I hunted down the Operative who killed me and convinced him that you were no threat, that I was the real one they had been tracking. I showed him I could change faces, and in that moment they forgot you even existed. I did what I had to do to protect you." She closed here eyes, tears beginning to form. "I thought you would move on alive and well, and when the Alliance was done with me I would find you and we could be together again. I never expected you would become this. I'm sorry."

It was as if they were back in the bar staring at each other, for all the unspoken communication that was passing between the two. Ciaran finally broke the silence.

"We have more to discuss, but we can talk on the way." She handed Marshall a printout. "We need to save your friends first."

Marshall lowered his eyes and read. By the time he had reached the bottom of the page, his eyes had regained their steel, and Soul lifted his head.

"We're taking my ship," he stated before marching out of the alley, Ciaran jogging to keep up. "We need to get to Ariel before Wisp does, or Vixen won't be the only execution."

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Monday, November 22, 2010 1:58 PM

Who we are depends on the outcome of the struggle between who we were and who we want to be

Kyra was dropped to the floor like a ragdoll.
She may have regained consciousness, but not yet her strength. The bounty hunter didn't even need to bind her, he knew she didn't have it in her to fight.

As Kyra looked up she could see the two men standing in front of her, but struggled to focus in on their faces.

She recognised their voices though, they were unmistakeable. It was Bernie, Needy, he'd come for her. And the other man beside him, the Captain - Safe.

Her entire body shivered, no doubt it was a side-effect of whatever gases the bounty hunter had pumped into the suppression chambers. But now they were here, they would take her home. She could forget about this whole ordeal.
Only, the bounty hunter was a formidable foe, even for her friends. But Bernie, she'd seen him do incredible things. Whatever this man had to throw at him, Bernie was more than read to handle it.

Kyra tried to snap out of it.
This was all in the past. The last thing she needed was to think about it, or what might have been - what she could have done to change what happened.

Maybe it would have been better if he hadn't come for her. Maybe none of this would have happened.
There she went again, letting her imagination run wild

She tapped on the work screen with her pen, flicking through the newspages with complete disregard for the articles and images they featured.
Every day now for the past couple of weeks, it had been the same. She'd not been constantly thinking of him, but she had been distracted nonetheless, imagining another life. Sometimes with Luthor, sometimes with Bernie, sometimes simply on her own. Maybe that was the only life she deserved.
At least then, other people didn't need to get hurt. Or worse.

"You've got me. That's all you need."

She wished Bernie's words had been directed at her. But instead they were meant for the bounty hunter.

"You can let her go now."

If they had been the last words she had heard him say, she probably could have lived with that - to hear him sacrifice himself honourably on her behalf. At least then, she could have moved on, eventually.
The alternative was so much worse.
What happened after she couldn't bear think about.

Her phone buzzed suddenly, taking her out of her headspace.
She stared at the screen and let out a heavy sigh. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. But she couldn't ignore his call again. It could be important this time.

"What?" she said into the mouthpiece, not caring how it came across.

"And a hello to you too." Clayton Payne answered on the other end.

"I told you not to call me here," she told him.

"It's important."

"It always is," she answered with a sigh.

"Well, you're going to want to hear this."

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Monday, November 22, 2010 4:42 PM

The Bounty Baby drifted lazily in orbit over Whitefall. Two years Kurren thought. Two years since the 'bounty of a lifetime' fell into my lap, willingly. The male companion allowing himself to be taken in troubled Kurren.
"No. Do not fall into the past, that's what got your old man killed." he reminded himself.
He left the dining area and dropped down into the cockpit. Flipping a few switches he activates the maneuvering jets and begins his descent. He runs a hand over his recently shorn head and slightly regrets cutting off his dreadlocks. With a sigh he brings up the information on his next target and begins to plan the capture.
The always go the the 'Rim.

---------------------------------------
Mystery Man on the Sereni-Tree

Navigator on Destiny

Kurren, Bounty Hunter

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Wednesday, November 24, 2010 3:01 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

Wisp stood at the airlock dressed in a finely tailored grey suit as the crew assembled to share goodbyes. In full credit to the ship and its staff he’d reached Persephone six hours earlier than he’d estimated. He’d just had time to pack, sleep and enjoy one final meal before docking at the transfer station. Beside him lay two pieces of luggage: one a grey rucksack and the other a long case sealed in blue plastic bearing a high parliament customs seal, (well an excellent imitation of one). The party came up one by one exchanging hugs and messages of farewell plus luck. A few tears were shed but overall the tone remained happy, eventually Wisp was left alone with Shadow.

“Take care out there. Don’t do anything too stupid”

“I can’t guarantee that” Wisp replied with a smirk.

“It occurs to me that you’ve dropped everything for this girl mighty fast and this might be some sort of trap.”

“Shadow, the alliance spent a lot of money and time pumping my brain full of radiation and stem cells to make me one of the smartest son’s of bitches in the verse. Of course it’s a trap, and they’re expecting me to go in all cautious and stealthy which is where they’ll spring it. But I’m sick and tired of this gosa. I’m smarter, faster, and a whole bunch deadlier than they are. Im glad this is a trap as it gives me the chance to go up against the bad guys on their home ground with plenty of warning and make em sorry”

Shadow stood silent for a moment pondering his words. “You’ve got balls Wisp I don’t deny it. But for being such a smart guy this sounds like a boat load of stupid”

“Yea I suppose your right. Take care of the old ship, I might be back one day” The pair shook hands and Wisp entered the airlock dragging his belongings behind him.

The transfer station was a relic from an older time when most ships couldn’t land as easily as today. Therefore ships coming in would dock and passengers would move to an orbital shuttle. Nowadays they were primarily used by couriers who stayed in orbit to save time with transfers. Even with faster than light communication couriers were as widely used as ever, especially by parliament, the military and organised crime. Any broadcast of information could be intercepted, altered, or stolen given the right equipment. Therefore highly sensitive material was still sent in sealed folders from place to place aboard high speed shuttles.

As Persephone wasn’t particularly important for neither politics nor crime the transfer station hadn’t been replaced in years and was still lacking artificial gravity. This was a boon to Wisp at present as his cargo weighed an absolute ton. Floating along the docking tube Wisp entered the central chamber which consisted of several arms leaving a sphere with a booth in the centre. Doing his best to look formal in zero G Wisp orientated himself upon the axis of the lone attendant inside the booth who was engrossed in some space opera on his monitor.

“Good day Sir” Wisp spoke with authority. The man startled turned off his monitor and tried to salute. Unfortunately as he was tied into his chair with a harness he merely flailed slightly.

“Hello Sir!” Although Wisp born no rank his neat dress indicated a parliamentary courier which was a rank all in itself and not one to be trifled with.

Wisp produced a key card and placed it in the slot on the counter. “With the authority of high Parliament I Request and Require transport to Ariel with all due haste and discretion.”

The attendant quickly grabbed a book that was floating somewhere on his desk and flicked to the days docking rota. “Err there’s a class two leaving core side in four hours they can make a stop on Ariel. You can be there in just under a day?”

“Excellent” Said Wisp with a smile. “Arrange passage and cargo transfer. Take care with this one” He waved a hand at the sealed parcel and the Attendant gulped forcefully against the lack of gravity.

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Monday, November 29, 2010 5:36 AM

The traffic orbiting Ariel was more condensed that usual. The announcement of capture and pending execution had drawn the people in droves.

“State your business Mr. ?” The voice crackled over the radio.

“Talbot, John Talbot.” Safe responded. “I was hired to dust crops for the outlying farms. If you’ll check my credentials, you’ll see everything is in order.”

“Are you importing any chemicals?”

“No, I’ll buy what I need here.”

“Our scanners say your ‘duster’ is equipped with weapons...”

“Left overs. They were on this heap when I bought it. Most are so old, I’m not even sure they still work. The front guns have been rusted shut.”

“Just the same, please dock with the Dortmunder for inspection.”

“Do you really want to waste that much time? I’ve been waiting in orbit for over three hours and I’m a patient man. Sure enough those what follow and have better connections than I, won’t be in such a good mood. Look at this hunk of go se. It's a crop duster, nothing more.”

“Alright, Mr. Talbot. Ariel landing docks have been closed to regular traffic.”

“Well now, that would be worrisome if I was headed there. Thankfully the farmers have no interest in events such as these and neither do I. I have no desire to head there, thank-you.”

Safe guided his ‘duster’ to the coordinates outside of town. He set down in a farm field and rolled the ship into the barn adjacent. Jack had been reluctant to help. He wasn’t interested in getting dragged back into... things. He had a family now and a new life. Safe wasn’t entirely sure where Jack was and he didn’t offer.

“This is the last time.” He had said.

The outside of the barn worn a patina of dirt and sun-baked grime, but the interior was clean and tidy. Under a tarp in the second last stall, Safe found the chest Jack said would be there.

Inside were the ‘tools’ of the trade and Safe grinned to see that Jack had packed all his favourites. Taped to the inside of the lid was a note. "I haven't been able to find any of the others. Most are considered dead or lost to the black, and Soul's file reads like an ancient UFO dossier, there are sightings but unless he's developed the ability to be in several places at once, it's just the effort of the down-trodden to gain a few bucks."

Safe sighed and burnt the note. Maybe Wisp was one of those LTB's and this was chasing ghosts. His gut told him otherwise, but it had been wrong before.

http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Monday, November 29, 2010 10:25 AM

"Nate! You can't run forever!" Kurren called out after his target. He grinned as he chased down Nathan Gershun. Nathan was a small-time smuggler trying to make it big when he had stumbled upon some big time corporate secrets. The corporation in question wanted those secrets swept under the rug and for Nate to be brought back alive or dead.

Nate's file did not show a history of violence, just a lot of brave talk. His real expertise was ducking the law. But Kurren knew about skirting the law too.

"You should have chosen a better place to hide than that settlement!" Kurren shouted to his prey as he exited the small town close on Nate's heels.
Nate took a moment to look back to check the distance between him and Kurren. But in that moment he stumbled on some of the local bush and fell to the dirt. By the time he recovered Kurren was above him pointing a pistol into his eye.

"If you make a scene," Kurren pulled back the hammer on his gun, "The last thing you smuggle will be your soul."

"Now hold on man, We can end this without anyone getting hurt..."

"We can end this without anyone getting hurt. You wanted me, you got me. Now let Kyra go." Needy said matter-of-factly.
Kurren had never seen anyone give up with such a calm demeanor. A chill ran down his spine.
"How civil of you." Kurren turned to Kyra. "Get up." Kyra struggled to get to her feet, Kurren roughly picked her up and shoved her into Needy's arms, who in turn, passed her to Safe.
"Normally I prefer to have my targets knocked out so they don't cause a ruckus. But since you're being so calm I'll let you walk into my ship under your own steam."
Needy and Kurren walked away from Safe and Kyra without another word.

Kurren grits his teeth in anger after remembering that moment. "Can't do that." he says and brings the butt of his pistol down onto Nate's temple knocking him out.

---------------------------------------
Mystery Man on the Sereni-Tree

Navigator on Destiny

Kurren, Bounty Hunter

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Monday, November 29, 2010 11:42 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

Quote:
Originally posted by safeat2nd:
"...and Soul's file reads like an ancient UFO dossier, there are sightings but unless he's developed the ability to be in several places at once, it's just the effort of the down-trodden to gain a few bucks."

OOC: This just made me giggle for some reason. I'll post something as soon as I finish recovering from the post-Thanksgiving lethargy.

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Wednesday, December 1, 2010 4:09 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

Wisp reached Ariel High obit just under two days since he first got the news. This left him two more days to come up with something. He'd spent the second leg of his journey in a drug induced sleep. He couldn't make any plans as he had no new data so all he would have done was worry and fret and wear himself down. And that wouldn't have helped anyone.

As soon as he'd left the courier ship he switched ID's to one of less rank. Impersonating a High Parliament courier was Very high treason and here it was much more likely to be noticed. Slipping on a lowly government porter tag he booked himself onto the next downside shuttle to Capital City. Whereas with his previous Identity he tried to look powerful and important, his new persona required a glum slightly bored look. Whilst sat by his luggage he began downloading as much news content as he could read onto his tablet.

Now was the time to formulate a plan...

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Wednesday, December 1, 2010 7:17 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

OOC: Made some adjustments to this post. Wasn't really happy with the way it ended.

------

She’d been dosed and could barely remember the half of it. But she remembered Safe holding her, and Bernie standing there facing the bounty hunter.

“Protect her,” he had said. Only, he wasn’t looking at the hunter anymore, he was talking to Safe.

Kyra still remembered being walked down the long dark corridor, her barefeet cold against the metal grating that led to the airlock. She struggled to stay awake.
She’d called out to him, but he hadn’t answered her. Safe had done the talking. He told her to keep moving, and so she did so. She didn’t realise that Bernie wasn’t coming. It wasn’t until they reached the planet’s surface, when the captain had administered her the shot, that she fully regained her senses. Then she understood. But by then it was too late.

“Did you hear me?” Clayton said over the line.

“Yes, I heard you fine,” Kyra answered him. She’d since moved to a quiet place in the office. Actually, the download room was louder than where she’d been sitting, but at least here she had some privacy. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” he answered, struggling to believe her. He‘d told her about the intel he‘d received. Goddard was being used as bait to lure in the rest of them. If any of them were still alive, they wouldn‘t be for long.
“They’re your friends,” he told her

“Correction, they were Bernie’s friends,” she retorted.

“They saved your life.”

“Really? This is the life I wanted?” she put to him

“It’s better than the alternative,” Payne affirmed.

“I don’t know about that.”

Clayton didn’t know how to answer her. It had been a while since the two of them had talked, true, but she clearly wasn’t the same person anymore. He knew it must have been difficult for her, but it had been her choice to cut herself off from her friends, from him.

“Kyra… I,” he began to speak but she cut him off.

“Why don’t you do something about it? You got the means,” she said.

“Me?” he answered. “You have any idea what they would do to me if I tried to step in? Why do you think I'm calling you?”

“They're some friends you got there," Kyra replied.

"Hey, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here. Needy saw to that. I owe them just as much as you owe your friends."

Kyra bit her lip. She didn't want to go into it again with him. She didn't need it. Especially not today.

"They can take care of themselves," she answered him finally.

"Maybe," the man said on the other side of the line. "But what if they can't? The squad aren't going to let them slip through their fingers as easily this time."

"And what do you expect me to do about it?” Kyra asked him.

“Send out a signal. You have access to the broad waves. You can warn them.”

Kyra looked at the Distribution machine in question - it was sat right in front of her. “No, I can’t. What you’re suggesting… I could lose my job.”

“They will lose their lives!”

"No," she said simply.

"Who are you trying to convince?" Clayton answered her. "Listen, i can't keep talking, they're waiting, I've got my hands full with something down here. But i've done my part. It's on your head now."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically before she heard the line go dead.

On her head? She didn't ask for this. She'd walked away from it a long time ago. She'd be damned if she was going to walk back into it now.

-----
My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Thursday, December 2, 2010 7:03 AM

Who we are depends on the outcome of the struggle between who we were and who we want to be

"They can take care of themselves."
The words echoed in her head.

It wasn't simply an excuse, she meant them. The crew could handle whatever situation the squad threw at them. They didn't need her, they never did. In fact, they were probably already well aware of what was happening. They weren't stupid, she had to give them that.
But what if they were in for a surprise?
No, she told herself. Don't even think about it. You got a good thing going here.

She wished she could believe that.

Still, they'll be fine. They'll be fine

---

Two years ago, Santos:

Bullets rained down upon them from all sides. They were surrounded.
How the hell could this have happened?
Safe had taken her back to the others. Seryn and the rest of the crew had failed to depart on schedule and so they had regrouped, albeit without one of their number.
"Kyra, stay down!" Safe had ordered her. The gunfire had begun without warning, but it soon became clear that this was no lone gunmen involved. Their enemies had found them. But they weren't her enemies. This wasn't her battle. It never had been. She shouldn't have been there.

"Stay close," Safe told her. "I gave my word I'll protect you and that's exactly what i'm going to do."
She tucked her legs close to her body whilst she took shelter behind a large metal crate. The Captain stayed close by, only moving to take a shot at the enemy.
Wisp, Soul, Seryn - they were all scattered about, shouting to each other and co-ordinating their shots. She spotted Amy with Seryn, holding on tightly to a rucksack and other supplies. She was about to make a run to one of the ships.

"Gorram it," Kyra heard Safe curse as he examined a bloody graze on his shoulder. And then past him, on the road, she saw a figure in the distance. He was running at a pace coming towards them. Had she not been so desperate, she might have assumed it was her mind playing tricks on her. But it was no trick.
Bernie was running to the yard.

She started to stand, still in shock, hoping to grab his attention, but it only served to pique the interest of one of the shooters.
Safe pulled her down quickly as a bullet flew through her hair.
He was about to reprimand her when he spotted what she had.
Needy.

Then suddenly. More shots were fired and he went down.
Safe snapped his head back and looked for the shooter. But the man he sought was not in the sky, or hiding behind the wing of a ship.
Kurren the bounty hunter walked towards them with a relentless determination, the gun still smoking in his hand.
Needy had tried to run, but he'd led the hunter directly to them.

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Thursday, December 2, 2010 12:13 PM

I've been wracking my brain for a week now trying to think of some interesting way to bring Seryn back into this and can't think of it, so i'm just going to point her in the direction of trouble and any of you can make use of the character. Or she can find her own chaos - she's good at that.

Seryn waltzed along the seemingly endless concourse, eyeing the baubles and trinkets on display in the dozen or so shops in as bored a manner as she could manage, and the guns on the guards with a little more discretion.
She'd started the journey only a few days ago, soon after she'd heard of the capture. And now, assuming the mantle of some ditzy rich air head on return from spending daddys money offworld, she sauntered and idled and resisted the urge to beat one of the milling pilots over the head and steal their ship in order to get planet side.

She supposed the bits and bobs should tempt her, after two years of nothing but sand and farming moons, but it all seemed useless, and the fine fabric of the dress she wore was flimsy and would tear liuke a wet paper bag given half the chance.

Dear god, had she become practical? Maybe it was a good time for a little sillines.

Or maybe not, she had two to think for now. She'd left her boy playing playing soldiers on the deep pile rug in their family room, the long fibres a thick mohair jungle, just right for his little metal men to ambush their clockwork robot enemies in. She was a little worried that he was playing with soldiers at two and a half. From what she could glean on her trips to various towns, other peoples two year olds were just about growing out of playing with their own .. well, they never got that far, but she could guess what they meant.

But he was happy, she thought, they said good bye and hugged and she'd told him when she'd be back and he'd gabbled at her solemly then run off to make noise somewhere inconvenient.

And now she was here, waiting for her transport for Ariel, with not a clue as to how to meet up with the others, or even if they'd turn up.

Though she figured that hell would start serving sno-planets before Wisp let something like this go.

(and this post was bought to you by being up way past my bed time.)

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Friday, December 3, 2010 5:50 AM

Who we are depends on the outcome of the struggle between who we were and who we want to be

Two years ago, Santos:

Bullets sprayed the earth, kicking up dust.
It was a wonder any of them could see, or hear each other. But still, the crew shouted to each other from across the yard.
Some were told to make a run for a ship, to get airborne. That they could “worry about regrouping later.”
Kyra could only focus on the still body of her lover.
She’d seen him handle worse, but for a moment out there on Santos, she wondered whether he was going to get up again. Had the bullet to the head ended his life for good?
The bounty hunter had taken shelter. Even with his body armour, he wasn’t about to take needless risks, especially when there were still at least three unknown shooters firing at anything that moved.

Safe fired off a couple more shots towards the roof of the hangar.
“Gotcha you sonofabitch,” he said to himself as he reloaded his gun. He shouted towards Soul, directing his attention to a Mercer class ship. Another sniper was holed up there.

Kyra kept focussed on Bernie.
Slowly he began to get up. Bullets hit his body again, but this time they did nothing to halt his progress. He stood and started to take a brisk jog over to them, bullets embedding themselves into his chest and neck. His skin healed in front of Kyra and the captain’s eyes.
He looked over his shoulder towards Kurren - he was taking shelter behind a shed door, keeping them all in his sights.

Wisp and Soul shouted to each other, before Soul shouted the message back to Safe. “Clear. Get to a ship! Get out of here!”

Safe turned to Needy. “You two better go.”

“No,” Needy said simply. “You go. You’ve done enough, I’ll take it from here.”

“Bernie…” Kyra started to say, uncertain.

“I can take care of myself. You two should go whilst you still can,” Safe offered.

“No. You helped me. Now its time for me to return the favour,” Needy said, checking the bullets in the gun he’d salvaged. “We’ll get the next one. I’ll cover you.”

Safe was uncertain, but it was no time to argue. He nodded appreciatively and rested his hand on Needy’s shoulder. “You be safe.” And with that, he ran for one of the ships, whilst his friends fired a wall of protection around him.

---

Kyra stared at the Distributor, shaking her head.
“Damn you Payne,” she cursed to herself as she approached the access drive and punched her fingers at the keypad. “This had better be worth it.”

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Tuesday, December 7, 2010 12:35 PM

Safe sat at a small wooden table in the barn’s tack room. He clean and checked each weapon from the case. Not that he needed to, Jack had taken care of that. In fact he had always been fastidious about cleaning his firearms and now was no different.

The antique Colt .45 felt comfortable in his hand, like an extension of his arm. Nowadays, lasers were the fashion and could be found relatively cheap on the black market, but Safe didn’t like the firing lag that was common on the first generation ones.

The touch pad sat off to one side. Words and numbers scrolled down its screen as it ran the search Safe had programmed in. He was checking all the hidey holes, drop-houses and aliases in his arsenal. If Needy, Seryn, soul or Wisp were still alive, he hoped they had made contact somewhere. So far it sat quiet.

Safe checked the scope on the rifle a third time, when the pad beeped.

Clayton Payne blinked ine bold green type on the screen.

Safe vaguely remembered the name. Kyra had mentioned him. Safe opened the information folder. He hadn’t rabbited like everyone else that was associated with Needy had before him, no, he had washed his hands of the affair and had cooperated with the authorities, even turning in his friends.

"Balzy move," Safe thought. "He seemed too smart to commit social suicide unless... he’s hiding something, covering tracks."

Safe pulled up Clayton's phone records and typed in the hack code Jack had supplied and silently thanking Wisp for showing him some of these 'tricks'.

"Nope, no Kyra, no Needy or Bernard, but... who’s this then?" One phone call. It stood out. No previous calls, long duration. Safe typed a second hack code. He only had two minutes with this code before the system registered the intrusion and pulsed his system, frying it. He listened intently.

Quote:
Kyra Said:
"What?" A familiar woman’s voice answered the electronic buzz.

"And a hello to you too." Clayton Payne answered on the other end.

"I told you not to call me here," she told him.

"It's important."

"It always is," she answered with a sigh.

"Well, you're going to want to hear this."

The other search for unscheduled or unusual arrivals at the docking yards temporarily forgotten, Safe listened for one minute 55 seconds before reluctantly cutting the feed.

Check out my blog for info and updates on my novels
http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Wednesday, December 8, 2010 3:05 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

Wisp had been called cocky in his time, also arrogant on the odd occasion and often overconfident. It tends to happen when you get into the habit of doing something your good at over and over. You begin to think that it’s easy rather than that you’re very good. It’s why bank thieves always go for bigger and bigger targets till they get caught. Now what Wisp was good at was pulling down the pants of the Alliance and making them regret ever making him. But he’d been out of his ‘A game’ for a few years and so hadn’t been pulling any big stunts recently. But in the past few days he’d more than made up for his absence: Between impersonating a High Parliament official, Importing a large stash of weapons through restricted space, and getting the Alliance to pay for his High Speed transport across the verse… Well, He’d got a little cocky. But his next move made all his other sojourns in the land of arrogance look like a shy Shepard’s shopping list.

Upon landing in Ariel Capital City he booked a room for the week in a questionable suburb. This wasn’t the kind of place with fresh towels and room cleaning, It was the kind of place where most guests book by the hour using the name ‘Smith’ and pray their wife never finds out. Committing a felony was almost required upon booking a room so Wisp didn’t feel too bad about setting up his own little armoury in the closet. Wisp hadn’t brought his full collection of weapons as he didn’t plan on being able to carry quite as freely as he wanted. Heavy pistol, concealed back-up, concealed back-up two, his best sniper rifle, and an Alliance issue assault rifle. He was upset that he had to carry such a basic weapon as the Alliance rifle but it was essential for his plan and as modded as he dare.

His next port of call was a relatively shady warehouse which Wisp knew sold knock off cosmetics without questions asked. Now Wisp wasn’t looking for a nice gift for Vixen when he saw her at this point. Upon bringing his stash home he fell back to his knowledge of chemistry to create a very nice looking plasma burn upon the left side of his face. It was meant to look a few months old, with lots of scarring but just enough that it didn’t look too painful anymore. The disguise would probably last about a week if he didn’t get it too wet and touched it up, it would easily last the two days he needed it to. When he was ready he placed everything he wanted in the future in a package addressed to the Tranquillity for safe keeping. He left a few spare things in this room as his fall back point in case things went south and rigged a simple incendiary trap over them.

And now here he was. Standing outside Capital City Local Guard Station in Alliance undress blues. He stepped in and walked up to the Officer on duty at the desk.

“Afternoon Sir. Ive just been transferred here off medical leave to help with security over the next few days” Wisp was conscious of being very polite to the pair of blue captain squares on the Officers collar. Wisp had chosen the reasonable rank of Lieutenant for his alias. The Captain seemed late forties perhaps just into his fifties. He had the wistful look of a man who was stuck behind a desk because he refused to kiss any ass on his way up.

“Pass across your papers.” Wisp passed over the stack of very good forgeries trying to look like he didn’t know quite what he was doing. “That’s a nasty looking burn you’ve got there Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir. Faulty plasma charge in the field. I’ve been out on Medical for about 8 months. Doctors say I should be back on full duty soon. I’m just filling in here for the execution then I’m off to boot camp again”

The Captain typed Wisps details into the computer as he was listening. “I know all about plasma charge accidents. Buddy of mine lost his whole arm back in the War. Damn bureaucrats skimping on equipment.”

“Not my place to judge sir. Just happy to be back on duty”

“Bright attitude Son, right Jenkins, Leroy I’ve got your details up here. You’re in officers quarters 6F on the third floor. Sharing with three. Look’s like your assignments gonna be right by the gallows, get ready for some crowd control. There’s a briefing in the morning at 0900 followed by your first tour in the square. Get some rest”

“Yes-sir” Wisp snapped off a smart yet cool salute and headed up into the lift. He was in now, in the last place they’d suspect. While they were looking for someone attacking the gallows, He’d be sat there guarding it. As the doors closed Wisp burst into a smirk and couldn’t help feeling cocky.

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Wednesday, December 8, 2010 3:51 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

OOC: Leeeeeeeeeroy Jenkins!!!! I almost spit out my coffee. Thanks, Wisp. ;-P

I'll post something soon!

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Wednesday, December 8, 2010 8:47 AM

Who we are depends on the outcome of the struggle between who we were and who we want to be

Clayton told her about Vixen's execution, and that she was being used as bait. He also said that there wouldn't be just the Alliance present, but the Crimson Squad too, most of them dressed as ordinary folk.
"They won't be able to tell them apart," he had told her. He'd insisted, even after she told them that they were too smart for that.
They'd stayed hidden for this long, they wouldn't come out of the woodwork for nothing.

"Not even for one of their own?" He'd put to her.

And so there she was, doing what she swore she wouldn't. She didn't need to risk losing her job, but she couldn't ignore what he'd told her either. As much as she wanted to. She wished she could be numb, like Bernie.

Special Branch were done, at least for the most part. Most of them were still locked up, had been for more than two years despite attempts to free them - both by diplomatic means and some, less than diplomatic.

Kyra was not a hacker, and she didn't know how to use elaborate ciphers to send messages to the resistance. But she knew what they'd be looking for - Bernie's old friends in particular.
It would have to do.

She'd gotten his photo from the records and posted it as a bulletin on the Ariel newsfeed. It should be enough to raise eyebrows, amongst Safe, Wisp and the others; at least enough to make them aware that things weren't what they seemed.

The face pictured on the screen looked different, this was how she remembered him. A lover, not a killer.

Bernard Jose Needham, it read.
In Loving Memory.

The notice identified him as "a companion born and raised on Ariel." Lies.
"He died defending the Alliance outpost on Santos." More lies.
And his funeral would be "attended by his close comrades in the Red and Blue divisions." There was some truth to that statement at least. Hopefully it would be enough to make them take notice.

"Uniform Optional" was listed in the requests section. It was hardly subtle, she had to admit.
Not to mention the fact that the memorial was set for the day of the execution, and that the service would be taken by a Shephard Milton.
But Kyra only had so much time to get the message out before she was noticed.

She only hoped that they would take note, and that it also wouldn't attract the wrong kind of attention.
She also hoped that somehow it qualified her to a good nights sleep.
She doubted it.
Even as she submitted the information for distribution and headed back to her desk, she knew that she wouldn't be able to leave it alone forever. That sooner or later, she was going to get pulled back in.

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Monday, December 13, 2010 5:50 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

Bernard Needham had been a good man, once upon a time. But times change.
He'd given his life for the cause, but fate was a cruel bitch. He returned from the dead only to dedicate his life to another cause, one that would slowly, but surely, erode his humanity.
---

Santos Docking Yard, Two years ago:

Safe was gone. His ship was hurtling towards the heavens, whilst those few left behind took care of the remaining snipers.
"You get to the shed," Soul told his friend. "It'll draw their fire."
Needy stared into the eyes of the experienced soldier. He knew what he had to do. But as he looked at Kyra, who looked to the both of them for instructions, her eyes wide and manic, he knew he couldn't.
For now, he had to deal with the outside threat - the snipers and the bounty hunter that had followed him back here. Needy had double-crossed him and rode his shuttle back to Santos. But the man known as Kurren had been a better hunter than even he had given him credit for.
For now, the tattooed and dreadlocked mercenary was taking cover at a metal shed. He needed to be dealt with swiftly, above all else.
Needy made his way across the yard, bullets firing at him from multiple locations whilst Soul used the bullets' trajectory to pinpoint the location of the shooters - taking them out one by one.
By the time, Needy had reached the shed, he had a dozen bullets buried in his arm, head and back. Soul had ducked and dived across the yard also to better achieve his aim of taking all of the shooters out one by one.
Neither of them had spotted what ought to have been obvious.
Kyra was prone; defenseless; and in the presence of the man that Needy had sought to kill.
Kurren was no longer by the shed. He had maneuvered his way across the yard, unseen, and now had Kyra once more in his grasp, a large knife pressed against her throat.

-----
My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Monday, December 13, 2010 8:13 AM

Safe sat at a table in a small cafe just off Ariel’s main thoroughfare, a cup of coffee steamed, untouched, before him. He replay the brief phone conversation over in his head, looking for any additional clues. Almost two minutes of conversation really wasn’t enough to get anything out of, other than Kyra was alive and going by an alias and that Clayton either found out about her or had helped set it up. Also, they knew about Vixen. Safe was worried they had said too much, not enough for his liking but enough to bring down a world of discomfort should the Alliance, or worse yet the Blue Sun, have their ears to the ground as well.

He scanned the milling crowd of people from under the brim of his hat. A newspaper seemed too clichéd, so Safe had just opted for casual people watching. Most the other patrons of the Cafe were doing just that, so he blended in, his feet crossed and propped on the small railing that served as the Cafe’s boundry. Cast-iron bordered by plastic shrubberies. Somebody’s idea of countrifying the place that fell woefully short.

He was admiring one particular woman, finely dressed, as she went through the motions of shopping. The funny thing was, she never looked at the items she picked up, seemingly at random, for more than a few seconds. Her eyes scanned the crowd, like Safe was doing.

There was something familiar about her. As Safe struggled to make the connection, his cortex pad buzzed.

Bernard Jose Needham,
In Loving Memory.

A companion born and raised on Ariel, he died defending the Alliance outpost on Santos.
His funeral will be attended by his close comrades in the Red and Blue divisions.
Uniform Optional.

His search program had caught Bernard’s reference and had alerted him to this obituary. Someone was sending a message. His eyes flew up and locked with those of the woman across the courtyard.

Those eyes! Seryn??

Check out my blog for info and updates on my novels
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Wednesday, December 15, 2010 2:07 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

Santos, Two Years Ago.
After the chaos of what had come before - the loud rumble of ships taking off; the gunfire around them; the crew barking orders at each other - what followed was accompanied by relative silence, as if death was in the air. With the last of the snipers apparently lying in a slump somewhere and the majority of the crew now in seperate ships scattered to all corners of the sky, it seemed as though the four souls that remained were the only ones still alive on this rock. But they hadn't taken into account the one that watched them from afar.
Soul trained his weapon on his target, the bounty hunter that now had Kyra as a hostage, but he dared not fire. He couldn't risk the killer slicing the girl's throat. Needy meanwhile watched with a blank stare, as if willing the man to die by thought alone.

"You double-crossed me," the hunter called out to Needy, spitting on Kyra's cheek like a rabid dog. "I don't 'preciate that much. And its gonna cost ya."

"You do anything to her and you'll get nothing, you hear me Kurren?" Needy shouted back.
The hunter had a name, although how Needy knew it was anybody's guess. One might assume that Kurren had introduced himself after Kyra and Safe had left his ship, but judging by the look on the hunter's face, he was as surprised to hear it as the rest of them.

As for the outsider approaching them from a distance, these facts meant nothing. What mattered was the woman's life.

"You're in no position to make demands," Kurren told Needy, before throwing a rucksack towards them - the bag landing a few steps from Needy's feet.
The outsider couldn't make out what the hunter told them next, but he saw Needy reach into the bag and pull out a medi-roll (containing a series of syringes and vials) as well as a Special Unit suppression mask.

The bounty hunter still wanted Needy. Only now, he knew he couldn't trust him. The only way he could bring him in is if he was sleeping. If the syringes didn't work on his body, the gas surely would.
But Clayton Payne couldn't wait that long. He didn't know what type of man the hunter was, but he couldn't trust he was a man of morals, not when an innocent life hung in the balance.
Payne picked up a wrench and approached with care, occasionally hiding behind mules and large storage crates. He faltered, mere feet away from the bounty hunter. He couldn't risk his attack resulting in Kyra being harmed.
But then he saw an opening. As Needy donned the mask, Kurren loosened his grip of Kyra's neck ever so slightly.
Payne seized the opportunity, stepped out and swung the wrench at Kurren's head, catching the man's arm with his left hand, and pulling it away from Kyra.
Kurren collapsed to the ground, Kyra still wrapped in his embrace, but safe.

---

"It was all for you," Clayton thought to himself. He'd hunted down Needy, to save her.
He'd heard what had happened to the companion and had pieced it together before any of his friends had realised anything was wrong.
Payne had come for her. And how had she repaid him?
He'd tried to explain it to her. Whilst Needy spoke with his friend - the man they called Soul - Clayton had told her what he knew. To warn her. But she didn't want to hear it. She refused to believe it. And when the Crimson Squad returned to secure their investments, all they'd find left for them was him. One measly reporter, left on his own. Abandoned.
The Squad saved his life - they patched him up after the bullet meant for the fugitives hit him instead. And Kyra, she trusted her lover above everything else, even when it meant leaving her friend there in the dust. She might have felt she owed Needy after what she'd put him through. But in truth she owed it to herself to get out whilst she still could.
As for Clayton Payne, his allegiances were to the Crimson Squad now. They'd saved his life, and they'd offered him what he'd sought for so many years. The truth.
Only, on days like this, the truth was a difficult pill to swallow.
The body at the church was the seventh like it he'd seen this month. And it was clear now that whoever was behind the murders seemed to be targeting those loyal to the Resistance. Payne had his suspicions, although for once he hoped that he was wrong. Not just for Kyra's sake. But for all of them.

-----
My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Wednesday, December 15, 2010 9:18 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

“This is Ariel Capital City Municipal docks to the Alliance Frigate Heisenberg you are cleared to land at secure terminal one for prisoner transfer. A security team will be waiting for your arrival. Do not begin transfer until cleared by the Portmaster for safety.”

“This is the Alliance Frigate Heisenberg we read you loud and clear. Beginning our decent.”

All the medics say that you can’t hear or comprehend anything in biostasis. They work on the idea that was that many depressants and anaesthetics in your system that a person’s brain couldn’t possibly function at a high enough level. They also say that the subject doesn’t dream either. And whilst these facts may be true for most ill-fated individuals who find themselves subject to the cocktail of drugs known as biostasis neither was true for Vixen Goddard. She found herself in the unfortunate position of being trapped between consciousness and dreams slipping freely between both yet unable to grasp either. She likened the state to a purgatory of the mind, unable to rest yet incapable of action. Was this one more of God’s punishments to her? A reprimand for her life of wrong doing and sin? A penalty for past transgressions?

She had been locked this way since her arrest two weeks previously. Had it been two weeks? She asked herself. From the snippets of conversation she overheard that was what was being said but she didn’t know what to trust...

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Wednesday, December 15, 2010 10:24 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

OOC: Well it had to happen one day. I found a program online that allows you to create your own comic. So i thought I'd give it a try with our very own Special Branch story.
http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23226
This is an introduction of sorts, hinting at the major even that led all the characters to where they are today - "The Giant Space Hiccup"
Whether i'll create a short strip based on previous threads depends if i can find time. Although to be honest, i think it could look really good if i got some decent pictures to use. This was thrown together using whichever pictures i had on the pc.

-----
My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Wednesday, December 15, 2010 11:18 AM

Safe!

Alarm flared, along with a dozen other things like relief and joy and the overwhelming urge to run over, launch herself onto his knee where he sat and hug the living daylights out of him.
Thankfully years of practice at playing it low key came to her aid. Turning away, she circled the display stand and 'admired' the pretties, throwing glances now and then at the guy not drinking his coffee across the way. It really was him. Sure, he looked like he'd been minced and fed through the hobo filter, but the movements, the twitches, the very shape of him confirmed it. She was willing to bet the smell had changed though.

Her transport was announced. Time to leave. But a coffee would be nice first.
Sweeping into the shop she wrinkled her nose in passing, a flounce and a huff, and not a backwards glance as she ordered. From her daintily stupid little bag she pulled the slip of paper she'd noted her hotel details on, and as she passed back out of the shop threw it screwed up with the receipt onto the table next to his coffee.

That should work, unless he'd lost all his investigative spirit since she'd last seen them.

A second announcement sounded and she hurried to make her ride.

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 4:42 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

OOC: So following on From Needy's epic comic I had an Idea for a series of posters as it were. Unfortunately im not too fancy with the graphic designing but I've done a poster for all the main characters who I know what they look like. They're all up in the Blue sun room:

Soul http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23234

Needy http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23232

Safe http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23230

Kyra http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23233

Seryn http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23235

Wisp http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23228

Vixen http://www.fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=23236

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 5:15 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

Santos
The rear hatch of the Epsilon was facing the direction of the snipers at an almost perpendicular angle. Wisp and Vixen found themselves stuck on either side of the door as bullets whizzed into the hold, striking cargo and bulkheads at random.

“Wisp we need to get this thing in the air now!” Vixen shouted over the gunfire. Both were armed with purely pistols as the hail of fire prevented them from reaching anything larger.

“I aint leaving em!” He screamed back as he slung a shot out of the door. He didn’t dare risk aiming for fear the unknown assailants would take that moment to bury a slug into his brain. “If we can hold em off a little longer they might retreat”

“IF? MIGHT? Jesus Wisp If we don’t get in the air right now they’re gonna put some lead into the engine or worse and we are never taking off again! Don’t you get it? We are outgunned and out manoeuvred. We lost lets go already!”

“A little long-“ it was as he reached out this time to fire that a bullet caught him in the shoulder. Spinning like a top he hit the ground in the open whereupon the mystery snipers began laying down fire in earnest at his position. Vixen not waiting for permission hit the emergency hatch close sealing them off from the barrage. “What are you doing? Open the hatch again they need our help!”

“You need medical attention. If you haven’t noticed you’ve been shot”

“Just apply some MediGel and I’ll be fine. And whilst we’ve got that door shut let’s break out some heavy weapons and show them a real party”

Vixen grabbed a first aid kit off the wall and injected something into Wisps wound. “That feels better...wait... that wasn’t...” He never finished the sentence as he fell into unconscious. Vixen replaced the tranquiliser then applied the required MediGel to his wound. As soon as he was stable she made her way to the cockpit and plotted a course the hell away from Santos. She took particular attention to head in the opposite direction of the other evacuating ships. Wisp would be angry as hell when he awoke. Maybe she could be gone by then? Disappear back into the black never to be missed again...

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 6:00 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

OOC: Wisp...those are freaking AWESOME!!! Exactly who I had in mind for Soul, too. WOW!

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 6:53 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

OOC: On one of the old threads we had lists of who every would have play themselves I went from those. I have a couple of quote books and I tried to pick something that was really about the character.

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 7:51 AM

OOC: I think you did an exceptional job with the quotes! And the pictures. You managed to find pictures that had a Firefly flavour to them.

For Kurran (sp?) I kinda see the actor that played Tyr on the Andromeda series.

Check out my blog for info and updates on my novels
http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 8:22 AM

The road to Hel is paved with good intentions

OOC: Myself, i've always pictured someone like Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (from Lost and Bourne Identity) as Kurren, or at least of the same stature. But Jazaf once said he was blackinese in origin, and so i've found it difficult to find an appropriate pic for the character
But yes gotta agree Wisp, the pics you've made are amazing

-----
My brand new writer's blog! http://dicksquinty.wordpress.com

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 8:47 AM

Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

OOC: I've emailed Kurren and asked him who he pictured as himself. Also I was wondering Needy who you pictured as Clayton?

I'll do those two when I Know

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 8:47 AM

They are totally fab. I really like them.

I've never thought to hard about what they all look like, but would it be totally cougarish cradle snatching to ask that one of the guys looks a little like this bloke http://www.google.co.uk/m/search?site=images&source=mog&hl=en&gl=uk&cl
ient=safari&q=the%20vampire%20diaries%20stefan#i=53

You know, space could always do with more pretty scenery...

(and this post was bought to you by being up way past my bed time.)

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 8:51 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

OOC: BWAHAHAHAHA!!! Yes, Jazaf is "blackinese" as you put it, as is Kurren. He actually looks almost Greek. And dorky. Jazaf, not Kurren. Just don't tell him I said that!!

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Thursday, December 16, 2010 12:27 PM

Ummmm...

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Friday, December 17, 2010 3:05 AM

OOC: How about Jason Momoa from Stargate Atlantis?
And for some reason I can't leave feedback on the pictures. The site won't let me.

Check out my blog for info and updates on my novels
http://drlong67.wordpress.com

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Friday, December 17, 2010 6:16 AM

OOC: Greek, huh? that's a new one. Let me add that to the growing list of nationalities I look like;
-Hispanic
-Filipino
-Asian
-White
-African-American
-*Greek

*stands for new. heh

---------------------------------------
Mystery Man on the Sereni-Tree

Navigator on Destiny

Kurren, Bounty Hunter

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Friday, December 17, 2010 6:21 AM

OOC: I was going to say Gary Dourdan from CSI but Safe's suggestion of Jason Momoa is a lot closer to what Kurren should look like.

---------------------------------------
Mystery Man on the Sereni-Tree

Navigator on Destiny

Kurren, Bounty Hunter

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Friday, December 17, 2010 8:23 AM

Ok, now I want to see what all of you look like for reals.

(and this post was bought to you by being up way past my bed time.)

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Friday, December 17, 2010 9:55 AM

The Man They Call Soul...

Nooooooooooooookay. Here's me at my sister's SECOND wedding...

______________________

Mantichorus: "So is there a reason they call you 'Soul'?"
Soul (after a long pause): "Yeah. Because I have one."

http://havenofsouls.wordpress.com/

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Friday, December 17, 2010 10:30 AM

heh, I don't have a lot of pics of myself floating around.

---------------------------------------
Mystery Man on the Sereni-Tree

Navigator on Destiny

Kurren, Bounty Hunter

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Friday, December 17, 2010 12:25 PM