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Missing Man Formation - Printable Version

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Missing Man Formation - Manticore - 08-16-2012

// Invited participants only. Thanks!

[Image: ZCEWC.jpg]
ID: JAMES LAMBERT

It was too late. The blood was already in the water, and the sharks had come.

The smuggler he had been pursuing was gone, and now Lieutenant (Junior Grade) James Lambert was trapped. He peered; face taut with worry, out the canopy of his Liberty Navy-issue Guardian fighter into the dark gloom of New York'€™s Badlands. He couldn'€™t see a thing out there, aside from the tall, oblong asteroids and thick gasses that made up this dark underside of Liberty'€™s capital system. For a moment, he considered how much the silent, dark asteroids reminded him of tombstones.

Fitting, after all, considering how this place has become a graveyard for the Navy'€™s most daring and idiotic pilots over the years. And now it looks like I'€™m the next to be interred.

He couldn'€™t make out the enemy ships, but his scanners effortlessly pierced the veil of gasses and told the ghastly truth. In his focus on the smuggler, he hadn'€™t noticed their approach until they had closed to within range of their cruise disruptors. Now, the trap was complete, and there was no escape.

His scanners told him there were at least three of them out there. Liberty Rogues, the disgruntled workers and petty criminals who had somehow managed to become a pirate empire despite their hodgepodge equipment and complete lack of morals. Lambert had killed several of their number in dogfights, but the odds against him now seemed insurmountable

Especially he thought, for the man whose West Point flying instructors had called '€œThe worst fighter pilot to come through the academy in at least the last six years.'€

He slowly gathered all the focus he could muster, and turned the comm channel'€™s volume back up.

'€œ'€...there Mr. Navy Boy, you'€™re a little bit far from home, aren'€™t you?'€ one of the Rogues, with a somewhat harsh but distinctly female voice, was saying.

Another voice, this one male, piped up, '€œCome '€˜ere boy, let'€™s dance!'€

Lambert took a deep breath, and then spoke clearly into the mic, his voice emanating across the open comm channel, '€œThis is James Lambert of the Liberty Navy. I am in distress in the Badlands. Rogues are present. Please assist.'€ He knew the Badlands would distort his message once it finally escaped to the open space near West Point, but perhaps someone would pick up a fragment of it and just maybe get here in time.

The female Rogue cackled over the comm channel, '€œNobody heard you,'€ and then in a sing-song voice, '€œYouuuuu'€™re in trouuuuble.'€

The other Rogue spoke up again, '€œYou know what, fellas? We should catch this one. Might be... fun.'€

'€œOh yes! I bet he'€™d look cute in a dress. He could come play tea party with me!'€ the female Rogue squealed in obvious excitement.

'€œSo Navy boy, what'€™s it gonna be? You gonna come along now or will we have to space you first?'€

Lambert winced. He wasn'€™t going to delay them much longer. After a moment'€™s hesitation, he said, '€œI will... fight.'€

'€œOh goodie, I love a good chase. Fellas, light him up!'€

Lambert reacted immediately, powering up his engines and engaging the afterburner. He dodged the initial bout of fire, and then powered up his weapons and entered a dogfight with the lead Rogue.

It was a twisting, vicious affair. The cramped confines of the Badlands made it difficult to track a target, and all parties took full advantage of it. Considering the numbers against him, Lambert performed well, but only a true master could have escaped the situation he was in.

His ship was a battered hulk, still able to weave and dodge but hardly able to return fire. All of his nanobots were depleted, and it would only take one or two more hits to finish him off. The computer continued to sing out status reports, and then took to repeating the same thing over and over.

'€œRecommend eject! Recommend eject! Recommend eject!'€ On and on, ad nauseum.

The ship shuddered as another Sammael smashed into the hull, blasting away a chunk of the tailsection.

'€œFire in subsection five-beta! Recommend eject! Recommend...'€

Lambert closed his eyes, and reached down beneath his flight console on the right side, grasping a large handle in his gloved fist. He sucked in a deep breath of air, and then yanked it, hard.

There was a blinding explosion of fire and light, and he felt the lurch of thrusters kick in as he was blasted away from his crippled fighter. For a brief instant, he was able to see the remains of his ship, belching fire, smash into an asteroid and explode, and then the escape pod coalesced around his flight suit and all was plunged into darkness.


Missing Man Formation - Widow - 08-16-2012

[Image: anneambyitenerant.jpg]

Pita grinned as she picked up his escape pod from space. Normally, they would have left it there but she wanted something new to play with. Her dolls were boring her, and her parents were never home. "I'm going to keep you in the cells until I get back, the guard might feed you..." She giggled and proceeded to dock on Buffalo. Jo could be heard in the background, saying something about how he almost felt sorry for the man. Pita was known to be a little obsessive. Her parents were always in the bar, drunk, leaving her an Arrow and to fend for herself. The Rogues had grown to realise they weren't going to keep her at home, while their friends often found it unhealthy for a young girl of her age to be in space.

After Pita had landed, she called the Rogues standing in the hanger over to help get him to somewhere more secure. "We should just shoot him now, and be done with it. Moka wont like him here" Pita glared at the man that spoke, and put her hands on her hips, making a face. "If you kill him, you WILL come and play tea parties with me." The man stopped and muttered something about Pita being psychotic. The Rogues dragged the man to a small cell with nothing but a metal slab for a bed.

Hours passed, and Pita returned with a bright pink dress. "Put this on." She grinned. "Unless you'd rather be dealing with the boys out there. They would rip you apart limb by limb." Pita laughed. "I've seen them do it before you know, they really don't like navy boys. You're lucky your cute and you will make the perfect doll...." She checked to make sure the door was locked. When she was sure he was secure she turned and skipped back the way she came from.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word
Daddy's gonna buy you a mocking bird
And if that mockingbird won't sing
Daddy's gonna squash it with the heel of his shoe.
And if the heel of his shoe won't work
Daddy will probably just crush it with a brick.
And if crushing..... "


Her singing faded into what was almost silence. The murmurs of men could be heard, almost drowned out by the sound of slow but steady driping of water.


Missing Man Formation - Manticore - 08-16-2012

[Image: ZCEWC.jpg]
ID: JAMES LAMBERT

James Lambert lay on the metal slab and stared at the flickering light embedded in the metal ceiling. The flickers came in a long, steady pattern which seemed to indicate an old fault in the electrical wiring, rather than a burned out bulb. He stared and pondered this possibility for many long minutes, consumed by the eternal patience and boredom that was the prisoner'€™s curse.

Eventually, his mind found its way back to other subjects. He knew he needed to get his head on straight for what was surely to come, so he forced himself to tune out the flickering light and remember back to the events that had brought him here to this dank cell.

The fire... the explosion... and then there had been nothing but blackness. Next had been lots of movement, confusion, sounds. He had remembered his agony, the agony of powerlessness, as he hadn'€™t even known where he was, or where he was going. It had seemed to last an eternity, but logic told him it had only been perhaps twenty minutes. Then he had felt himself spinning, rolling, and falling hard onto a hard floor. Then the knife had cut through the escape pod material, revealing his captor...

It had been a little girl, in her early teens at most. She had babbled at him for a moment, incoherent words falling empty on his shell-shocked consciousness. Next thing he could remember, a couple of strong-armed toughs, the kind of Rogues he was familiar with, were dragging him through the halls of their base. What base was it, anyways? He had to assume it was Buffalo Base, the secret Badlands hideout of the Rogues that no Liberty officer had ever seen firsthand and lived to talk about it.

Lambert'€™s features hardened. Well, there'€™s a first time for everything, after all.

He thought back to the girl and what she'€™d said, both when she first cut him open and when she'€™d come to his cell later. She'€™d mentioned something about Moka. Moka, of course, was the self-proclaimed '€œLord'€ of the Rogues. Wonder if she intends to turn me over to him?

He remembered her second visit more clearly. The song she'€™d been singing on her way down the hall had taken a long time to stop echoing in his head. She would be back soon.

Wasn'€™t there something she told me to do?

He turned his head, looking back towards the cell door at the pathetic excuse for a cell. It was all plain, dull metal... save for a flash of bright pink on the floor. He lifted his head to get a better look at it, and saw it was a girl'€™s dress. Frills and lace lay spread across the floor in a slightly crumpled state of dishevelment. Water dripped from somewhere onto the hem of the dress, splattering it with an ugly brown stain.

Suddenly, he remembered the girl'€™s words. "Put this on. Unless you'd rather be dealing with the boys out there. They would rip you apart limb by limb." And then she had laughed like it was the funniest thing in the entire universe. He remembered that. The deep, almost forced sound of the laugh, and her eyes...

The thugs outside didn'€™t scare him at all '€“ the girl did. So he sat up, and reached for the dress, pulling it off the floor. He held it up with a slight wince and hesitated at the thought of the humiliation of having to wear it.

Ours not to reason why...

He slowly pulled the dress over his head, and settled it loosely over his flight suit. He sighed, and then leaned back against the wall to wait for whatever was to come next.

He wouldn'€™t have to wait long.


Missing Man Formation - Widow - 08-16-2012

[Image: 8e57fedf956218358e82818.jpg]

Pita had landed back on Buffalo, and had spent the last hour setting up a table for the first tea party. She was excited. Her parents hadn't paid the bills, so her guest would have to drink cold tea. She didn't care, she was use to it. She wound up an old styled music box, the music rang out through the room. Little chine tea cups were set out on a small table, biscuits she had made next to them. A glass vase was filled with dying flowers and the teapots were chipped. She had a set of cards, and a small glass vile she had next to where she planned to sit.

Her dolls were set up around the table, the ones with eyes were staring coldly across the room. Most had their eyes cut out, some had their hair shaved off, all had their mouths stitched shut. She wandered to the door and yelled at a man across the hallway. "Bob! I'm using your thing again, I'm going to have a tea party!" He waved his hand, probably busy a female slave. She shrugged.

Pita walked to a cupboard, opening it slowly. She pulled out a set of what looked like handcuffs without the chain connecting them. A small metal chip was in its place. Pita pulled a key out of her pocket, and unlocked them. She pulled them apart so they would be ready to be used. She then dug around and found a small gadget that looked like a small remote control, covered in glitter and sparkly beads attached to a chain. Pita put this around her neck before she changed into a white dress with what looked to be covered in a small faded cake patterning. She put on some lipstick and smiled, before skipping off to the cell.

"Wake up fishey... I want to play." She grinned. "You do look pretty. I knew I made a good choice. Its just a pity you haven't got any make up on... I'll fix that one day. I'm sure Mom has some somewhere I can use....." Pita pushed the bracelets through the bar. "Put these on, and I'll open the door." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to put them on. The last man didn't, she frowned slightly as she wondered if they had cleaned up his body yet. After deciding probably not, she shrugged.

"Don't make me get the boys out there... I'll make sure they keep your arm for my dog... Or maybe your leg.... Your leg would be nicer for him I think." She didn't seem to be phased when making these threats. But, growing up around death it just becomes another part of life.


Missing Man Formation - Manticore - 08-16-2012

[Image: ZCEWC.jpg]
ID: JAMES LAMBERT

'€œ'€...your leg would be nicer for him, I think."

Lambert stared at her for a moment, his mind still a little groggy and slow to grasp the concept of what she was asking for. Then he saw the pair of bracelets she was holding forth through the bar.

'€œYou want me to put those... things on my wrists? Why?'€

She responded, yet once again her words simply bounced off of his weary consciousness like a Starbeam off a Dreadnought'€™s shield. Yet the whole time he was staring into her eyes, at once enthralled and repulsed by what he saw there.

He reached out his arm, easily spanning the width of the tiny cell, and grabbed the bracelets from her small, delicate hands. He obeyed not because of her words, words he had not even heard, but rather he obeyed because of what he saw in her eyes. As bizarre as it seemed, considering her age and appearance, he feared her.

And so he snapped the bracelets on his wrists, stood up, and waited for her to open the door.


Missing Man Formation - Manticore - 08-16-2012

[Image: Xz7MC.jpg]
ID: BANSHEE

The Lane Hacker gunboat appeared like a ghost from the darkness of the Badlands. Halting in front of Buffalo Base, it submitted a docking request. Yet instead of an automated acceptance in reply, the gunboat received a personal message from the flesh-and-blood dockmaster.

'€œThe Banshee'€™s Cry, eh? And just what in the seven hells do ye'€™ want at Buffalo?'€ the dockmaster demanded, clearly agitated by the appearance of the Hacker ship.

An unnatural voice responded, rich with passion and a hint of something... synthetic. '€œI am here to speak to a guest of yours. The rest doesn'€™t concern you, dear Rogue.'€

'€œAh, I know who yer'€™ speakin'€™ of. Just make yer'€™ business with '€˜im quick.'€

The docking bay door opened immediately, and Banshee guided her ship into the base. A suitable bay was found, and she methodically disconnected herself from the ship'€™s interfaces. The pain that was a constant part of her existence was long forgotten. She hadn'€™t even felt the effects of the drug entering what was left of her body since the moment she had heard the news.

Lambert was here; at last he'€™d been found.

Her ruined face managed to contort itself into something that once might have been called a smile.

And as for her... she was the harbinger of his doom.


Missing Man Formation - Widow - 08-17-2012

[Image: 8e57fedf956218358e82818.jpg]

Pita watched him as he put the bracelets on, laughing once he had done so. She pulled a key out of a small pocket on her dress and waved it in front of the bars. "This is the only way to get those off you now." She Put it back into the pocket and pulled the small device around her neck from under her dress. "Now, If you don't do what I tell you to.... all I have to do is push this button. The more you make me push it, the worse it gets."

She stopped for a moment and bit her lip, she had forgotten something but couldn't remember what it was. Shaking her head, she grinned again. "Let me show you what it does...." She pushed the button, and a humming noise could be heard, before they became alive with electricity, the first shock was enough to bring a man to his knees. "This killed my last 'doll'. You see, he tried to....."

Pita stopped mid sentence as her PDA rang out. She looked at it and saw a message from the dockmaster. 'Banshee wants to talk to your... prisoner sometime soon. Told her she could.' Pita scowled as she crossed her arms and made it clear she wasn't planning on going anywhere before laughing and saying "You must love getting yourself into trouble.... You've upset a Hacker... And after all, You should have known better then to come try find our home." She looked like she didn't want an answer to the question, and unlocked the door. "Well.. Hurry up. Follow me."

Pita skipped ahead, turning back occasionally to make sure Lambert was following. They finally reached the end of the maze of halls, Pita opened a door and told him to sit down on the far side of the table. She made a face at one of the dolls before taking a seat after him. "Drink." She looked at him and waited for him to take a sip of the cold tea. "My dolls always drink their tea, so you have to." She decided he wasn't going to, and pushed the button again, electrocuting him again. "I said DRINK." She glared at him, watching him take a sip.


Missing Man Formation - Haphestus - 08-17-2012

[Image: 26052012.jpg]
Clark looked around his Grizzly's cockpit, checking that all the systems where functioning. He chinned the radio toggle in his flight helmet and dialed in the Norfolk Flight Control radio frequency.
"Clark to Norfolk Flight Control, Marine Search and Rescue Grizzlies have been launched and accounted for, request permission for green light on search and rescue mission in the Badlands"
"Norfolk Flight Control here, you have a green light on S-A-R operation. Bring our people home Commander, god speed sir."
Clark chinned the radio toggle again to disconnect the channel.
God i hate being "sir"ed Clark thought to himself.
He turned around to look at the two other marines with him in the Grizzly. Technical Specialist Ohms and Private First Class "Mando" Mandiblson. What Clark would classify as 'Good Marines'
Accompanying Clark and the marines in his grizzly where two other Grizzlies similar to Clark's, As well as a "Bison" class Marine Heavy Transport dubbed the "Arleigh Burke". Presently commanded by Clark's long time friend and X.O, Lieutenant Josephine "Josie" Alibrandi. The "Burke" as it was commonly referred to by naval officers and marines, would be acting as medical support in case it would be needed. Clark chinned the radio toggle once again and dialed in the radio frequency for the two Grizzlies and Bison.
"Clark to S-A-R flight, we have a green light, Grizzlies form up on my and then spread out into a 10k across loose formation. Josie keep the Burke outside the field. We don't need the Burke getting stuck in the rocks."
"Roger that, engaging cruise drive to per-determined location."
"Grizzlies, You know what we are dealing with, Navy scrags dun' got themselves blown up in the Badlands. Its our jobs to pull their scraggly squid asses out of the fire......again. MOVE OUT!"
Clark reached over to the throttle and engaged the cruise drive to full throttle.


Missing Man Formation - Widow - 08-17-2012

[Image: 8e57fedf956218358e82818.jpg]

Pita grinned as she watched the man drink the tea. "Now, what was it I named you... Brenna... thats right." Pita laughed and poured a cup of tea for a doll with one eye, and half its head missing. "So, Brenna" She put a biscuit on each of the dolls plates, and one on Lamberts'. "What do you think of my dress?" She looked at him expectantly, he nodded slightly but didn't speak. She frowned and picked up her cup, taking a drink of tea. "You are too quiet. My dolls talk more then you do." She picked up a biscuit and took a bite, before looking at a doll that still had its long blonde hair, and both eyes.

In an instant, Pita dropped her biscuit and put her hands over her ears. "Shut up.. shut up.. shut up!" She picked up the blonde doll and a knife, she began to cut out one of its eyes almost in a frenzied manner, muttering something about how the doll cant talk to her if it can't see her. After she had finished cutting one of the dolls eyes out and it had dropped to the floor, she sat it back at the table. Pita put down the knife and picked up her cup, taking a small sip. "Brenna, I asked you a question... What did you think of my dress?" It was almost as if she hadn't realised any time had passed since she first asked it.

"Its good to see you liked your tea." Pita made a gesture towards his cup. "I made it from the finest Bretonian kind. You see, the boys destroyed a ship especially to get it for me.... I prefer the raspberry one, but thats ok. Do you want some more?" She asked and smiled, for a moment, she almost looked like an ordinary child. She shrugged as he shook his head. "You won't be getting any dinner then. So you will have to wait until tomorrow until our next tea party!" She sounded excited when she mentioned the next party. Pita finished her tea and sat in silence for around 5 minutes, looking expectantly at the dolls around the table. "Ok, they have finished. Its time to go to your bedroom..... We have a big day planned tomorrow!" Pita clapped excitedly as she stood up, and watched him as he stood also. She pointed to the door, and walked next to him, making him hold her hand this time.

"I like you" She giggled, as she picked up a small blue bag from a shelf on the way out of the room. "You really are the best doll I've had. You're quiet." They walked in silence back to the cell. Pita pointed and he stepped into it, she shut and locked the door behind him. "Here, put some of this on, you still look like an ugly navy man. Once you don't, you will be perfect!" She turned to walk away, singing another song as she left.

"So don't you dare and try to walk away
I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you all right"


As it had before, her singing faded into the dripping water, Lambert opened the bag to find a bright red lipstick, some light pink blusher, blue eye shadow and glittery mascara.


Missing Man Formation - Haphestus - 08-18-2012

[Image: 26052012.jpg]

Clark took off his flight helmet to wipe away the sweat clouding his vision. He looked around checking all the radar monitors. Nothing. Clark put his helmet back on and double checked the vacuum seals.
Five hours, five hours of searching in the Badlands. Five hours of ducking huge rocks, Little to no visibility and the nebula playing havoc with everyone's systems. Many of Clark's fellows have been killed or just disappeared in this place. A loud beeping started ringing in Clark's ear. It was the fuel alarm. Clark chinned the radio toggle.
"Clark to Grizzlies, i guess you lot are hearing the same music i am hearing, change your heading to the Burke." Clark chinned the voice toggle once again. Something within Clark was annoyed.
"Damn it! Mando, run one more sweep. we have enough fuel if we drop to fifty percent standard engine power."
"Yes S...i mean yes Jorzza."
No man deserves to die in this soup Clark thought to himself.
"SIR, I have something! On our one o'clock. 4 clicks out"
"Mando, don't sir me, i work for a god damned living, Wait did you just say you have something?"
"Its weak but we have a S.O.S signal, Silhouette looks like a Guardian, looks like the cockpit section is still there. Checking the verification........Its.....A Guardian that was lost over 12 months ago. Second Lieutenant Jean O'Dean. Reported as M.I.A. Assumed ambushed by pirates, Body never recovered."
"Damn, well at least we can we can bring the family some comfort. Ohms, prepare the recovery hooks."
"Okay deploying recovery hooks"
Damn i got my hopes up Clark thought to himself.