VFF The Book Continues part 5

*abbey looks for Brit for a while after she had disappeared with the rest of her fruity-oatey bars, but the girl is either too fast or she hides too well.*

abbey *under her breath*: Gorram girl stole my bars. What kind if person would do that? It's rude.

*She wanders around the ship some more thinking and making a half-hearted attempt of finding Brit. Finally she gives up and goes to get something else. She rummages around until she finds what she is looking for, grabs a handful and shoves them in her pocket. She replaces the box to where she found it and returns to her shuttle to hide them away for later.*

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*By the time he's rearranged the port side of the cargo hold and found the axillary tow cable, Stan has formed the basis of his plan for the first part of the job he's been given. He takes the tow cable, the needed fastening equipment and some spare rope and deposits them in the port shuttle. He also stops in the cockpit and transfers the navigational data for the destination from the Book's main computers.. After he heads up to the gallery, passing Abbey on his way.*

Abbey: "Good morning."

Stan: "G'morning. Are you ok?"

Abbey: "What?"

Stan: "Just wondering how you're feeling. Haven't seen you much since the... occurrence.. the other night."

Abbey: "Oh, yeah I'm fine."

Stan: "Nice to hear...

Abbey: "Seeya later, Stan."

*Stan continues up to the galley where Mobbex is seated at the table, slowly sipping a glass of water and chewing on a piece of bread. He gets up and heads out as Stan walks over to the kitchen nook and washes his hands before making a cup of sweetened, iced tea.*

Mobbex: *Mumbles on his way out* "...be in my bunk fer a few."

*Leaving his tea to steep and cool Stan walks over to the small observation lounge and sits down in one of the old plush chairs. leaning his head back to look out the circular dome above him. He hears someone enter, shuffle about for a moment then leave, but doesn't pay any attention. He goes over his plan in his head and tries to think of anything else he might need.*

"Oi, this is going to be fun... Coaster.. Isn't he that guy who tried to sell a stolen turtle to the school nurse? Yeah.. between him and Mobbex this is going to be a romp through the nut house."

*The small ding of the timer alerts him that it's time to take the bags out of the tea. A short while later he's walking back down to his dorm, a glass of dark brownish red tea with cubed ice in his hand. He places it on the box/table and pulls the vest from under his cot. Unzipping his coveralls half way he shrugs off the sleeves and pulls on the flak jacket over his t-shirt. The fit is somewhat loose, but after about a half hour of minor adjustments he feels it fits adequately enough. He removes the vest and stows it back under his cot for later. Pulling the top half of the coveralls back on he zips it up most of the way and pulls his data pad out from under his mattress. Checking the battery cells, three quarters charged, he tucks it into the mid-hip pocket. Leaving his room he sips the last of his tea and heads back up to the galley. After quickly washing the glass and putting it away, Stan heads through the door to the port shuttle to shuffle it's contents around and move some of the boxes and crates down to the hold temporarely.*


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"True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read" Gaius Plinius Secundus

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________________________________
WOW, impressive.(prairie dogs!? lmao)

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*Stan spends an hour finishing the preparations, half of that spent moving some of the heavier crates from the port shuttle to the cargo hold. The rest he spends pouring over charts and maps of the region of Newhall where they'll be working. After finding a few viable locations he goes looking for the captain, finding him eating an early lunch in the galley.*

Stan: "Captain?"

Colt: "Hi Stan. How's it goin'."

Stan:" Well, I was looking at some maps of the area where we'll be... found a nice quiet place we can land and leave the ship. It's only a couple dozen miles from the estate."

Colt: "Can I see that?"

*Stan hands him his databook, the small screen showing an enlarged topographical view of a handful of small sandy atolls.*

Colt: *After a few moments studying the map.* "Looks good, no structures or people. Who owns it?"

Stan: "It's owned by a small sub-oceanic mining conglomerate.... not alot of that on Newhall, the laws are very strict about pollution and.. anyway they never use the islands, at least not that I can tell."

Colt: "Alright. What about the goods, this Coaster fellow? You tell Mobbex yet?"

Stan: "Yeah, he wasn't very happy. He said he'd be in his bunk awhile."

*Colt eyes the map a minute longer, nods then passes it back to Stan."

Colt: "Ok, go give the coordinates to Wash so she can set it up."

Stan: "Will do, also.. we'll need to arrange somethings for the pick-up."

*Sky walks in about that moment, walking over to stand beside the captain. Stan glances at her.*

Colt: "Oh? What's that...?"

Stan: "Here's what I was thinking...."


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"True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read" Gaius Plinius Secundus

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Colt sat in his bunk pouring over the blueprints for the estate and the maps that Stan had given him. This whole thing was starting to make him more and more unsettled.

His main concern was that Badger’s intel was wrong. The estate wasn’t on land; it was a gorram floating island. He sighed because he should have known that, since Newhall is a planet covered mostly by water. But he assumed Badger would have had better information since he wanted to teach this guy a lesson. If you went by the saying from Earth-that-Was, that made Colt an ass.

But the money was good and they needed it. Abbey’s deposit for the rent wouldn’t last them forever. The crew needed to be paid and that hadn’t happened for a long while. He promised them some risky ventures that would bring in some high returns, not low paying milk runs.

But his crew was a mix of people of varying experience. He wasn’t worried about himself, Sky, Mobbex or, for some reason, Brit. Wash and Spots could probably handle themselves in a regular fight, but this kind of operation wasn’t their cup of tea. Colt didn’t know Stan all that well yet, but based on the fight on Greenleaf and the job on Whitefall, he wasn’t feeling comfortable about his ability for much hand-to-hand combat. Oram wasn’t a hard core fighter either, but she wasn’t afraid of much and that’s not nothing. That left only abbey.

He closed his eyes and thought about her. She shouldn’t even be going. He didn’t know why he even let her talk him into letting her come. Sure she was a heck of a shot. And she had guts. She’d gone toe-to-toe in a fight with a couple of people since he’d known her (him included), but that was mostly verbal. She had a certain vulnerability underneath that tough exterior of hers that he couldn’t put a finger on. But his main reason was just because it was abbey. His abbey. He smiled when he thought of referring to her that way. He hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a very long time.

This job had the definite potential to go very bad, very quick. He rubbed his eyes in frustration and went back to the plans, wanting to commit every piece of information to memory.

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*A couple hours later. Book has entered orbit, the port shuttle has left and the crew is preparing for the job.*

Stan: "You didn't take a shower... did you?"

*Stan and Mobbex are in Shuttle No2, in route to the island, and city, of Little Port. Stan is piloting the shuttle while Mobbex sits in the fold down seat, directly behind the pilots chair. Beneath them the deep azure waters of Newhall stretch to the horizon in all directions.*

Mobbex: "Why the hell do you care if I shower or not?"

Stan: "Yeah, I don't care if I have to sit in the cockpit of a shuttle and smell you all the way to, and back from, this stupid deal."

Mobbex: *Under his breath* "Pó pó mā mā de."

Stan: *Turning around* "What? I'd rather do this on my own, but the captain practically ordered me to take you. Seriously, I'm tempted to turn the shuttle around."

"..Or dump your worthless ass out over the ocean..." *He grins evilly so Mobbex cannot see him.*

*Mobbex leans forward, behind Stan, and makes like he's ready to throttle him. He growls, swears silently and thinks better of it. He stands and leaves the cockpit.*

*The shuttle continues on for more than an hour, finally arriving at their destination. A large bustling city covers most of the north half of the main island. After twenty minutes of negotiating a landing zone they set down in the space docks on the west side of the city. Stan banters easily with the local control station comm moniter. Asking him about the location of Coaster, after a long pause the man answers quietly, apparently so he's not overheard by his supervisor. Having the location of a strip bar were the fence might be found, Stan and the burly mercenary head off to find him.*

*A short walk to a slummy section of Little Port, and they've come upon the place. A damaged sign out front identifies the bar as "José’s" and has a neon sign hanging beneath reading "Nude Girls"*

Mobbex: "Maybe this ain't such a bad day.. heh?"

*Stan silently curses his luck and strides ahead of Mobbex to the door.*


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"True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read" Gaius Plinius Secundus

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The door squeaks on its hinges as Stan throws it wide. The establishment has all the looks of a typical back alley tavern. A handful of scarce patrons sit with their head stooped over their liquor, apparently impervious to the scent of smoke mixed with various body odors and the suffocating humidity that fill the air. At the far end of the bar, a dozen of run-down wooden crates are arranged into a makeshift podium, which currently lies empty. Mobbex screws up his eyes, trying to peer through the dim lighting and the haze of noxious fumes as he looks for a man matching Coaster's description.

Mobbex: Y'see him? I don't see him...

Stan: Hmm... *runs his gaze across the room* ...nope. He must've gotten held up somewhere.

Mobbex: That, or he's done his homework and rightfully figured that we ain't worth the bother. 'Can't say I'd blame him, we must've gotten ourself one bear-humpin' sucker of a bad rep by now. Anyways, I'm thinkin' I'll just head over there an' grab myself a drink or ten. Like me, follow me...

Stan reaches out a hand and loops it around the mercenary's forearm.

Stan: Hang on a second, the only reason you're here is because I need someone to have my back in case the deal goes south, not so you can have a go at the local brew.

Mobbex: Listen up, kid, I dunno how you got it into your head that y're the one callin' the shots on this leg, but I'm warnin' ya: y' don't cut down on the high an' mighty fèi huà, y'll find yerself short of a chaperon, dong mà?

Stan: And what are you gonna do? Swim all the way back to the ship?

Mobbex: *smiles conceitedly* You'd be surprised how easy it is for a man like me to hitch a ride.

Stan: Be that as it may, you know walking out on me right now isn't gonna fly with the others...

Mobbex: Whoever said anything about heading back to the ship?

Stan raises a dubious eyebrow but fails to think up a viable retort. Mobbex's grin widens.

Mobbex: *jerks his arm out of Stan's withering grip* Now if y'll excuse me, I'm gonna go get my booze on.

Stan stands unmoving as the hulking mercenary strides away.

I just got stumped by an oversized oaf who's grey matter hardly outweighs that of a retarded seagull, he mutters to himself as he grudgingly follows in Mobbex's trail. I suppose there's solace to be found in the fact that this day cannot possibly get any worse.



Secret Agent Stan: The ducks have settled in the coffee shop......

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*Stan shakes his head then follows Mobbex over to the greasy bar. After the large man orders whatever beer they have on tap, Stan motions to the bartender, who serves Mobbex then moves down to where Stan is standing and leans forward onto the bar. Stan also leans in.*

Bartender: "E'yeah, what'da need kid?

Stan: "You know of on man named Coaster? Large fellow, dark, crazy hair?"

Bartender: "Wha.. now..? Nope. No moke named Coaster Brenk 'round here, brah."

Stan: "Oh, that's too bad. Though... you know? I never said his last name."

*The bartender swears, walks a ways down the bar and picks up a small hand comm. After a few words spoken quietly, he replaces it under the bar and returns.*

Bartender: "Sorry 'bout that, we gotta rule 'bout our cusmers. You dun look bad, but Coaster dun like bein' 'sturbed. He'll be right out."

*With that the bartender leaves through a door into what is presumably the kitchen. Stan takes a seat at the bar a few stools down from Mobbex, who is now halfway through his first pint of beer. After about four minutes of waiting a door to the left of the makeshift stage opens, and a huge, mocha-skinned man with crazy reddish-blond dreadlocks and thick dark sunglasses enters the room, followed by a tall, leggy blond in a skimpy outfit and a small ratty looking fellow in a moth-eaten coat. The large man lumbers over to stand infront of Stan, eying him suspiciously before clapping him roughly on the shoulder.*

Dreadlocks: "STAN! Wha' da hell ya doin' here?? Las' I hears you been geet'n off this fkin' pss rock!

Stan: "Coaster... You've..."

Coaster: "Yeah, I's got plenny momona o'er da years.. wha' da fk it to you, eh?"

Stan: "No... uh... brah, I meant you've grown the dreads out. They look good."

*Coaster grins widely, reaching up and fiddling with one of the many rings and beads in his insane mess of hair.*

Coaster: "Tank yous, you alway been nice one. Not like the lolo you alway run with, Joey. Him and hee's family, they always tryin' ta fk me up, knows? E'er since I's roach dat shipments of cow sheet from... iny kine... not need a worries about that now, eh? Bidness, Joey give me call. I tol' him a go fk off but hee's got an offer I can't 'ford to inore. Also not you's worries.... you comed here by youself?" *Coaster glances around the room, making note of the one person he isn't familiar with.* "Dat you frin there's? Dee bigs one dere, dinkin'?"

Stan: "I wouldn't call him a friend... no.. but yeah. He's with me."

Coaster: "Fair 'nuff, you two come wit me. We got get you stuff... you got da green right?"

Stan: "Yeah, if you have the stuff. I want to see if first... if that's no issue."

Coaster: *Patting the air with one hand* "Nah nah essue, we go now. Get you man there and come wit... oh an.. dees my 'ssociates, Blossom and Squeaks.. day no bother no ones."

*Stan nudges Mobbex as Coaster and his people leave the building. The mercenary grumbles and glares at him.*

Mobbex: "What? There a problem?"

Stan: "Come on, we're going with them to get the stuff."

Mobbex: "No, I want to stay here and finish my booze."

Stan: "Sorry, no.. we're working. Now come on."

*Mobbex snarls angrily and stands up, taking his recently refilled beer mug with him. The bartender, who has since returned with a crate of mugs, moves to stop him but freezes as the hugely muscled man glares at him threateningly. As if to say "Fair enough" the bartender shrugs, grins weakly, and goes back to placing the freshly "cleaned" mugs on the rack over the bar.*

Mobbex: *Grinning cockily* "Now that's service!"

*He chuckles to himself as they exit the bar. Outside Coaster, the blond and the creepy little man are all sitting in a large but rundown hover transport. Mobbex eyes them suspiciously, but climbs in and sits next to the blond. Stan hops up into the front passenger's seat. A few minutes of travel time and they've arrived at a large warehouse near the docks. It's walls are a patchwork of scrap

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*Out of his peripheral vision, a movement caught his eye. It was abbey, running up the stairs and across the catwalks. Puzzled, he watched her, but was brought back to task when Spots and Sky approach him.*

Sky *sarcastically*: Whatcha' watching?

*Colt gave her a withering look as deflects her attention to the items Stan acquired for the job. He gave the red box containing the comms to her.*

Sky, here is the tech that Stan got from his contact. I’d like you to check them over and make sure they all work. We can’t afford for anyone’s to malfunction while we are on the estate.

Sky *opens the box and looks in*: Not bad, Captain. Looks like some fairly quality stuff.

*She quickly left to inspect the merchandise. Colt looked up again and saw abbey running across the top catwalk, making her way over to the opposite set of stairs. She was obviously working out.*

Spots: Captain?

*Colt is still slightly distracted.*

What?

Spots *as he gave Colt a strange look*: You need me for anything?

*Colt snapped his attention back to Spots.*

Oh! That's the boat that you’ll be driving to get us under the estate. Make sure you are familiar with the controls and that you’ll have room for your gear. I think we’ll have a few minutes once we load up for you to get a test spin. Rather do that then with a full load so you can see how it handles.

Spots *as he watched Colt shift his attention back up to abbey’s activities*: Yes, sir. I’m on it.

*Colt watched her as she made another whole lap. She had an intense look on her face and didn’t seem to notice any of the activity below her. When she passed across the lowest catwalk, he decided to catch up to her.*

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*abbey could feel someone running… no clomping… up the stairs behind her. She knew who was because she saw him watching her from the cargo bay floor. She needed to think and didn’t want to be interrupted, so she pressed on, picking up speed. Before she knew it, she was well out in front of him and he had stopped, trying to catch his breath. As she traveled over to the other side of the cargo bay, she looked up and saw that he was no longer there. So she decided to finish up before he came back.*

*She retreated into her shuttle and closed the door. She started to reach for the towel she had laid out, but it was gone.*

Colt *holding the towel and he leaned up against the wall*: Looking for this, darling?

abbey: Darling? *grabs towel out of his hand* What are you doing in here?

Colt: I wanted to talk to you, but you decided to try to avoid me. Which, by and by, I’d like to know why.

abbey: I wasn’t avoiding you. I just wanted to finish up. Running always helps with the nerves…

Colt: Something bothering you? You wanna talk about it?

abbey *looking away from him*: No.

*Colt frowned, but let it go.*

Colt *trying to lighten the mood*: When did you become so freakishly fast?

abbey: Always loved the stairs. I’ve been running like that for years. *smiling* You might not believe me, but I didn’t used to be this thin.

Colt *as he pulled her into his arms*: You were a chubby kid?

abbey: Yes, I was.

*He kissed her, but after a bit, she pulled away.*

abbey: I can’t do this right now.

*He frowned again.*

Colt: You sure you don’t want to talk about it?

abbey *quickly*: No.

Colt: It’s the job isn’t it?

abbey: I’m trying not to think about that.

Colt *leans to kiss her on the forehead*: That’s one of the reasons why I’m here.

abbey: I’m not staying on the ship, so you don’t need to waste your breath.

Colt: Not looking to waste my breath. Just want to keep you safe.

abbey: Like I told you before. Oram goes… I go…

Colt *sighs in frustration*: And as you so often remind me, it’s your “job” to protect her.

abbey: It is.

Colt *looking at her directly*: After we get back, you’ll explain that whole thing to me, dong ma?

*abbey was about to tell him that she wasn’t, when they were thankfully interrupted.*

Wash: Captain, we have landed.

*Colt took in a deep breath.*

Colt: I’ll be expecting everyone up in the galley in a half hour. Need to go over a few things before we get started.

abbey: I’ll be there.

*He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss and then left to go get ready.*

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(standing on the catwalk staring at the Temilcraft PWT (Personal Water Transport)

A boat..... wonderful

(later in the galley Spots is cleaning his pistol)

Sky: I have your night table reading

{a very large book lands on the table with a thud that sends Spots' cleaning kit flying}

Spots: Ohh Goody **in an increasingly sarcastic manor**

Sky:[siting down across the table from Spots]
look I don't like this as much as you do but its the job and the job needs to be done... also doesn't me we cant have fun with it.


Spots: yeah well i cant swim.

Sky: then you best not be sinking they boat should you

Spots: your sarcasm truly knows no ends does it

Sky:Yup **leaning back in her chair and smirking***..... **leaning forward again** well when you've seen and done as much as i have you find away to let it go our it consumes you

Spots: yeah i guess... I just want to get this over with

Sky: i know what your saying.... hey what do you have there

Spots: its a Hanson c96 it uses a .45 cal magnum round 10 mag... if 10 rounds of this anit enough to kill what your shooting at you best be running.

Sky:true.. we just be sure to shot the right way..
ill see you around. (Sky stands up and leaves)

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Colt*Over the Comm*: Attention crew... Meeting in the galley in five. Mandatory. Unless it's going to blow up my ship, drop whatever you are doing and hoof it.

*Colt leans patiently on his chair, at the head of the table. After a few minutes the entire crew has assembled around him*

Colt: Nice to see everyone. Alright, bad news is Badger's intel was shēng sè.

*Everyone exchanges a quick glance as Colt pauses briefly*

Colt: Now the good news. We've been able to secure the blueprints for the site. *He passes out copies to the crew http://newhall.flectopia.ca/* The facility is in the middle of the ocean, floating. It has three floors; engineering and utilities, living quarters and vault and the third floor is for business.

*Colt takes a moment to make sure everyone has given the schematics a decent look over.*

Colt: Spots will be driving the boat. Myself, Sky, Brit, Wash and Mobbex are on board. We'll travel right underneath the facility to the access hatch.. here. *He indicates a maintenance shaft on one of the stabilizers* Spots you'll get us through there, bring some tools. But I want you to stay with the boat. The rest of us enter and make our way up to the first floor. Here. Then we use the freight elevator to get up to the second floor. The vault will be located there, and that's where we'll find what we're looking for.

Mobbex: I dunno.. they're gunna have guards on that elevator, at least.

Colt: Exactly. That's why you're goin' in first. Wash, you're with him. Neutralize anything moving that looks like it might have an issue with us being there. Sky and I will take care of the safe and the papers, and anything else we can carry off.

*Mobbex grins wickedly*

Mobbex: You always know what I like, cap'n. At's why I joined this crew.

Sky: What about the rest? We won't be able to get inside without some sort of distraction.

Colt: I'm just getting to that. Oram, Stan and abbey will be serving as a diversion..

Sky: What're they going to do, fly by and moon them?

Oram: Heh! Haha... moon 'em.

Colt: They'll be posing as buyers. Stan, as a native, knows the local customs and dialects. He'll be alot of help in that department. He'll fly Oram and abbey to the landing platform and they'll enter right on through the front door. Stan? Take shuttle two, she's still prepped and I noticed you already lightened her quite a bit.

Colt: Mobbex and Wash. After you two finish quietly subduing anyone near the vault or the escape route, go here..*He shows them a room on the blueprints* Crew quarters. Steal a couple uniforms from the lockers and head upstairs and out the front. Should probably go one at a time and try to act like you're supposed to be there, we don't want to blow our cover. Whoever gets there first needs to discreetly subdue anyone guarding the platform and the shuttle. Just in case the distraction goes bad and a quick exit is in order.

Mobbex: How'm I 'sposed to quietly subdue someone that shootin' at me?

Colt: By shooting them quietly, 'fore they shoot you loudly.

Mobbex: Huh?

Colt: Once we get the goods, I'll give you all the signal. Sky, Brit and I will head back down the way we came and leave with Spots. The rest of you will take the shuttle.

Oram: What do we do if the plan goes all to hell on us?

Colt: We might have an advantage there. Brit. She says it's too hot, we drop what we're doing and get out as quickly and quietly as we can. Just pull out and go. You all understand? *He waits until everyone has let that sink in, everyone does except abbey, who has been quiet for the entire briefing and looks distracted.* abbey? You got it? *She doesn't answer* ABBEY!?

abbey *Flinching at his voice*: Ye.. Yes! I get it. Brit says to leave, we leave.

Colt: May...maybe you shouldn't be going. We can't afford to take anyone who's head isn't in this. I'm not looking to have any of mine end up on the sellin' block.

Abbey *narrowing her eyes at him*: Not a chance. You know the deal.

Colt *Sighing in obvious frustration*

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*Stan leaves the galley and heads down to his room to prepare for the mission. He passes Brit on his way out, she's silently leaning against the frame of the door, munching on a fruity oaty bar. She seems not at all anxious or concerned. He silently wishes he could be that calm. Armed guards, slaves, inaccurate information.*

Brit: "Strange Bird..."

Stan: "Hi... "

Brit: "Bat sh*t nuts?"

Stan: "Still?"

*She pulls a bar out of her pocket and offers it to him*

Brit: "Fruity oaty bar?"

Stan: "Uh.. no thanks, but thanks.*

*Stan blinks and continues past. Thinking to himself that a normal conversation with that one would be more unusual than the usual.*

*He continues on to his room, stripping out of his old coveralls and putting on his flak vest before donning one of his newer pair of coveralls. Considering it wise to not wear his older pair, as the Nelumbo patch may draw unneeded attention. As he's zipping up the dark khaki and brown coveralls there's a knock at his door.*

Stan: "Come in."

*The door opens and the captain leans in. He glances at Stan and notices the armor vest. He grins.*

Colt: "Wearing some protection? Remember to make sure they shoot you in the back or chest... those type don't protect much else."

Stan: "Heh.. yeah thanks. I'll remember that."

*Colt steps in and holds out a holstered small caliber pistol."

Colt: "Here, haven't noticed you wearing any weapons."

Stan: *Not taking the gun* "Really, I don't think I'll need it. But thanks."

Colt: *Insistent* "Take it. I don't want any of my crew in there unarmed."

*Stan nods and takes the holster from Colt.*

Stan: "Thanks. I still hope I don't have to use it."

Colt: "No one ever does... Heh.. 'cept maybe Mobbex."

*With that he leaves Stan to finish gearing up.*

*After pulling a belt from his duffel he straps the gun loosely on his hip then picks up the small black case on his bed. Not exactly sure why, he decides against strapping it to his leg, and stuffs it quickly into his left pocket. Resigned to the fact he really doesn't have much else to do, he heads off to the cargo hold to see if Spots could use any help with the boat.*


<--------------------<<<<-~~~~(*)~~~~->>>>-------------------->
"True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read" Gaius Plinius Secundus

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*abbey reaches down and picks an empty wrapper up off the floor. She deposits it in the trash receptacle with the others she had gotten earlier.*

*She stands in front of the mirror, looking at herself. She can’t believe this is happening. Of all the stupid things she has done in her life, this is at the top of the list. Her stomach churns and her face is as white as a sheet. She quickly walks over to the sink and pops in the last of the nausea pills Oram had given her.*

abbey: I so don’t need this right now.

*They are leaving in a few moments. She can’t believe that any of them are putting themselves in this position. She can’t believe she is putting herself in this position either. She is either stupid, crazy or foolish. Maybe a bit of all three.*

*She is beyond nervous. She leans over to the sink and splashes some cold water in her face. She feels miserable. Maybe she should stay behind? Maybe she should take it easy? There is enough confusion and drama in her life without adding slavers to the mix.*

*But Oram is going. And Colt too. She knows she could help. She has to help or she’ll never forgive herself, even under these circumstances. She dries off her face and touches up her make-up.*

Colt *comes into the shuttle*: We’re getting ready. Everyone is just about ready to depart. Oram and Stan are probably waiting in the port shuttle for you. *He looks at her closely* You nervous?

abbey: Aren’t you?

Colt: A bit. *pauses* You could still stay. I really want you to stay here. You don’t need to be there.

abbey: You know I can’t and I won’t stay here. I need to look after Oram.

Colt: She’s a grown woman, abbey. She don’t need looking after like a bitty child.

abbey: You don’t understand.

Colt: Like I said before, we’ll be discussing this in detail after we get back.

*Silence filled the room.*

abbey *changing the subject*: Anyway, I am going. We wouldn’t have enough time to rethink our part of the plan.

Colt: I suppose not. *trying to lighten the mood, he flashes her a smile* I guess it’s show time. Just remember, if you get the call to leave, you pick up and go, no matter what is going on. Dong ma?

abbey *nodding*: I got it. If things go south, get out as fast as possible.

*Colt pulls her into an embrace then kisses her softly on the lips. He looks into her eyes.*

Colt: Zhu yi, abbey.

abbey: You too.

*He kisses her quickly on the forehead and heads off to the cargo bay. She goes back to the mirror, affixes a black wig onto her head and looks herself over. The last time she wore this, she’d nearly got herself killed. She hopes that it won’t be a repeat performance. She takes in a breath, smoothes out her outfit and heads over to the port shuttle.*

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*Oram zips up her most respectable jacket, she notices that it’s more loose fitting and is surprised to find she’s lost weight without trying or noticing. Shrugging it off, she exits her room, her beloved revolver and Winchester, going for the job as well. As she heads for the shuttle she see’s Brit munching on some Fruity Oatey Bars.*

Oram: Where did you find those?

Brit: Found them in Abbey’s hands.

Oram: You stole them?

Brit: Borrowed them without a time of when they’re going to be returned.

Oram: You stole them in other words.

*Brit offers Oram a bar, which seems to be the last in the pack. Oram eagerly take it.*

Oram: Well, little miss, we should make our way to a job that’s sure to have me pulling out bullets and fixing boo-boos.

*Without another word they depart ways. Oram enters the shuttle, getting herself comfy in the seat, she takes out the bar and begins to eat. Not even half-way through it Abbey, with a black wig, and Oram just looks at her, trying to figure out what to say, she swallows then…*

Oram: Didn't you nearly get yourself, and the person with you, killed when you wore that last time?

Abbey: Not intentionally.

Oram: *Taking another bite from the bar* Could you try not to do that this time? I like living.

*Abbey rolls her eyes, and sits in the other spare seat of the shuttle. Then she notices what Oram is eating.*

Abbey: Hey, where did you get those?

Oram: Brit

Abbey: Got any more?

Oram: No….

Abbey: Come on Oram, I just want a bit!

Oram: *keeping the bar out of reach* NO!! MINE!!!

Abbey: *giving up* Child.

Oram: *pokes her tongue out and smiles* Whatever…

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*Spots and Wash are already in the boat when Colt notices abbey walk across the catwalk to the port shuttle. She is wearing a long, slightly curly black wig. He cocks an eyebrow at the sight.*

What the…

Sky *coming up behind Colt and looking at abbey as well*: What’s with the wig?

I don’t know. A disguise maybe?

*Sky shrugs as she gets into the boat.*

*It is a good disguise too. If they were dirtside, he probably would not have recognized her if she bumped into him on the street, so this was obviously not a disguise she just threw together. She has used it before. It makes him wonder about how this may have fit in with her past and why she keeps the details of her life so close to her vest. He mentally makes a note to add this to the discussion they are gonna have regarding Oram after the job.*

*as Mobbex approaches* Grab yourself a spot, we’re gonna leave soon.

Mobbex *cocks a gun, looking at it lovingly*: Well, I’m ready.

*As Mobbex joins Sky, Brit walks up.*

You ready?

Brit *as she passes him on the way to the boat*: You need more fruity-oatey bars.

Huh?

Spots *as he stands to look back at Colt*: You ready Captain? We’re all packed up.

*Colt looks over at the boat. Everyone is assembled and waiting for him. He jogs back to the boat and hops in.*

Let’s take her for a spin. Get used to how she handles.

*They spend the next few minutes or so doing just that. Finally, Colt points off towards the estate.*

The sun is setting. Let’s get going.

Spots: Yes, sir.

*into the comm* Stan, we’re on our way. Give us a chance to get settled underneath before landing.

Stan: Will do, Captain.

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*About fifteen minutes later...*

*Stan sits casually in the pilots seat of the port shuttle. Flicking various switches and checking the general navigation systems. abbey and Oram are seated in seats behind him.*

Stan: "Alrighty then, everybody buckled in? Anyone forgetting anything? I dunno if they have a restroom so you migh..."

abbey: *Cutting him off* "Just fly, stop stalling."

*She rolls her eyes, which he cannot see as she's behind him.*

Stan: "Ok, here we go."

*Stan engages the undocking maneuvers and eases the shuttle gently off the supports. He immediately begins to gain altitude and take the shuttle off to the northeast before slowly easing more to the east and towards the destination. He engages the passive autopilot and turns back to say something to the others. As he does he notices Oram seems uncomfortable, her eyes shut tightly and her knuckles white from gripping the arms of her seat. Abbey quickly notices his concerned look and turns to look at her friend.*

abbey: "Oram? Are you alright?"

Oram: *Opening her eyes, but looking anywhere but out the veiwshield* "Yeah... well err no."

Stan: "Are you.. afraid of flying?"

Oram: "No! I am not... 'kay yeah I am. I don't like flyin' what's the big deal?

abbey: "Oh my."

Stan: "But... don't we like, fly all the time? We live on a space ship!"

Oram: "Yeah, and you notice how I've never been up to the cockpit?"

*abbey firmly and reassuringly places her hand on Oram's arm.*

abbey: "Would it be better if we rode in back? There are seats and straps back there?"

Oram: "No, I'll be fine... I think it'd be worse if I got up and tried to walk around."

abbey: "Alright."

Stan: "I'll try to fly... gently. No fancy stuff today."

*The flight is a fairly short one. Stan keeps the shuttle steady and high. The vast azure waters of Newhall stretch to all horizons. After only a few moments a dark structure appears ahead, and slightly to the southeast. Stan glances nervously back at abbey. She only nods slightly. As they approach a chime from the communications sounds.*

Estate Security: "Unmarked shuttle, please state your business within our fly zone or turn around directly and leave."

*It wasn't a question. Stan, having been told what to say replies.*

Stan: "This is Book Shuttle No2, we request permission to land."

Estate Security: "You'd better have a damned good reason. We don't give tours."

Stan: "We're... interested buyers. No need for alarm. Only come to talk business."

*The man is quiet for several moments. The structure grows steadily larger as they approach. Stan notices something unexpected but remains silent until he's sure.*

Estate Security: "Ok. You've been cleared to land. Be prepared for a security team to search you and your shuttle."

*Stan gives a short affirmative and flicks off the comm. As he takes the shuttle in to land he turns back to abbey and Oram.*

Stan: "Uh... don't know if this'll be a big issue but there's more than three levels to this place. Looks more like four."

abbey: "Damn it. I guess those schematics weren't so accurate after all. Let's hope that was the only flaw in the intel."

Oram: "Heh. Yeah."

*When the shuttle has landed they unbuckle and head to the door. Stan is nervously flexing his hands.*

Oram: "You alright?"

Stan: "Yeah, not so good at this crime stuff.. but yeah I'm fine, I'm fine."

*He shakes his head slightly and takes a deep breath before opening the door. The late evening sunlight floods the shuttle.*

abbey: *Putting her hand to her ear to check the comm.* "Okay Colt, we're down. And Colt? There are four floors not three.."

Colt: *Over the comms* "Thanks abbey, Spots and Sky noticed that too. Ok folks.. remember the comms are for emergency only. No undo chatter."

*They're in position below the structure.*

Mobbex: "Like we're gunna be treat'nit like a partyline..."

Colt: "It's fun time people. Let's make no mistakes. Clean... quick and quiet like."


http://i270.photobucket.com/albums/jj94/Stran

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*The three of them wait at the door for the guards to do their paranoid search of the shuttle. Abbey looks over at Oram just to make sure she's recovered from the flight.*

Abbey: You sure you're ok? Cause you look all pale and like you're gonna lose that Oatey bar…

Oram: *way to quickly* Shut up.

Stan: Ladies… please… we're...

*The shuttle door suddenly opens and a pair of guards greet them at the entrance. One guard was Stan's height, but his dull demure told them he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box; his piggish brown eyes didn’t do his intelligence justice either. His companion was stockier, with grey eyes and fair complexion, but seemed to also be lacking in the upstairs department. Not wanting to make a scene before the rest of the crew get the job done, they follow the guards to the security checkpoint of the building*

Guard 1: Right folks, you don't look stupid. Guns, knives any weapons… drop 'em right 'ere in this bin.

Oram: But I like my gun … and feel kind of naked without it. For obvious reasons, I keep my guns for protection. Don't know what type of deceivers are around.

*Stan and Abbey both withhold the urge to roll their eyes at the double meaning and slap Oram for being bold.*

Guard 2: Come'n girl, we give da guns ta ya when ya leave? A'ight?

Abbey: Look, we'll give the weapons over… don't need to get to arguing.

*With that, Stan, Abbey and Oram, reluctantly, hand over their various weapons and ammunition. The third guard, a rotund man with a dark complexion, pats Stan down. Studies the small black case, turning it over in his hands. He fiddles with the latch but can't open it.*

Guard 3: What the hell is this?

Stan: *Thinking quickly* My … spare glasses…

*The guard glares at the case briefly then snorts. He roughly passes it back to Stan, who shoves it back into his pocket.*

Guard 1: Right, you folks are clean and ready for the discussions to take place.

*Stan, Abbey and Oram look at one another, take a deep breath, at the same time, and ready themselves for what lies ahead.*

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*Once they knew that the shuttle had landed, Spots stood up and started work on the access door to the maintenance shaft. It was higher up than he thought, so he had to stand on one of the seats and really stretch to reach.*

Mobbex: Ain’t it unsafe to stand up in a boat?

*Colt, Sky, Brit, Wash and Spots glare at him.*

Mobbex *shrugging*: I jus’ heard that someplace.

Spots *straining to reach*: Bi zui, you bèn niú (stupid ox). I am all aware of that fact, so if I can have some quiet, I’d be more than grateful.

*Mobbex scowled and muttered something under his breath.*

*Spots continued his work. Every once in a while, he would lose his balance a bit and the boat would rock violently to one side. The rest of the crew compensated, somehow managing to keep the boat from flipping over. After a few moments, the access door popped open a bit.*

Spots: There are wires, probably a security system.

Colt: Jen dao mei (just our luck – sarcastic). Can you get past it?

Spots *slighty annoyed*: Have faith Captain. It’s rudimentary. *Groans a bit as he extends his arms all the way* There. I got it.

*The door swings open and Spots comes down from his perch.*

Abbey *quietly over comm*: We’re in. Unarmed though.

Colt *under his breath*: Tā mā de. This is giving me an uncomfortableness.

*Mobbex reached up and easily pulled himself up through the hole.*

Mobbex *as he pulled Wash up behind him*: It’s a little tight, but we’ll go ahead of you and take care of business. Comm you when the coast is clear.

Wash *peering down at the rest of them from above, a grin on her face*: Don’t mind him none. It’s plenty roomy, he’s just a big guy.

Mobbex *muffled from inside the tube*: That’s what all the ladies say!

*The rest of them rolled their eyes at the comment. Colt waited a few moments before pulling himself into the maintenance shaft.*

Colt *looking down at Spots*: You keep an eye out. You comm me if anything comes your way. You have to stay hid. Without you, getting off this floating piece of luh suh will be more interesting than I’d like.

*Spots nodded and Colt gave Sky a hand up and she did the same for Brit.*

Sky: Brit, you stay behind me. Let us get through first, just be sure you’re uh… receiving… or whatever it is you do.

*They crawled along the maintenance shaft making sure they didn’t disturb anything that might set off an alarm of any sort. Brit’s voice broke the silence.*

Brit: It smells.

Colt *stopping to take a deep breath*: No, it’s just the sea air.

Brit: Lies, half-truths and omissions. All around and inside, seeping into the body, mind and soul.

*Colt and Sky look back at her with puzzled looks on their faces.*

Colt: What is that supposed to mean?

Brit *giving them the ‘are-you-dense’ look*: It smells.

Sky *muttering under her breath*: Oh. This is going to go well.

As they resumed crawling, Mobbex’s voice came through the comm.

Mobbex: First level is clear. Going up to the second.

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Not. A. Word.

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NEWHALL ESTATE, HABITATION FLOOR: WASHROOM

Attila: *shouts over his shoulder at the man standing under the shower stream* Damn it, Czigo! Step on it! We've got guests! Boss wants everybody on deck full tilt.

Czigo: *groans in annoyance* 'The hell? We ain't got no shoppers scheduled for today, what're you playin' at?

Attila: 'Came in off-the-cuff, a pair o' lasses and a local, didn't even wave a heads-up. Boss prolly thinks there's some crookery at work.

Czigo: *lets out a burst of half-suppressed laughter* ...Ain't that a shock. *reaches for the soap bar and starts rubbing it against his shaggy armpits* In any case, I figure you guys ought to be able to bump 'em off if ugliness were to come about, seein' as there's only three o' them...

Attila: That ain't the issue, mate. If you haven't turned up five minutes from now we're both gonna get our ass fried, and I like my cheeks pinky-white and unscathed, thank you very much.

Czigo carries on with his ablutions, seemingly impervious to the edge of urgency in his comrade's tone.

Attila: ...Did you hear a word o' what I just said?

Czigo curses lavishly as the slab of buff-coloured soap suddenly slips from his hand.

Czigo: Gorram it... you know what? Why don't you just go ahead? I'll, huh, catch up.

Attila: *rolls his eyes upward and and lets his breath out in a huff* Fine, whatever, I tried. *swivels on his heels and disappears down the passageway*

'Bout time he pissed off, already, Czigo thinks. Man's annoyingly long-winded.

He wraps up his business, then closes the water tap and grabs a towel to wipe the water off of his skin. Once he's well and truly dried up, he throws on his blood splattered coveralls, loops his leather belt around his plump waist, and exits the washroom with a leisurely gait.

I ought to swing by the armory 'fore anything else, otherwise the boss'll really have my balls...

He is still considering the particulars of his current quandary when he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Czigo: 'That you Att... *notices a human figure lying hunched up against the wall, unmoving, barely a handful of steps away * ...ila... ? Holy... 'you all right bro? What, d'you trip or somethin'?

He crouches down and prods his downed partner's neck, looking for a pulse, then feels a shrill, hair-raising shiver run down his spine as his fingertips meet moist.

Czigo: *jumps back in fright* Wuh de ma...

He reaches for his sidearm, but fails to get a solid hold of the helve as a ludicrously large, hair-laden hand darts from behind him, clasping his jaw and yanking him back. Then, before he can muster up the wits to resist, an arm of matching proportions coils around his neck, constricting his airways. Czigo gasps for air, wrestling with all his might in a frenzied effort to break free from the terrible embrace, but his desperate endeavors stand powerless against the sheer power of his aggressor. The struggles soon recede, and Czigo's body goes limp. He can feel blood seeping into his mouth as his throat caves in, the scope of his vision growing narrower with every passing second, and then... nothing.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Wash: Hum... *pokes the guard's side with the tilt of her blade* ...he's dead. You killed him.

The mercenary shrugs his shoulders and slings the guard's flaccid corpse against the bulkhead.

Mobbex: *wipes his blood-soiled hands against his trousers* Y' did quite a nasty number on the other one y'rself. 'Did it without a speck o' noise, too, 'am impressed.

Wash: *her brow furrows in a quizzical frown* Really?

Mobbex: *shows off his customary toothless grin* Actually, "impressed" might'a been a bit strong of a word. In all fairness to ya, I's more surprised than anything else.

Wash: *smiles lopsidedly* Uh-huh... well, that chokehold trick you just pulled had some flair to it too.

Mobbex: *his grin broadens* Ya bet it did! *tautens his ri

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*abbey watched as they put her guns in the box. Now she felt even more unsettled. She felt naked without her guns… and vulnerable. If they got in trouble now, they would probably end up dead or as slaves. Slaves… The mere thought made her shiver.*

Guard: You OK, luv?

*The term of mock endearment made her stomach flip.*

abbey *looking down to smooth out her clothes*: I’m fine. Just a chill.

*When she looked up, she saw the estate personnel looking at her a little suspiciously. Oram and Stan were giving her the ‘what-the-Hell-are-you-doing’ look. It was a stupid answer. Newhall had a tropical climate. Getting a chill was near about impossible. She backpedaled a bit.*

abbey: I hope I’m not catching anything. Some of the places we have had to visit lately have been less than… sanitary.

*She traced her fingers across a nearby ledge and looked at them like she was inspecting it for dirt. The guards bought that response and motioned for them to sit down.*

Guard: Mr. Siringo will be with you shortly.

Oram *sweetly*: Thank you.

*Once the guard had left them she turned and whispered into abbey’s ear.*

Oram: Are you OK?

abbey *nodding slightly*: I just want to get this done.

*They waited for what seemed like hours before Tony Siringo came out of the elevator. A guard stopped him and whispered something into his ear. Tony’s gaze looked over at Stan, Oram and abbey as he seemed to size them up. Tony made his way over to the table. abbey shifted uncomfortably in her chair.*

Tony *as he shook all of their hands*: I am Tony Siringo. I heard you were here for some business?

*abbey fought back the need to sterilize her hand after she touched Tony, but kept it well hidden. Thankfully, Oram took the lead.*

Oram: I’m Caroline Smith. This is my sister, Lauren.

Tony *pointing at Stan*: And he is?

abbey: Oh! He is the pilot and guide we contracted with here on Newhall.

Tony *motioning across the hall where the bar was located*: You may wait over there until we are finished getting acquainted.

*Stan flashed a quick look of concern at abbey and Oram, before nodding his head and going to where Tony had indicated. Once there, he whispered a message over the comm.*

Stan: They separated us, but I can still see them. Meeting has begun.

Colt *over comm*: Don’t let your eyes off them, dong ma?

Stan: Dāng rán

*Tony looked at Oram and abbey.*

Tony: Would you like any refreshments?

abbey: Just some water.

Oram: I’d like a bourbon, if you have it.

*Tony snapped his fingers and the refreshments were brought over quickly.*

Tony: Now what can I do for you ladies today?

abbey: We are looking to purchase some property from you.

Tony *an evil smile curling onto his lips*: Ah… Property…

Oram: We were told you were familiar with such acquisitions. Our family owns a sugar plantation on Angel. Sometimes it can be difficult having enough of to cover all the tasks needed for a plantation of our size.

abbey: So if we could acquire the specialized items you carry, it would be… nice.

*abbey could feel the bile rising up in her throat, she reached out for her drink, found Oram’s instead and downed it in just a few gulps. Oram looked at her with surprise. abbey’s eyes widened as she put the glass down quickly.*

abbey *whispering*: I shouldn’t have drunk that.

Tony: Are you OK, Miss Smith? Lauren? Can I call you Lauren?

abbey: I’m sorry. My throat was dry and I just grabbed the first thing I could. *abbey tilted the glass towards her and looked into it as the burn of the bourbon slowly went down her throat* That was a mighty fine drink. Good quality. Your business seems to be thriving.

Tony *smiling*: That it is. Would you like another?

abbey *now clutching her water*: No, I’m good.

Oram: Well, I’d like another one, seeing how I don’t have one now.

*Another snap of his fingers brought a second glass to Oram.*

Tony *getting back to business*: So in what quantity would you need?

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As Colt, Brit and Sky stepped out of the elevator, they heard Stan over the comm.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
Stan: They separated us, but I can still see them. Meeting has begun.

---

Colt *over comm*: Don’t let your eyes off them, dong ma?

Colt muttered a long string of curse words.

Sky: Separated them? Do you think they’re on to them?

Colt: I don’t know.

They enter a room and know right away that they are in the right spot.

Colt *as he kneeled down next to the safe*: Look at this. This ain’t gonna be a walk in the park.

Sky *as she knelt down next to him*: These have just come out. Haven’t even seen one yet.

Colt: I don’t know if we can do this.

Brit *repeating softly*: Tiny cracks… Tiny cracks… Tiny cracks…

Sky: Well, let’s not give up yet. Let’s take a moment to check it out.

Colt and Sky studied the safe, noting the different things it entailed.

Colt: Might not be so bad after all. I have done this kind of thing *points to a component*

Sky: I’ve done that one. *points to another one*

Brit *repeating softly*: Tiny cracks… Tiny cracks… Tiny cracks…

Colt and Sky *in unison, pointing to last part*: What in the Hell is that?

Colt: Well, we’ll figure that out when we get there. You get started on that piece, I’ll follow up after with the other one. Then we’ll figure out the last part.

Sky nodded as she pulls some equipment out of her bag and gets started. Colt looks up at Brit who is mumbling as she looks up at the ceiling and swaying just a bit.

Colt: You OK, little one?

Brit: Tiny cracks, holes in armor… Shattering… Glasses…

Colt: You seeing something?

Brit *focusing directly on Colt’s face *: Ssshhhh! I need to listen!

Colt shrugged and turned back to Sky, who was just finishing the first part.

Sky: I got this part, you’re next.

Colt situated himself in front of the safe and looked up at Sky.

Colt *whispering*: Keep an eye on her. She looks a bit… out there…

Sky: You think?

Brit: Sssshhhhh!

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** thinks to her self ..... mobbex is not so bad. dude needs a bath though**

I am a leaf on the wind

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Tony: So what kind of work is it you do?

Oram: It’s a sugar plantation. Harvest is especially difficult. It’s done mostly by hand.

Tony: How many units do you think you might need?

Oram *at the same time as abbey*: Thirty.

abbey *at the same time as Oram*: Twenty.

They gave each other a glare as Tony watched them again with suspicion.

abbey: I’m sorry, it can be quite hard to estimate sometime. We handle two different parts of the operation. Why don’t we go with 25?

Tony: What kind of equipment might you need?

Oram: The equipment should be sturdy. The caning process can be quite laborious.

Tony: Tell me about it.

*abbey was so glad that she and Oram looked up the process of sugar cane harvesting and refining on the cortex before they came. It was a godsend and gave them renewed credibility with Tony. The discussion was going well when abbey got the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. Hesitantly, she took a small sip of her water and looked around. Off to her left, a guard was staring intently at her. Another cold chill traveled down her spine, but she managed not to show it this time.*

*The elevator opened and she saw Mobbex and Wash come out. They were dressed in a uniform like the other guards, but theirs seemed a bit more… worse for wear. My God! Was that blood? It couldn’t be. No one else seemed to notice.*

*She made eye contact with Mobbex, but he didn’t indicate that he knew her in any way. Just as they were supposed to do, Wash and Mobbex both continued outside to the landing platform. She looked up to where the guard watching her was at, but he was gone. She felt relieved and returned to the conversation.*

Tony: You actually set fire to the fields before you harvest?

Oram: Yes. It removes all the dead plant and the snakes.

abbey: And leaves the stalks and roots unharmed.

Tony: OK. What’s next?

Oram: Then the cane is cut by hand using blades.

*Oram kept talking as abbey looked around the room again, finding that the guard has taken up another position in the room. He was still staring at her. Could he recognize her? No. That would be impossible. But her heart was beating faster and her throat felt constricted. She looked over at Stan who was watching them closely. She looked back over to the guard. He was still watching her closely and he had moved slightly like he was trying to get a better look. abbey tilted her head downwards just a bit, letting the hair of her long dark wig fall a bit over her face.*

Stan *over comm*: You OK, abbey? You look pale.

*abbey nodded slowly as Oram turned to her.*

Oram: Are you still feeling badly, Lauren?

abbey *smiling slightly as she fabricated an excuse*: I’m fine. I guess I shouldn’t have had that bourbon. Feeling a bit woozy.

Tony: I think I understand what you require for your business. You are definitely looking for a beefed up model.

abbey: Yes.

Tony: Need anything else? Equipment for your kitchen or laundering areas?

Oram: No we have that covered already.

Tony: Well you know our rates. We will need 75% now and the rest upon delivery.

*abbey hoped their conversation would be over soon. The ease at which Tony talked about slaves and “filling their order” was sickening. She took another drink of water to neutralize the taste of bile rising in her throat.*

abbey: We’ll transfer the credits to your account within the hour, along with our delivery location.

Tony *stretching a bit as he stood up*: There is some food and more beverages over in the bar. I insist you have some before you leave.

Oram *as she followed Tony towards the bar*: I would love another drink, but we can’t stay long. We have a schedule to keep.

*abbey took another sip of her water, finishing the bottle. She got up and started towards the bar. The guard who was looking at her, stood by the small hallway leading to the elevator. She would have to pass him to join the others. Her heart thumped so hard against her chest that she thought that ev

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Colt turns and gets going on the next part of the safe. He makes quick work of it and when he is finished, he flips the locks aside and it uncovers a keypad. It is numbered from 0-9 with two extra buttons saying right and left.

We’re humped. This is one of those new electronic combo locks. No moving parts so listening will not be an option. I have heard that neither electronic jammers nor impendency measures won’t even get you through. *he pauses and then rummages through his bag before grabbing something* Well let’s see what this will do.

Sky *looking at him less than impressed*: You make that yourself?

*glaring at her* You need to ask?

Sky *rolling her eyes*: Yep. We’re gonna end up as slaves…

Brit *forcefully and highly annoyed*: I said shut up!

Colt and Sky blanch a bit then get back to work.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
Stan *over comm*: You OK, abbey? You look pale.

---

Brit *returning to her soft voice*: Tiny cracks… Tiny cracks… Getting loud…

*over comm* Stan, is she OK?

Stan *over comm*: I think so. Meeting’s going well. She just seems nervous.

*over comm* OK.

Colt and Sky continue to work for the next few minutes.

Sky: We’re running out of time.

We don’t have the papers yet. Can’t leave without the papers.

Sky: Can’t stay either.

Brit: Cracks everywhere. Tiny getting bigger… Right 23, Left 51, Right 05… Glasses are needed…

Colt and Sky whip around to face Brit who is still looking at the ceiling, her swaying becoming more pronounced.

What did you say?

Brit: Cracks everywhere. Tiny getting bigger… Right 23, Left 51, Right 05… Glasses are needed…

Sky starting punching in the numbers and to both her and Colt’s surprise, the safe opened. Sky started pulling everything out of it and placing it in a pack she had ready and waiting.

Well, this hasn’t been bad. I like it when things go smooth.

Brit: Captain?

Colt looked over at her. She stood rigid. He got up and looked at her face. It showed fear and pain.

*concerned* What do you see?

Brit: We’re gonna have wounded.

With that she fainted into his arms.

EVERYONE! GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!

Sky started shoveling in the items from the safe faster. When she was done, her pack was heavy. One look at the Captain, she could tell that he was conflicted. He wanted to get upstairs to help out his crew… and her.

Sky *trying to reposition the heavy pack on her shoulder*: I can’t carry them both, Colt. We need to get back to Spots. The rest of them have the shuttle, they’ll meet us back at the Book.

Reluctantly, Colt scooped Brit up and followed Sky back towards Spot’s position.

*muttering under his breath* I hope so.

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*Oram chugged down another glass of bourbon before she turned around and saw the guard with abbey. He grabbed her arm and said something to her. She wrenched her arm away and tried to move past, but he grabbed her arm again, this time harder, and moves his other hand up towards her shoulder.*

*Oram reached for the bottle of bourbon she was drinking from. She needed a weapon. It would have to do. She looked at the bottle quickly and realized it was a really good brand, put it down and grabbed the bottle of rotgut next to it and went quickly towards the guard.*

Oram: I’d let my sister go, if I was you.

*The guard dropped his hand from abbey’s shoulder and smirked at Oram.

Guard 1: Why don’t you mind your own business? Me and her have some business of our own to discuss.

Oram glanced over at abbey, who had no colour left in her face. She was terrified.

Oram: I said: Let. Her. Go.

*Abbey tried to pull her arm free again, but this time he had a better grip. Out of no where, Oram swung a bottle of booze at the guy’s head, taking him by surprise. He stumbled backwards a couple of feet, but never let go of abbey’s arm. He quickly recovered and pulled his sidearm as the elevator opened and another guard came out. Abbey’s eyes widened. Not wanted to let Oram get hurt, she shifted her weight and pushed the guy backwards as hard as she could. The shot went high as they stumbled past the new guard, barely missing them.*

Guard 1 *to other guard*: Get that one! She swung a bottle at my head!

*The second guard pulled his gun and levelled it at Oram, who jumped around the corner into the bar area. Abbey tried to pull her arm away again and nearly did, but he squeezed harder to keep a grip on her. She pushed him hard again, propelling them further down the hallway toward the elevator. Keeping him off balance would give her the best possible chance of getting free. She jerked her arm hard and felt herself pull free from him. She turned to run back towards the others but his hand reached out again and latched onto her arm preventing her from achieving her goal. She gave one last desperate shove back, only to find that she hindered herself more by landing both of them inside the elevator.*

*In the meantime, Stan and Oram had leapt behind some cover in the bar as alarms started blaring throughout the complex.*

Stan: *into comm*Need a little help here!

Mobbex: *through comm*: We coming–

*They didn’t hear the rest of his message. They only heard static. The comms were being jammed.*

Oram: Jesus jumping Christ….

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*Stan and Oram are hiding behind the bar, at the moment there seems to be a couple of guards standing in the entry way of the bar, talking in rushed voices into their comms.*

Stan: ".... uh.. yeah you can say that again."

Oram: "Ok this could be goin' better."

Stan: "Yeah, does it ever go better for you guys?"

*Oram shoots him an annoyed look*

Oram: "We need to find something heavy, something to defend ourselves with."

Stan: "Would this work?"

*He's reached into his pocket and pulled out his spare glasses case.*

Oram: "I don't think yer spare specs are going to help us."

Stan: "No... these are my spare specs" *He taps his glasses* "I broke my last pair the day I met you all."

*He opens the case and pulls out an odd looking gadget.*

Stan: *Twisting the lower half and folding it out like a pistol grip* "This... isn't a pair of glasses."

*Pulling out a cylindrical piece he attaches it quickly to the rest, the resulting device resembles a gun only vaguely, looking more like a child's toy.*

Oram: "What the...."

*She looks at him skeptically.*

Stan: *Seeing her look* "It's an SPP... a Sonic Pulse Pistol. It works on a simple set of principals... ok I don't know how exactly but I've seen them used. Mostly government and law enforcement at the moment but they've been finding a niche on the streets."

Oram: "A laser of some sort?" *Stan shakes his head.* "It'll kill people though, right?"

Stan: "Hell I don't know, I think so..."

*At that moment the barrel of a rifle appears over the bar above them, followed by a leering face. Acting on instinct Stan turns the sonic pistol in the directing of the guards head and pulls the trigger. Nothing... The guard grins even wider and aims his gun.*

Oram: "SH!T!"

Stan: *Fumbling with a small set of dials on the side of the barrel* "D'un yi shia..."

*Frustrated he swings the little gun back at the guard and pulls the trigger again, just as the guard himself has pulled his own. The guard falls back, his shot missing Stan's head by inches as the rifle is dropped. His hands to either side of his head the guard grunts and stumbles, but only for a moment. He calls out to the other guard and pulls his sidearm. Approaching the bar again he fires a few times before leaning over.... nothing. A scream from behind him and to the left catches his attention but before he can look he feels the sharp thwack of a bottle slamming against the back of his head.*

Oram: "Bastard!"

*She whacks him again for good measure. Stan drags the second guard away from the entry and glances around the corner.*

Stan: *Glancing back at Oram* "I think he's out... we have two more coming up from the front!"

Oram: "But... abbey! We have to go get abbey!"

Stan: "How... where.. they took her... she went into that elevator. Did you see what floor?"

Oram: "I dunno... I..."

Stan: "Best thing we can do is get us'a hell outta here and figure out what to do next. If we go after her now...."

*At that moment a yell comes from the lounge across the hall, three armed guards come around the corner and aim their weapons at the pair. Stan flicks his SPP in their direction and twists a dial as he fires. He aims at head heighth and in a sweeping arc across the men. Each one of them falls back in pain, the last falling to his knees and holding his head.*

Oram: "How do I get one of those fine little toys?"

*They glance around the corner, two more guards are standing between them and the exit, armed to the teeth.*

Oram: "Well we can't just sit here and wait for more to come get us. We're like sitting ducks."

*Just then a shot rings out from the outside and the guard on the left falls forward, his face exploding outward in a shower of blood and vitreous fluids as the bullet exits at high velocity.*

Stan: "Uhh.. ok I think Mobbex and Wash did hear us."

*They charge the second guard as his attention is centered on his fallen comrade and the unseen assailants from outside. Oram dispatches him quickly with her now utterly shattered

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He grabbed her arm again and they fell into the elevator. To her horror, the doors closed as he shoved her. She landed hard against the control panel and the elevator began to move. The guard had his hands wrapped around her neck and was squeezing. Just then she heard Colt’s voice as clear as day…

Quote:

---

Originally posted by Colt99:
EVERYONE! GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!

---

She heard the yelling over the comm of her shipmates and the rat-tat-tat of bullets flying. And then there was static. The comms were dead. Probably being jammed. With that realization, she knew the situation had just gone from really bad to worse. She knew she had to worry about herself first before being able to rejoin or help the others. She had to do something soon, because if the people he mentioned were called, she would surely be dead, that is unless this guard got a little too excited and it happened right now instead.

She focused her eyes on the guard. His face was twisted with anger and she felt his fingers tighten a bit more. She pushed against him, hoping to shove him away, but he was bigger than her. Not quite Mobbex’s size, but still bigger than her. She kicked her legs but he had her firmly pinned between the fingers on her throat and the control console. She knew she had to do something, because she was starting to feel lightheaded and dark spots were starting to cloud her vision. Then she heard two voices intermixing in her head. She knew she wasn’t actually hearing them, but they sounded as if they were standing right there.

Colt: Get out NOW!

Grayson: You know how! Now fight!

As fueled by a sudden increase of adrenaline, she swiped her arm across his two, causing him to loosen his grip enough that she could turn enough to wriggle free. She turned and followed through with an elbow to the face, a kick to the groin and a chop to the throat. Stunned, he fell to the floor as she quickly leaned over and liberated him of his sidearm. With a couple of quick squeezes of the trigger, she sent a double shot into his chest and one of the bullets sliced through his heart.

She turned back to the controls and was pretty sure that she was going up, but the fight had disoriented her a bit. The comm crackled in her ear. Every once in a while, she could catch bits and pieces of what was being said but phrases were about all that she heard. abbey cursed.

abbey *hoping that someone might hear her through the static*: I think I’m upstairs. I’m headed for the roof.

The elevator opened on the abbey ran out, looking for a cover place to try to figure out an egress point that would get her to the roof. Down a main hallway, she saw a door with a symbol on it that indicated a second landing pad. She hadn’t seen another one on the plans, but there hadn’t been a fourth floor in them either, so she wasn’t surprised. She looked around briefly before she sprinted toward it. The hallway was lined with glass doors that allowed you to view the inside of the small rooms they lead too. She got past two doors before noticing what those rooms contained. Her eyes widened and her legs went to jelly and she fell, the gun sliding up the hallway in front of her and stopping against the outside door.

abbey *in shock*: Oh my God. No…

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Going into the boat first, Colt pulled an unconscious Brit down from the access door while Spots and Sky helped balance the boat from tipping over and sending them all into the water.

He heard Oram’s voice through the comm.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
Oram: I’d let my sister go, if I was you.

---

His blood ran cold.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
Guard 1: Why don’t you mind your own business? Me and her have some business of our own to discuss.

---

Sky: Business?

Colt waved her quiet as he listened closer.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
Oram: I said: Let. Her. Go.

---

He heard a shot ring out and his mouth went dry too. He remembered what Brit had said.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by colt99:
Brit: We’re gonna have wounded.

---

Colt *softly, under his breath*: Abbey…

He grabs another gun from inside the boat, stands and reaches up for the access door. The boat tilts dangerously. Sky reacts quickly to keep them balanced.

Sky: What are you doing?

Colt: Meet me back at the ship. I’m going back.

Sky: They have the shuttle–

Colt: I can’t just wait. They ain’t exactly trained soldiers up there.

Sky: Mobbex and Wash are up there.

Colt *as he starts to pull himself up*: I’m going–

Suddenly, Brit reached up and grabbed Colt’s ankle.

Brit *lethargically*: You gotta stay here. Crew will be needing us soon.

Colt: That’s why I am going up. I have to get to them.

Brit *sighing*: And you’ll be dead before you ever get there.

Colt let go of his grip on the access door and slumped into a seat. Suddenly the comm went to static.

Sky: They are jamming us.

Colt: Ni ta ma de. Tianxia suoyoude ren. Dou gaisi.

Brit *taking a deep breath*: We need to stay right here. Promise? *Colt nodded in defeat. Just as she closed her eyes she said* We have wounded.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by abbeygirl:
abbey: I think I’m *static* -ed *static*.

---

Colt swore some more.

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She looked on either side of her, so far she had counted four women, naked and chained to the wall. They all laid limp in their cells, obviously drugged. They weren’t looked on as being humans. They were viewed as being someone’s property to be sold. These women had drawn an even shorter stick, they were slaves for the sex trade. These women would be used and abused in all manner of unseemly ways for no reason but the amusement of some men in this ‘verse. She didn’t know what would be worse. A life like that or death. Death would probably be a better deal.

abbey *whispering over and over in horror*: Oh my God!… Oh my God!… Oh my God!…

She got up and tried the door of the nearest one, but it was locked. She ran across the hall, but it was locked as well.

abbey: No… No… No… No…

abbey traveled back towards the elevator, checking doors. All of them locked. Through the comm she heard a single yell before the static overtook the comm again.

Colt: ABBEY!!!

abbey *nearly panicking*: There are slaves up here… They’re drugged… Oh God, there’s slaves and I can’t get the doors open… I have to help them! *pulls doors as hard as she can* Open, gorram doors, open! Please open… Need to find the keys…

Colt: *static* get *static* out of *static*!

abbey *totally beyond reasoning with, voice barely above a whisper*: Gotta get them out. Can’t leave them… Not leaving them… Not again… I can’t… I can’t…

abbey heard a noise at the far end of the hall. She ran towards it. When she got there she stopped dead in her tracks, horrified at what she saw. There was a guard, pinning a girl no more than 18 to the wall and getting a little too familiar. abbey raised her hand ready to shoot him when she realized she didn’t have the gun anymore. It was then that she felt someone grab her by the waist, pinning her arms to her body as he clamped his hand over her mouth.

Nasty Guard #1: Well looky here… You are a fine specimen. It must be Christmas. Santa leave you here as a present for us? A new toy to play with… well after we are done with that one.

The way he talked about that girl, it was as property again. It was sickening. Abbey lifted her foot and stepped hard onto his instep, trying to get free, but he only chuckled.

Nasty Guard #1: Nice thing but good heavy boots. Silly defense moves like that just don’t seem to have the right effect. It’s part of my issued “work tools.”

The guard got still for a minute. Someone was talking to him over his comm.

Nasty Guard #1 *to person on comm*: Yes sir. I'll be sure to detain her.

Then the guard shoved abbey into an empty cell and locked the door.

Nasty Guard #1: I just heard they were looking for you downstairs. Something about someone wanting to talk to you? You can wait here. *he turned towards Nasty Guard #2, who was still involved with the girl across the hall* Boone? Playtime later. Boss will be up here soon.

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Minuets felt like days as Spots sat quietly about a mile off of the platform. as the waves brought the small boat swayed up and down as spots was glued to his comm

spots checks his watch 30 min.
Spots: come on you guys get out of there

more time passes



Colt: everyone out NOW!!!!..... Spots get your Ass here ASAP


Fumbeling around the boat till he reaches the helm
Spost firewalls the throttle the engine rawrs to life as the boat takes off


Spots: o god o god o god!!!!

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*** thinks to herself ****

What the


***turns to mobbex****

We have to get them out of there. How are we going to do it?


***hears spots Screaming************



I am a leaf on the wind

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Colt: Spots, see any traffic while you were waiting?

Spots: A couple of passer-bys. They didn’t see me and they didn’t stop at the estate either.

*Colt glanced over at Spots. Spots’ hand nervously skittered across the throttle.*

Colt *digesting the information and moving on*: Sky…

*Without needing to say another word, Sky started searching north along the horizon and the sky above, while Colt did the same towards the south.*

Colt: Do you see the shuttle?

Sky: No.

Colt: Spots, have you heard from the others? Anything at all?

Spots: My comm cut out about the same time as yours. *Looking down at Brit, he mentally replayed a comment she had said.* Did she say we had wounded?

Colt *calmly*: She did.

Sky *turning back around to Colt*: Can we be sure? She is a candidate for the bug house.

*Colt looked down at Brit, who lay unconscious on the floor of the boat, her hand still holding the edge of his pant leg. He returned to his task of scanning the area around them.*

Colt: Not looking to discuss this, Sky. Just keep your eyes open. *he looked back over at Spots, who looked like he desperately needed something to do* You too Spots.

*Colt adjusted his comm as he tried to contact his missing crew.*

Colt: Mobbex? Are you there…? Wash? Come in.

Sky *deciding to help him*: Stan? Do you copy…? Oram? Please respond if you can.

Colt: Abbey?

*All they got was static. Colt closed his eyes for just a second, his thoughts filling with dread. His crew was up there, most definitely in trouble and he couldn’t do anything about it.*

*So the three of them did the only thing they could. They waited and they watched.*

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*** hits comm***

Yeah sky? we are making our way back to the shuttle. I have a few grazes from them goram bullets . YOu guys wounded?

*** waits for areply. as we clear the last bend we see the shuttle and we see some men trying to board the shuttle. hits com again*****

Y'all might want to start shotting we got visitors!!!

I am a leaf on the wind

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*The comm crackled to life, however only a couple of words penetrated the jamming that was still present.*

Wash: ... sky? ... making ... way back ... shuttle.

Sky: It's Wash!

Wash (continuing): I ... grazes ... goram bullets. ... wounded?

Colt: You think the others are with them?

Sky: We can only hope.

Colt: Keep looking. As soon as the shuttle departs, we'll get going. We can regroup back at the ship. Can't help anyone with this jamming. We don't even know who is where.

*Colt feels a light tug on his pant leg again.*

Brit *half out of it*: Stay here. You promised.

*Colt swore under his breath as they returned to their previous task of watching and waiting.*

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Sky after taking a scan of horizon turns her

attention to the doc.s that they had just procured.

after reading for about a min. she got up and

walked over to Colt. after some mufled words between the two

Colt walks over to Spots

Colt: (easing onto the bench next to Spots) i remember you said something about a sister.

Spots: Yes Isabel

Colt: well you might want to look at this (placing the folder in Spots arms)


Colt: you'll want to brace your self {as Spots looks over the names in the file}

(at that moment Spots finds the name Isable Jane Westfall)

(Rage washes over the young mans face, his eyes burn with an intensity that the crew had never see before)

Spots: where [barely addable]

Colt; she'll probably be where at the meet

Spots; good (he said as the boat slipped into an uncomfortable silence)

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*The door opened and in stepped Tony Siringo. With her door open, she could hear the faint pop pop pop of continued gunplay downstairs. She was relieved, because then she knew that there was crew still around.*

Tony: I thought something was odd about you.

abbey: Nothing odd about me at all. I just have some business to conduct.

Tony: Slaving is the least of your concerns, right now, unless becoming one is an aspiration of yours.

*abbey cringed as she stepped backwards.*

Tony: Now my one guard, the one you so deftly disposed of, only told me a little of what I needed to know before our meeting started. *he motioned for two guards to enter the cell* My associates are looking for a girl with a tattoo on the left shoulder blade. A single Chinese symbol for home. Check for it.

*abbey looked up and saw Nasty Guard #1 and #2 come towards her, reaching out at her with their grimy, filthy paws. She swung and her fist connected with Nasty #1’s face, which only succeeded in her getting hit by Nasty #2. She fell to the floor, grabbing her chin. She could taste the blood in her mouth and knew that her lip had been split. Nasty #1 hauled her up to her feet and pinned her to the wall.*

Nasty #1: Don’t ever hit me again, btch. *He pressed his body up against her and whispered into her ear* Besides the boss man there, I am the other guy you should be playing nice with. *He twirled her hair and stroked his hand down her arm* And you want me to be nice to you, dong ma?

*A whimper escaped from her lips as she nodded.*

Nasty #1: Now say you’re sorry.

abbey: I… I’m sorry.

Nasty #1: Good.

Tony: That’s enough. Just check her for the tattoo.

*Happily, Nasty #1 grabbed the shoulder of her shirt and tore it. He whirled her around and shoved her against the wall. The tattoo was plainly evident.*

Tony: Good. I have a call to make. They will want to know one thing for sure and why don’t we just get it out of the way without any undue fuss. Where is Catherine?

abbey: Who is Catherine?

Tony: Feisty one, isn’t she boys? *Nasty #1 held on to her, laughing in agreement as his hands roamed a little too freely.* We know you knew her and you were close enough to have matching tattoos done. As you know, Catherine departed Beaumonde leaving a business colleague in a tough spot. This fella she wronged wants to pay her back for her kindness. It seems that he doesn’t think Catherine’s as dead and buried as she’s supposed to be. Maybe you can shed some light on the subject.

*abbey wanted to kick herself for ever going back to that parlor to finish her tattoo. It wasn’t smart and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass, just like Grayson predicted.*

abbey *unwavering*: I don’t know of anyone named Catherine and even less about your colleague.

Tony *turning to leave*: We’ll see. You keep that kind of attitude and the process of finding out what we want to know will just take longer. Now, my colleagues are going to be very happy to see you. It won’t be but a few hours time ‘fore they get here. *turning to Nasty #1and #2* Don’t you boys rough her up any more. That one bruise is enough.

Nasty #2: But boss…

Tony *holds up a hand*: I didn’t say you couldn’t have any fun, just watch about leaving marks.

Nasty #1 and #2’s laughter made abbey’s soul run cold. Tony left them alone.

Nasty #1: Well, we are going to go back over there and finish up with that young thing in the other cell. Gentlemen like ourselves shouldn’t leave a lady waiting anyway. *Nasty #2 snickered* You be sure to watch and see if there is anything that you can do to make any interactions with you most pleasurable. Do a good job and things will go better for you. *He leaned his face in close enough that she could feel his breath.* And you want me to be extra happy, because that guard you killed in the elevator? He was my brother.

*He released her and exited her cell before rejoining the other guard across the hall. abbey clutched

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Grayson was interrupted from his work by an incoming wave. It was text only and it was encrypted. He tapped in the code to view it. It merely said:

Something's in the works. Two top level transports have launched. No destination filed. Will contact again when more info is available.

Grayson *quietly*: What are they up to?

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** Hits comm ***

Colt go get abbey!!! We lost her in the fray ...

*** looks behind me to see some one trying to sneak up on me.... only to see the bobcat behind her... ***


Ok baby girl lets go save the ship...

**hits com again ***

hello anyone there?

I am a leaf on the wind

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Crew was on Newhall for a job from Badger to retrieve some files for some slaves. The deal went all pear shaped and the bad guys jammed the comms, making them useless.

Under the Floating Estate

Colt/Sky/Brit were able to heist the files and make it back where Spots was waiting for them in the boat.

Colt: Worried about the crew members not with him, especially about abbey.

Sky: Wondered why they hadn’t left the estate to head back to the Book. She thought that Brit’s ramblings were nonsense, but she did as the Captain asked.

Brit: Gave them valuable information during the heist, but it took a toll on her. Made Colt promise not to leave current position because crew needed him there.

Spots: Was enraged once Sky showed him a file for his sister from the ones they stole.

On the Landing Pad

Oram/Stan/Wash/Mobbex managed to get out of the building and were moving towards the shuttle.

Stan: He was gravely shot and helped to shuttle by Mobbex.

Wash: Was working on the start up sequence to get them up into the air.

Mobbex: Was laying down cover fire.

Oram: Was the last in line on the trek to the shuttle.

On the Fourth Floor

abbey: Got separated from group. Basically, she gets nabbed, Tony questioned her about someone named Catherine who had the same tattoo and called his associates to retrieve her. Guards were none too nice either.

At Grayson Cornwell’s Office

Grayson: Received encrypted message stating that something was up. He wondered exactly what is going on.

Let’s get posting!!!

P.S. Could you all PM me your e-mail addresses so we can communicate easier? Mobbex’s Chatzy Room is still available, PM me if you have lost the address. If you have any questions, please PM or EM me.

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The elevator doors slide apart and Mobbex and Wash come walking out with an air of decidedness in their gait. They walk boldly past the guards, barely even acknowledging their being there, and make their way across the hall without letting their eyes roam off course. Just as they step onto the rickety catwalk leading to the landing platform, Mobbex discerns a pair of human silhouettes standing against the withering daylight. He motions for Wash to take on the one stationed to their left, and walks up to the other one with a bit of extra pep in his step.

Mobbex: Heya, partner!

Sentry: *turns to him with a perplex frown on his face* Who the hell're you?

"Keep'im talkin'," Mobbex thinks as he still stands a couple of strides away from having his quarry within arms length.

Mobbex: Change o' shift, am here to relieve ya.

Sentry: *clutches his rifle and scrunches up his face in a expression of distrust* No sir, change o' shift ain't happenin' 'fore nighttime. An' who the are you? I ain't ever seen you 'round here before...

Mobbex: I'm the new hire, 'boss rang me in for the night.

Sentry: I didn't got no notice of us being hirin'... Hey! Back off!

A predacious grin pulls at Mobbex's lips.

'Gotcha!

The guard readies his rifle, but the big man is already on the move. His hand wanders across his sturdy leather belt and closes around the hilt of his dagger, which he promptly unsheathes and swings in wide arc at his foe's bare neck. The guard's eyes revulse in their orbits as the keen metal edge rips through his flesh. He lets go of the rifle and clasps his hands around his throat to quell the surging flow of blood that comes gushing out of the wound. He wants to call for help, but his rent vocal chords won't enable him to let out anything but direful retching and gurgling noises. Mobbex puts the knife away, then grabs the wounded man by the collar of his shirt and sends him flying over the railing and plummeting into the fading twilight.

Mobbex: Off y'go, "partner". Quick an' silent. *turns over to Wash, grinning like a Cheshire cat and looking mighty pleased with himself* There's some art in that, don't ya think?

Wash: *shakes her head in utter disgust* You're a psycho.

Mobbex: *sniggers* You ain't seen but the tip of it, sugar...

At this very moment, Colt's distressed voice comes bawling over the com. ...GET OUT! GET OUT NOW! The two of them swap glances, and suddenly they're all business again. Mobbex pulls out his trusty revolver and charges back into the compound, with Wash shadowing him. They get to the main hall and scan the premises for their cronies, spotting them right away, standing in open ground, helpless and exposed, with a duo of heavily armed security guards giving them the minatory eye. Mobbex picks out one of them, lines him up, and presses the trigger, propelling a thirty gram jacketed lead round toward the back of the guard's head with hypersonic impetus.

Quote:

---

Originally posted by Strangebird:
*Just then a shot rings out from the outside and the guard on the left falls forward, his face exploding outward in a shower of blood and vitreous fluids as the bullet exits at high velocity.*

---

Mobbex, speaking in a calm, poised voice that contrasts sharply with the glint of madness that sparkles through his gaping eyes: Get movin'.

They galloped across the hall and out the door to the landing pad where Mobbex takes a kneeling position by the shuttle and rains metal on top of their pursuers.

Mobbex: Chop chop people... *sees Stan take a pitch forward and crash into the ground* Mi Tian Gohn! *him and Oram dash to their fallen shipmate's inert form, unheedful of the guards' sustained fire*

Mobbex: You get him to the flier, I'll keep 'em mongrels in check!

Oram: I can't carry him, you go!

Unable to produce a proper counter-argument, Mobbex crouches alongside Stan and one-handedly lifts him off the ground and onto his back, all the while blasting round after round at the guards'

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(hearing Wash's voice crackling over the radio)

Sky: thank god, it feels like we've been out here for months

Colt: Ok people lets look sharp we have to goods lets get the hell out of here

Spots; we just cant leave we need to find Izzy

Colt: (grabbing Spots by his shirt and being quite stern) Boy, we all lost something and we'll lose every thing if we don't go... NOW.
so drive the damn boat!

Spots: Yes sir right away sir! (sarcastically, turning to the helm of the boat)

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Quote:

---

Originally posted by Spots74:
Colt: (grabbing Spots by his shirt and being quite stern) Boy, we all lost something and we'll lose every thing if we don't go... NOW.
so drive the damn boat!

Spots: Yes sir right away sir! (sarcastically, turning to the helm of the boat)

---

Brit grabs Colt's pant leg and tugs it vigorously.

Brit *forcefully*: You PROMISED! We have to wait. Crew needs us here!

Colt thought for a second.

Colt *resigned*: Hold up Spots. We'll stay here for a just a little more time.

Sky *swearing a bit*: The girl is nuts, Captain. We need to get out of here.

Colt just shot her a 'I'm-the-Captain' look.

Colt *firmly*: We're staying.

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The gunfire was deafening and a light haze from the concrete dust was starting to make breathing troublesome. If Oram had thought it was going to get any harder, she was right.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the large mercenary sort of stumble then visibly shake himself. Instinct took over and she head towards him just as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell heavily and unconscious, to the ground.

There was an over turned table where no one seemed to be focusing their fire, knowing she needed cover, Oram searched Mobbex’s form for a distraction. Her shaking hands came upon a few grenades and without a second thought, she pulled the pin and threw it just left of the firing guards. She ignored the explosion as she struggled to get the mercenary’s dead weight to safety.

A few stray bullets clipped the table, and Oram jerked in fright and covered what she could of Mobbex's head, while trying to see if he’d actually been hit seriously. Apart from the bloodstained overalls, there was no indication of a bullet wound anywhere on his person. More bullets whizzed overhead and Oram blindly shot towards where they were coming from, hearing a satisfying yell or two as she hit targets.

“Come one, wake up!” She lightly slapped Mobbex around the face, she didn’t have any salts to wake him with. She hissed in pain as her own handgun burnt the inside of her arm… then a thought occurred…

“Ok Mobbex, forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

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Mobbex is drifting in a haze, surrounded by vast expanses of obscurity. His inner being wanders loose, his body but a forlorn relic, an artifact of the physical realm.

Mobbex: What is this?

An unearthly voice answers him.

Voice: Not now. You need to wake up... You want to wake up!

Mobbex: Wha-

Voice: WAKE UP!

Suddenly, a flash of blinding light engulfs him. It brings warmth. Heat. A wealth of heat. Scorching heat! He's on fire! His body is on fire! His legs are on fire! His...

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Mobbex issues a shrill, high-pitched squeal as he rouses.

Mobbex, gesticulating frenziedly: Bleuargh! Kill it! Kill it, it burns!

The burning subsides, and Mobbex assumes more of a seated position. He has a look at the area from whence the pain had originated, namely the inner side of his left thigh, and finds a circular burn wound bearing a likeness to the mouth end of a 9 millimeter handgun. He looks up and spots a weapon of matching gauge held between the fingers of Oram's hand, the barrel's end still fuming.

Mobbex, his bloodshot eyes teeming with anger: You...

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**Oram knew as soon as she placed the barrel against Mobbex's leg that at one point he was going to try to kill her …. Most likely when she was asleep in her bunk to not arouse suspicions to the rest of the crew of what he'd done.

The man did nothing but twitch for a few seconds, before an inhuman and high pitched squeal. His bloodshot eyes opened and he began slapping at his leg while screaming to ‘kill it’. When he'd calmed somewhat, Mobbex pulled himself in a semi-seated position where he examined what’d caused the intense pain. Then it dawned on him and he turned a look of pure hatred towards the nervous woman.**

Mobbex: You…

Oram (speaking too quick, even for her sake): Look, I can explain… it’s only a flesh wound, it won’t scar and I had no other way of getting you back to conscious without getting us both captured, shot or killed in some way.

**She pulled a pen light out of her pocket as she's speaking, trying to get a reaction from Mobbex's pupils, but he slaps her hand away roughly, she drops it and the little bulb smashes.**

Mobbex: Don’t gorram touch me, you’ve done enough damage for one night.

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*** hit comm***

Hey has any one seen abbey ? Capt we are Headin your way

*** starts to fire up the book Then hears the gun shot and mobexx bitching. Hits comm***

oh Mobexx grow a pair atleast your alive

oram try not to kill him until tha capt comes back


I am a leaf on the wind

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Colt heard bits and pieces of something Wash transmitted.

Wash:
"Hey...one...abbey? Capt... your..."
"...Mobbex...pair at... alive..."
"Oram... kill him... capt... back..."

It sounded like at least Wash, Mobbex and Oram were still fighting. Colt hoped to God that abbey was with them.

Colt: Sky, have we seen the shuttle take off yet?

Sky: No. Could we have missed it?

Spots: I would have seen it for sure. Been here the whole time. It's still up there on the landing pad.

Colt: Well, hopefully we'll see them soon.

Colt gripped his gun and looked up at the access panel again. He wanted so desperately to help him crew. The waiting was killing him.

Brit *reminding him*: No help if you're dead.

Colt closed his eyes, wishing that he was upstairs in the fray. But he had to give in to the fact he wasn't and keep doing what he needed to do.

Wait some more.

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This is not for abbey, just a plot progression.

NEWHALL ESTATE SECURITY FEED - ARCHIVED FOOTAGE

START OF FEED…

The landing platform was full of activity. In one area was a shuttle. A female intruder was crouched in the doorway trying to lay down cover fire, but the shuttle was taking on heavy fire from the estate’s security forces. She ducked down as a few bullets sailed over her head, connecting inside the shuttle. Sparks flew out of the wall as she looked over anxiously at two more intruders who were taking cover on another part of the platform behind an overturned desk. Anyone with sense knew that if the shuttle didn’t take off soon, it might not be able fly at all. Some systems had already been compromised from the shots fired into the inside of the vehicle.

The feed pulled back to capture the entire platform. Security forces had positioned themselves so that if the two intruders behind the desk tried to head over to the shuttle, it would be suicide. They must have realized that because the male intruder behind the desk yelled over to the female intruder in the shuttle, accompanied by some primitive hand gestures. Facial analysis confirmed that he was telling her to leave

The female intruder in the shuttle shook her head, but the male intruder repeated his command again. The feed focused in on the female in the shuttle. More bullets flew into the interior of the shuttle and she cringed while quickly checking the damage. She looked apologetically over at her comrades and then closed up the door. Within seconds, the shuttle unsteadily lifted off the platform and escaped.

The Feed moved back over to the desk area only to find it empty. The two intruders that were located there had changed positions.

…END OF FEED

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Sky: Captain! Look!

Everyone in the boat looked skyward to see the shuttle streak away from the estate. It was wobbly, but it still moved away unpursued.

Spots *being the mechanic*: It's damaged, but they should make it back to the Book. Probably won't be able to return though.

Brit *in an agitated wail*: There is wounded on board.

Colt *kneeling next to her*: Who?

Brit: Strangebird clipped his wings.

Sky: She called Stan that before. Was everyone else there?

Brit: Must wait... *she fades off into unconsciousness again.

Colt pinched the bridge of his nose and thought hard.

Colt *eyeing a comm he had previously put near the controls*: We can't communicate up through the building cause they are jamming us. Do you think we might be able to reach the shuttle once it gets closer to the Book?

Spots *thinking*: Should be able to. Especially if we narrow the band and focus it in the direction of the ship.

Colt: Do it. Tell whoever is there to stay there and tend the best they can to the wounded... to Stan. They are not, I repeat, not to try a rescue op at this time. We can't risk the other shuttle or the ship. Without them, we're all done for. And if we don't get a response, keep transmitting until we do.

Spots nodded and got to work, taking the comm apart to make it function like he described.

---

OOC: Wash, Stan is just gravely injured. He won't be waking up anytime soon, but DON'T KILL HIM!!!

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The overturned table they're crouching against rocks as a gust of bullets ding its metal surface.

Mobbex: Why're we still here?

Oram: You passed out! I had to drag you over here, else you'd be fish bait by now.

Mobbex, his eyes wide in incredulity and wonder: You... I... How the hell did you manage that?

Another salvo of bullets strikes the makeshift barrier, disrupting their exchange.

Mobbex: Lao Tyen Yeh, how many are they?

Oram: I don't know...

Mobbex takes a quick peek at the enemy, then ducks precipitately once shots start ringing off around him.

Mobbex: I'm countin' four... *draws his revolver and deftly unlatches the cylinder* ...one of 'em's got a repeater, he's the one makin' all the rick-a-ding-ding. 'Others have small arms and stun rods... *frowns as he inspects his ammo supply* ...I don't suppose you've got some 45. shots handy?

Oram: *rolls her eyes upward* Tell me that was a rhetorical question...

Mobbex: *his frown deepens* A what?

Oram: No! No, I don't!

Mobbex: *exhales deeply* Well, s'like my ma used to say, crazy times... *plunges his hand down his pants and pulls out... a half-moon clip of 45. ACP shells, which he holds up triumphantly* ...call for crazy guys!

Oram is left gape-mouthed at the patent idiocy of the spectacle. Mobbex gleefully primes his weapon, happily oblivious to the dismayed look on Oram's face.

Mobbex: So here's the idea, I'm thinkin' we take the fight to 'em. I go right, an' y'go left, all guns blazin' like. We take 'em out 'fore they know what hit 'em. What'd ya say?

Oram: Uhhhh, how about we retreat like the smart people we are and pretend to be heros? That sounds much more fun... and then our survival rate triples also!

Mobbex: Huh? What's that nonsense I'm hearin' now? Retreat? Take a look around ya girl, there ain't no place for us to retreat to!

Oram: Well for starters there's the shuttle...

Mobbex, cutting her off: Wh- you mean they're still... *his head spins towards the far end of the lobby and the doorway to the landing pad* Wong ba duhn! *starts making crude hand gestures at Wash, urging her to take to the air without delay* Go! Just ruttin' go, you moron! Go!

Oram: What!? *taps at his shoulder frantically* What are you doing!? *thwacks him on the back of the head with the butt end of her pistol* What is wrong with you!?

Mobbex: Ow! *drops his antics and turns to face her, stroking the soreness on his noggin* Huh!? What's wrong with YOU!

Oram: She can't leave! She's our only ticket out of here!

A shift occurs in Mobbex's demeanor.

Mobbex: *grabs her by the shirt collar and and pulls her in close* I am yer only ticket outta here. Them... *points to the shuttle soaking bullets like rainfall on the landing pad* ...they're target practice. 'They stay here, they're done for, so they're goin', dohn luh mah?

Oram: F... Fine, genius! Get us out of here then!

Mobbex gives her a black look, then unhands her and resumes his signaling. Within minutes, the shuttle takes to the air and steers clear of the estate.

Oram: Great. Now what?

Mobbex: *thumbs the hammer of his revolver into its firing position* Now we bust 'em hwoon dahns up!

Oram: *shakes her head in disbelief* You're crazy.

Mobbex: *grins cocksurely* 'Just figured that out, did ya?

Oram: That ain't the question, you dope! You take them head on you're gonna get us both killed!

Mobbex: Oh yeah? Let's hear yer brilliant plan, then! And don't go talkin' 'bout any o' that retreat rubbish, we don't got no place to retreat to no more.

...

Mobbex: I'm waitin'!

Oram: Oh, save it! If you're so keen on getting yourself shot dead then go right ahead, only make sure you do me in first, 'cause I'm NOT getting caught by slavers!

Mobbex: *raises a quizzical eyebrow, his mien wavering between curiosity and disbelief* Wha-? You talk crazy nonsense like that an' tell me I'm the crazy one? You a helluva piece o' work, aren't ya?

Oram: Look, th

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Oram: Fei gan xing hou – we’re dead now…

Mobbex, who heard her, just turned and gave the girl a funny look.

Mobbex: What's it with ya today an' dyin'? We get'n outta this, ya hear me? So jes keep close an' keep shootin'.

*Doing exactly as Mobbex had said Oram shoved new bullets into her gun and began firing towards where she believed the guards were. Bullets whizzed by, clipping chips from the walls and metal fragments flying everywhere. “Moog” and his friends shot back with vengeance, coming closer to hitting Oram a few times.*

Moog: Ya give up, we’ll be gentle with handling ya!

*Oram’s reply was a well aimed bullet to his chest. Their retaliation was the grenade that they'd been discussing. Instead of coming to near where Oram was standing it landed not far from the overturned table, where it made an almighty ‘THUD’*

Oram: Ohhh, go se.

*She jumped up to get away, but was too late to escape. She ‘felt’ the blast rather then hear it and just before being knocked out she felt fire, pain and what could only be described as being crushed on the left side of her body*

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Fg f!

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Quote:

---

Originally posted by ORAM:
Oram: Fei gan xing hou – we’re dead now…

Mobbex, who heard her, just turned and gave the girl a funny look.

Mobbex: What's it with ya today an' dyin'? We get'n outta this, ya hear me? So jes keep close an' keep shootin'.

---

Mobbex squats to maximize his explosive power and starts a quick mental countdown.

3...

Ruttin' hell... someone blew it big.

2...

Them folks are jes too damn green! 'Be curious to see how they'd manage without me babyin' their sloppy asses...

1...

Aw, hell! Here goes...

He darts out of their precarious refuge and sprints across the hall as fast as his legs will carry him, with each thrust from his powerful lower limbs lunging him several meters ahead. The sputter of gunfire once again fills the room, spurring him on to quicken his pace even further. Suddenly, he makes out a set of sharp, ringing sounds amidst the havoc, like a metal casing clinking and rolling off the floor. He instinctively hits the deck, shielding his head with his bare hands, just as a thunderous explosion rips through the room. He feels the resulting shock wave whiz past him, along with its deathly cortège of shrapnel and debris, then gets back on his feet and takes a judging look at the blast's aftermath.

One of the guards has been nicked by fragments from the bomb's shell and lies bleeding on the floor, clutching at his wounds. Another one staggers to hit feet, his ears no doubt still ringing from the detonation. A third one has his gun trained on him.

Mobbex dives to his side as the guard lets off a shot, then draws his piece mid-flight and responds in kind, nailing him square in the throat, before coming down hard on his shoulder. He feels a tingling sensation run up and down his arm upon impacting the floor, but tunes it out, having more pressing matters to see to.

Meanwhile, the one remaining guard seems to have emerged from his idle state and is now clumsily waving his weapon in Mobbex's direction. He fires, but misses widely, a fault he won't live to redeem. Mobbex levels his pistol and presses the trigger twice, sending a pair of rounds bury themselves in the man's upper body.

The mercenary sits and blows off the undulating tendrils of smoke oozing from the borehole of his gun, grinning boastfully at his shooting prowess, when a thought strikes him. He springs to his feet and hurries back towards the overturned table where he finds Oram lying unmoving against a wall with her arm curved at a most unnatural angle.

Tzao gao...

Mobbex: *kneels beside her and nudges her shoulder* 'You dead?

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*abbey looked on in horror as she watched the guards with the girl across the hall. Their evil laughter and her quiet whimpering as they did whatever they wanted. Finally, not being able to take it any longer, she sat down on the floor, pulled her legs up to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands over her ears. After what seemed to be an eternity, she heard pounding on her door. She looked up. There stood the two guards. Her heart froze. Were they going to come in for her now?*

Nasty #2 *as he touched his fingers to a wicked claw mark that went deep across the one side of his whole face*: Damn girl gouged me!

Nasty #1 *ignoring the other guard*: Well visiting takes a bunch out of you, so we’re gonna get some chow. After that, we’ll be back. Some of the other fellas might want to meet you too. Looks like you and your friends did some major damage downstairs, they might be looking for some kind of… comfort. But don’t worry, we’ll be real gentle, just like the boss asked.

*Nasty #1’s eyes raked slowly up and down abbey’s form.*

abbey *shakily*: You leave me alone. My people will be coming for me.

Nasty #1 *laughing*: Honey, no one is coming for you, unless you count the folk the Boss called.

*Nasty #1 blew her a kiss and Nasty #2 just smirked at her. Then they left. Silent tears started to pour from her eyes. Could it be true? Did they leave her? No. Oram wouldn’t have let them leave her. Neither would Colt. If they weren’t there anymore, then they would surely come back for her. They had to. What if they all were dead? She shook that idea out of her head and started to look around for a way to help herself.*

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*** hit comm***

Mobbex ? oram ? what the hell r u two doing now?

hurry up and page me when y'all are done alright.

*** looks ot the window wondering if everyone is alright, hits comm again***

hey capt you there?

*** figures he will now know what to do . all of a sudden sees the big explosion ot hte window ****

Oram , mobbex come in... R guys All right?

I am a leaf on the wind

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*Spots finished up modifying the comm to hopefully be able to send a message to the Book.*

Spots: We won’t be able to receive. I had to hook the wire there and bypass the… *looks up and sees Colt and Sky looking at him a little impatiently* Well, we won’t be able to receive.

Colt: Will the Book get our message?

Spots: I think so. No guarantees.

*Colt nodded and took the modified unit and stood, pointing it in the direction of the Book.*

Colt: Shuttle 2 or the Book. We can’t receive, but I want you all to listen very carefully. Do what you can with the wounded. Keep them safe. Brit told me Stan was hit, but I don’t know about anyone else.

Brit *loudly, from down by Colt’s feet*: BOOM!

Colt jumped, nearly dropping the unit. Up above an explosion sounded.

Colt: What in the rutting Hell is going on up there? *turns back to comm* We’re holding put. Brit says that crew needs us in this position. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt a rescue mission. It looked like the shuttle isn’t in good shape when you flew overhead and we can’t risk the Book. When we’re done here, we’ll rendezvous at the Book.

Sky: You think they heard?

Colt: Hope so. *he spoke over the comm again.* Just a recap, folks. We can’t receive any comms. Take care of wounded best you can. Do NOT try to launch rescue. We’ll rendezvous soon at Book.

*Colt took the comm and handed it back to Spots.*

Colt: Keep transmitting those instructions. Maybe they’ll get it.

*Spots nodded and did as he was told, adding a “Cause-the-Cap’-said-so” to the message.*

*Colt looked down at Brit.*

Colt: How much longer?

Brit: Twisty, twisty broken bits, up and around again… *she stopped at tilted her head to the side as she looked at Colt.* Soon.

*Colt took in a deep breath and set his jaw. The waiting was killing him.*

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*Oram’s head felt fuzzy, almost as if it wasn’t attached to her body, and her ears wouldn’t cease their damn ringing. Keeping her eyes closed and willing herself not to give into the threatening nausea, she was ready to welcome a blackout again when she heard heavy footsteps.*

Voice: Tzao gao...

*Then a hard nudge to her shoulder caused her the groan and shift.*

Voice: You dead?

*Large fingers came around her throat and Oram panicked, thinking she was done for. Her eyes flew open and she immediately wished she was dead, the flickering light played merry-havoc with her focussing, but her instincts were screaming at her to move. Trying to pull away, she turned her body away from whoever it was and felt the world dim just a bit as an excruciating feeling like someone had stabbed her, shot through from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. As she screamed at the sudden and agonizing pain she knew something was wrong.

The owner’s fingers immediately covered her mouth, almost preventing her from breathing. Oram, not wanting to be placed in any more of dire situation than she already was, didn’t bother to fight back.*

Mobbex (in a hurriedly and tense voice): Shhhh, Doc, you wanna get us killed?! I just took out the last few here, doesn’t mean we’re safe. I reckon we’ll be playing that retreating card you're so fond off.

*Oram blinked the tears of terror, fear and intense relief away, and tried to shake her head in answer, but it caused her to want to vomit, so she settled for just blinking up at him. Thankful it was only his hand on her mouth and not a knife at her throat.*

Oram: Mobb…

*The name refused to come out formed or any resemblance of a proper sound and Oram feared it was a heavy concussion or, and so much worse to think of, a brain injury. Mobbex gave her a funny look, almost as if he were to say something in concern, but seemed to rethink his own words and helped her get to her feet instead. He got her up surprisingly gently from the almost utterly destroyed room and she could just make out the damage that they, including the guards, had caused.*

Mobbex: There’s an elevator that they haven’t been smart enough to cut the power off to yet, if we’re lucky we can get out here without any more injuries…

*His voice trailed off as he looked at the Docs back, she’d been hit by shrapnel, and her shirt (he didn’t know where the fancy jacket had gone) was all torn up where it’d hit, there wasn’t too much blood, but there was a risk of that changing if they moved around too much … or did summersaults.*

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