07-03-2013, 07:06 AM
The chaos of war draws different reactions from everyone in the middle. Some panic and flee, with or without rational thought. Some opportunists seek to profit, harvesting illegal organs, abducting would-be refugees as slaves. Some simply follow whatever orders they're given, putting all theri hopes in someone else's plan.
Then there are the people that refuse all of those options.
"Gran Canaria traffic control, this is Lloyd Black. I'm on my way, give me a vector." Lloyd's Lhotse assault fighter, repainted in a similar red and black scheme to the Colonial Nyx, burned a path through the Barrier outcropping on a direct course for the planet. In its hold were crates full of weapons. Briefly, he thought back to his time with the Cartographers, and understood why they made their choice.
"Lloyd, this is Gran Canaria control, I'm sending the landing vectors now. Be careful," the young man at the spaceport replied. Lloyd was lucky enough to arrive during a lull in the spaceborne combat, which made his approach easier.
His arrival at the Spaceport got off to an unpleasant start, as he was accosted by a pair of Corsairs that objected to his cargo, one approaching from the front and the other from behind.
"Hey, we're under martial law. You can't bring these here."
"This isn't your city. Piss off." The Corsair behind him grabbed his right arm, which quickly proved to be a mistake. Lloyd jerked his arm forward, jabbed the pirate in the gut with his left hand, and flipped him over his shoulder before the second could react. The grounded pirate quickly found Lloyd's boot on his throat and a heavy pistol pointed at his head. "I believe I said this isn't your city," the Zoner repeated, levelling an icy glare at the standing pirate. "Now, let me be perfectly clear what I think about your 'martial law': You will let me pass with my guns. And when the Azul Lux arrives with a much larger shipment, you will permit their shuttles to pass. Or I will kill you, I will kill this dumb bastard, and I will kill every other Corsair in my way."
"So you're siding with the Coalition," the un-flipped pirate spat.
"No. I'm siding with the Zoners, and I'm cleaning up this damn planet. Now are you letting me through, or are you planning your friend's funeral?"
"Tch... fine. But we'll remember this."
"That's the idea, pirate." Lloyd reholstered his pistol and let the downed Cretan leave before moving his personal hover out of the ship's hold. It was quite a popular model, thanks to its expansive cargo hold for an atmospheric craft; planetary industrial facilities often used them, as did larger stations.
After ensuring there were no tracking devices hidden on his vehicle while he wasn't watching, he loaded it up and took off.
His destination was a bunker, situated in the hills to the north of the primary spaceport. An old fallback position that had, strangely, been completely forgotten in this chaos. When he arrived, he found three dozen Zoners, one in particular he recognized as ex-BIS.
"Henry, glad you're here," Lloyd said to the former intelligence agent. The middle-aged man nodded curtly, looking over the rest of the present Zoners with Lloyd. Most of them were in good shape at least. "I am Lloyd Black, and this is Henry Fairfax. Those of you present want to put an end to this war. Welcome to the Zoner Response Force." Murmurs broke out among the crowd, which Henry silenced by clearing his throat audibly. "Yes, thank you. We don't have much time. I managed to... persuade Ageira to part with some military-grade rifles, flashbangs, and heavy pistols. More guns and armor are on the way. Tonight, we're running you through drills. First, Henry will run physical evaluations, then we will both drill you in the usage of firearms. Move out!"
Surprisingly for such a diverse group, the newly-minted ZRF had no trouble following orders, and their endurance was more than up to snuff. Their four-kilometer run time was a bit poor, but their steady pace gave Fairfax some hope that they'd improve.
Their marksmanship varied widely, however, and that would be a problem for their operations. In the middle of testing, a beep came from Lloyd's earpiece inside the soundproof headphones. He stepped away, took off his headphones, and pushed a button. "Lloyd, go."
"Hey, it's Evan. I'm on my way."
"Good. Sending the coordinates now."
A pause. "Coordinates received. The shuttles are preparing, we'll launch shortly. Anything to watch for?"
"If anyone tries to stop you from moving those guns, kill them. I know it sounds extreme, but we need to establish who is in control of Gran Canaria." As he returned to the makeshift range, Henry approached.
"We've got one potential sniper, Lloyd. Too early to tell, but he looks promising, and under the circumstances it's the best we'll get. Four more potential marksmen. Most of the rest are adequate, but I think Anderson will serve better as... anything without a gun, frankly. Hopefully the boy is good at something. Grey and Colms informed me that they have extensive counter-boarder training from BMM, which may serve us well should the battle go indoors."
"Or for future issues."
"Exactly. Now, was that your brother?"
"Yes. The Azul Lux is enroute. He sent me the manifest, it's... not quite as uniform as I'd hoped, but we'll make it work," Lloyd sighed, handing his datapad to Henry.
"... hmm... yes, I can make this work. The rifles are mostly comparable, and I'm familiar with most of them. The shotguns will be handy, and- grenade launchers? Rocket launchers?! This is- yes, we can definitely work with this. I like this man already, Lloyd."
"He always was the resourceful one, probably has some Maltese contacts up at Freeport 10. He's got ex-Navy and ex-pirates on his ship, they can help with the drills."
"Understood. Now, I don't believe I've tested you yet..."
"Let's wait for Evan, we'll have Slate watch over the new recruits then."
Then there are the people that refuse all of those options.
"Gran Canaria traffic control, this is Lloyd Black. I'm on my way, give me a vector." Lloyd's Lhotse assault fighter, repainted in a similar red and black scheme to the Colonial Nyx, burned a path through the Barrier outcropping on a direct course for the planet. In its hold were crates full of weapons. Briefly, he thought back to his time with the Cartographers, and understood why they made their choice.
"Lloyd, this is Gran Canaria control, I'm sending the landing vectors now. Be careful," the young man at the spaceport replied. Lloyd was lucky enough to arrive during a lull in the spaceborne combat, which made his approach easier.
His arrival at the Spaceport got off to an unpleasant start, as he was accosted by a pair of Corsairs that objected to his cargo, one approaching from the front and the other from behind.
"Hey, we're under martial law. You can't bring these here."
"This isn't your city. Piss off." The Corsair behind him grabbed his right arm, which quickly proved to be a mistake. Lloyd jerked his arm forward, jabbed the pirate in the gut with his left hand, and flipped him over his shoulder before the second could react. The grounded pirate quickly found Lloyd's boot on his throat and a heavy pistol pointed at his head. "I believe I said this isn't your city," the Zoner repeated, levelling an icy glare at the standing pirate. "Now, let me be perfectly clear what I think about your 'martial law': You will let me pass with my guns. And when the Azul Lux arrives with a much larger shipment, you will permit their shuttles to pass. Or I will kill you, I will kill this dumb bastard, and I will kill every other Corsair in my way."
"So you're siding with the Coalition," the un-flipped pirate spat.
"No. I'm siding with the Zoners, and I'm cleaning up this damn planet. Now are you letting me through, or are you planning your friend's funeral?"
"Tch... fine. But we'll remember this."
"That's the idea, pirate." Lloyd reholstered his pistol and let the downed Cretan leave before moving his personal hover out of the ship's hold. It was quite a popular model, thanks to its expansive cargo hold for an atmospheric craft; planetary industrial facilities often used them, as did larger stations.
After ensuring there were no tracking devices hidden on his vehicle while he wasn't watching, he loaded it up and took off.
His destination was a bunker, situated in the hills to the north of the primary spaceport. An old fallback position that had, strangely, been completely forgotten in this chaos. When he arrived, he found three dozen Zoners, one in particular he recognized as ex-BIS.
"Henry, glad you're here," Lloyd said to the former intelligence agent. The middle-aged man nodded curtly, looking over the rest of the present Zoners with Lloyd. Most of them were in good shape at least. "I am Lloyd Black, and this is Henry Fairfax. Those of you present want to put an end to this war. Welcome to the Zoner Response Force." Murmurs broke out among the crowd, which Henry silenced by clearing his throat audibly. "Yes, thank you. We don't have much time. I managed to... persuade Ageira to part with some military-grade rifles, flashbangs, and heavy pistols. More guns and armor are on the way. Tonight, we're running you through drills. First, Henry will run physical evaluations, then we will both drill you in the usage of firearms. Move out!"
Surprisingly for such a diverse group, the newly-minted ZRF had no trouble following orders, and their endurance was more than up to snuff. Their four-kilometer run time was a bit poor, but their steady pace gave Fairfax some hope that they'd improve.
Their marksmanship varied widely, however, and that would be a problem for their operations. In the middle of testing, a beep came from Lloyd's earpiece inside the soundproof headphones. He stepped away, took off his headphones, and pushed a button. "Lloyd, go."
"Hey, it's Evan. I'm on my way."
"Good. Sending the coordinates now."
A pause. "Coordinates received. The shuttles are preparing, we'll launch shortly. Anything to watch for?"
"If anyone tries to stop you from moving those guns, kill them. I know it sounds extreme, but we need to establish who is in control of Gran Canaria." As he returned to the makeshift range, Henry approached.
"We've got one potential sniper, Lloyd. Too early to tell, but he looks promising, and under the circumstances it's the best we'll get. Four more potential marksmen. Most of the rest are adequate, but I think Anderson will serve better as... anything without a gun, frankly. Hopefully the boy is good at something. Grey and Colms informed me that they have extensive counter-boarder training from BMM, which may serve us well should the battle go indoors."
"Or for future issues."
"Exactly. Now, was that your brother?"
"Yes. The Azul Lux is enroute. He sent me the manifest, it's... not quite as uniform as I'd hoped, but we'll make it work," Lloyd sighed, handing his datapad to Henry.
"... hmm... yes, I can make this work. The rifles are mostly comparable, and I'm familiar with most of them. The shotguns will be handy, and- grenade launchers? Rocket launchers?! This is- yes, we can definitely work with this. I like this man already, Lloyd."
"He always was the resourceful one, probably has some Maltese contacts up at Freeport 10. He's got ex-Navy and ex-pirates on his ship, they can help with the drills."
"Understood. Now, I don't believe I've tested you yet..."
"Let's wait for Evan, we'll have Slate watch over the new recruits then."