Walking into the assembly hall, his appearance was a subtle and quiet thing. People took notice of him, a few looked twice, but no one considered him past what he was - A Kusari man in a black coat - as it rustled, a pistol in a shoulder-holster would peek from the shadows - past that, nothing to warrant thinking that he wasn't just another Freelancer.
Sagara himself took a moment to wonder why he was even here - between the exhale of breath, and the twitch of his fingers at his sides. He had made promises to the IMG...
And what of it? He had made a promise to his father, and he was dead. Made a promise to a girl who loved him, and left her in sorrow. Made another to her fiance, and he was cold from Sagara's own pistol. The one that sat in his shoulder holster like a sleeping god. His promises apparently counted for nothing.
He worked for the IMG because he felt he had a kharmic debt to pay. Had he paid it? Not a whit. All he had done was smile, make lies, and take life. Yet for all his word and oath seemed to be worth, it brought a rueful and wane smile to his face - such is life
Was he willing to kill the IMG, those he made promises too, for the right amount of money? Yes. He was.
Was it for freedom of a system that meant nothing to him? No, it was not.
What was it for? Smiles. Lies. And Gunfire.
"Your pay will have to be good, to buy off a mans soul, Foster," he whispered to himself, "The devil dislikes it when someone seeks to take his place..."
Hearing the voices, seeing the eyes of all that were around, Silver couldn't but to chuckle.
She turned to Lach and replied.
"They're more 'lancers than mercs, Lach. They need a reason. They want a motive."
Silver then placed her hand with the palm facing up, and her Security Chief quickly placed her gun in her hand.
The sound of the energy charging the coils in that gun were something that always made Silver grin.
And with the grin in her lips, she aimed the gun to the ceiling, clicked the settings to give a full power blast, and shot.
The sound of the gun alone made the whole marketplace go silent.
Silver ejected the clip and gave the gun back to her Sec-Chief, while eyeing everyone in the now packed marketplace.
"The talks of who, what, how and when have to wait. We need to know first.. How much Miss Foster is willing to cough up. 'Cause everythin' ultimately.. is 'bout creds."
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
Davis had become rather annoyed by the whole thing thus far something which he failed to hide when he spoke up "Look..Rather consider the Republic a threat we should be focusing our discussions on the Guild. Do I need to remind you people that they were the ones that kicked this sorry incident off."
He cleared his throat
"Mark my words. We anger the wrong group and things are going to get a whole lot harder"
Lachina sighed, expecting this crowd to be patient was futile but if it continues this way the it will start to look like in a parlament here.
"Colonials owe a few billions to the Liberty Republic and the Interspace Neuralnet Division. If you look from under on their shipyards you might find a "enforcement seized" mark there. " she sighed again and took of her gun
Freelancers that were loyal to the IMG and earned good money had informed the IMG about what was going on on Barrier Gate and Jack, who had done most of the fixing in this completely retarded affair, had been studying the reports about aggression and planetary takeovers with growing concern.
After sending a message to Silver, he had grabbed an unmarked shuttle to Barrier and had landed there. His last will was written, his secretary knew to send it to Anna in case this was the last operation he would ever be going on.
Jack is standing in the crowd, wearing sunglasses, normal clothes, a hoodie, hardly concealed handguns and he doesn't really look different than all the other freelancers and mercs that were around him. He had brought a few trustworthy friends from his old days in the wild Dublin freelance days. They merged into the picture as he does, just to make sure that it would not be too easy to make it his last difficult and risky mission.
But he wanted to see the enemy in reality. Wanted to see whether the reports were correct and whether the Barrier Gate people would really unite to strike against the Guild for a declaration that has already been withdrawn and for which he had been on his knees in front of the Merc Queen. He had accepted the humilitation because he knew that the mistake had been on the side of the IMG Guildmasters that had chosen that path. And a mistake deserves consequences. But in his opinion, the consequences have already been put in place...
He keeps scanning the room until he sees Silver. Still an ally? Already an enemy?
"Where do you stand in this, Kal?" he asks himself silently, only in thoughts. And: "Where is this Ms. Forster... or whatever..." he keeps scanning, hoping to see the opponent to at least look her in the eye, or if he saw a realistic chance, try to change the outcome.
Shooting guns, argument, hollow promises. Was that what this was all about? Sagara thought that maybe his time was wasted here. In scanning the crowd, he wondered what the IMG would pay for these people so willing to plot against them - to kill them. After all, the IMG was what? Miners? Men and Women looking for wage? And these people, who felt their independence threatened, would put them down so callously?
Well...wouldn't he? Touche. Regardless. He wondered what IMG would pay for Fosters head. Some of these people were better pilots. But better gunslingers? At least he could say he had killed men with his. Assumptions however...were always the best way to find the end.
And then Jack appeared. The people who saw him, who recognized who he was, got smiles. Some of the looks were admiration for his courage to walk into the lions den - while others realized that this debacle just got a helluva lot more interesting.
He traveled with four bodyguards - they didn't flank him on all sides, but moved through the crowd, trying to stay non-nondescript - when anyone could easily see who and what they were. Always within five feet, ready to protect Jack, with their lives if need be.
And then he saw. One of the bystanders wasn't content with simply looking. Maybe he thought he'd get a nice bonus from Foster if he cut the head off the snake? Maybe he had an axe to grind. Either way, he noticed Jack, drank his beer, chatted with a friend, and as Jack moved past, the man took up the pace behind him. He didn't reach for a gun - he didn't have too. Sagara saw a knife drop from his sleeve into the waiting palm of his right hand. The nearest bodyguard focused on someone reaching into their coat a little too fast, but would find it was only cigarettes - too late to save Jack.
Too late.
Sagara moved like a shadow. He gently nudged a man out of his way, placed his hand on the shoulder of another as he passed. The would be assassins arm had raised, the knife poised for a lethal kidney wound. Gliding into his path, he put his hands on the mans arm, and guided the force of his thrust, and up into his own throat.
There was a gurgle of blood as he tried to make some sort of sound. The look on his face was shocked horror, then, indignation as he focused on Sagara. But those looks never last. Dying people always looked the same. That look of sadness. It always spoke volumes, that oh god what have I done? look. That no, I can't be dying, no... look. Sagara's iron expression softened, and he whispered to the dying man. "Its ok. Your going to the clearing at the end of the path. It's all going to be alright..."
As the man fell to the ground, he had bled out enough to fall unconscious. He didn't look like the words were even heard, much less comprehended. He slumped, hitting the floor with a loud thud. A ring had formed around the incident, and some of the looks Sagara got said only that he was next in the deadbook.
So this is Barrier. The station that the IMG built for the famous Freelancer George Tinsley. The station that IMG mining workers from Pecos flocked to when the situation on the ice ball became too bad and the merciless climate became unbearable. A station that has always been a point where all these free people met with the Independent Miners in peace... a rough place for sure. But generally not a hostile one. Wrong assumption.
Jack did not even realize the danger, as he assumed that he was largely unknown around here. Another wrong assumption in at least one case. He only realized that something was not alright when he heard a female yell of a waitress, then the sound of many breaking glasses when her tray hit the floor. Jack has already moved on when the dying assassin who would have targetted him a few seconds later dropped to the floor a few meters behind him. One of Jack's friends reacted quickly and rushed towards the scene, but there was nothing to do, only a dying man to be seen. The remaining just move on, as if nothing had happened.
A short moment later, Jack caught a glimpse of a known face that was looking at him. Daniel Sagara. The escort pilot that had forced convoys through massive resistance, harvesting them like the Reaper. The man he had personally recommended for his service on that day. It's only a short nod in his direction and eye contact for a second. Nothing else for the next few steps that takes Jack and his men further away from the excitement and attention that he wants to avoid.
Jack keeps moving, passes Sagara him without looking directly, but silently whispers when passing him closely:
"Daniel, no publicity... still... thank you. Stick around..." he says under his breath while passing him and moving to a quieter part, that was protected rather well from the looks of most. Even if someone recognized him in the confusion, it would be very hard to keep track of him between the people that were all focussing on some discussions or were arguing in small groups.
Anyway, some dead seemed to be just normal in this chaos that they called an assembly. He sees that the bodies of those that the Merc Queen killed herself were just being dragged out of the hall. Red lines on the floor remain.
With a short shake of his head, he chooses a random drink of a tray of a too young waitress with torn fishnet stockings who passes by. He tries to relax. Impossible.
He remembered the lesson from 5th Boarding, the freelance security group that he had worked with when he was a young man: fear keeps you alive.
__
//Dane's char Daniel Sagara knifed an unnamed NPC assassin, using the assassin's knife. Requires close reading to avoid confusion... this is the summary and it's the way Dane intended it.:)
//In general, I'd prefer conversation and I do not envision a freelancer meeting like a 13th century barbarian arena massacre, but for those that plan to hurt/kill my char: I rp with the so-called "victim's rule". It means: You can TRY to do something to my char, the victim of the attack always decides on the success and the consequences for his char. It's a basic method of rping controversy and avoiding powergaming.
Tobi decides to move to the group, He pulls out his PDA once more and starts to record the conversation. " So its good then, anyway then since I have a past with a few of the miner lads and I'll probably feel sorry for them after I blow them up but" Tobi smirks deviously " Who ever can bring me Jack Hendersons head I'll pay another 6 Million credits ontop of what ever Ms Foster here is willing pay for him. Lets just say its a Personal grudge."
' Wrote:As much as I hate having to agree with Tobi, I agree with everything he said. Get off Newark and get out there ingame doing stuff. Seriously, I should charge you for parking
Izzy frowned. "But their not aiming for Barrier Gate, are they? No, they are staying at their corners, and not entroaching." Izzy crosses her arms. "They haven't made a move to take over, and have said they won't. If we attack them, it just opens a door for them to seige Barrier. As you said, they have battleships. I'd rather not have them sitting outside, pounding away, while I try and have a quiet drink." She shakes her head as Reaper makes his announcement. Petty revenge. Whatever.
Izzy moved towards the commotion, eying the fallen man, the lithe Kusarian who, most likely had taken him out, and the man doing a decent job of being inconspicuous. Sighing, she sat back on a stall and decided to keep vigilant.
Natsumi Hideyoshi (The Order) | Alexis Hunter (Liberty Navy) |