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12-12-2007, 02:38 AM
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12-31-2007, 09:42 PM
A Kusari expatriate turned bounty hunter calling himself "Mark" should have been quite pleased with himself. He'd been in fighters ever since he'd escaped his overbearing, workaholic Samura parents (who he still suspected had ties to the Hogosha). Taking small bounties here and there, and turning pirate pilots in at various prison stations, he'd worked his way up to a very heavy fighter over the course of barely a year. Though a romantic and idealistic to a fault, he'd made some friends among a small band of Outcasts shortly after leaving his parents. While he was no longer in regular contact with them, he retained a somewhat un-hunterlike focus on Corsairs.
Things had really taken an upturn when a tolerably wealthy Zoner had taken a liking to him, and decided to (conditionally) sponsor his purchase of a small, old, cheap BHG gunship. It was an old, obsolete model; but it was a gunship, and "Mark" couldn't be happier. Except for one thing: the woman he'd purchased it from had said it came with a crew, but there was nobody aboard, and no sign of anybody having ever been aboard. The bounty hunter had tried a few low-end AI systems...all dismal disappointments. Unable to use his new ship to its full potential without a second crew member, he'd decided to fly back to Liberty, where he'd bought the ship, in an effort to find the missing person - or somebody among his friendly contacts that might be willing to take the job.
However, Mark had been on Planet Pittsburgh for just a few hours when things began to go wrong. It started with an innocuous-sounding knock on the door of the cheap hotel room he'd rented for the week. With a sigh, he put down the datapad he'd been reading - still searching for the unnamed missing crewmember - and went to answer it. Dodging the stray rodents that'd come with the room, he unlatched the door.
Opening it just a crack revealed a severe-looking man wearing an LPI uniform. Mark's expression brightened immediately; maybe they've got some paying work for me! Wouldn't hurt to have a bit more dough to offer a potential copilot. "Please come in, come in." With a surprised nod, the LPI officer did so...but his sidearm's holster was conspicuously unbuttoned, allowing him to draw it quickly. He declined to take a seat, instead choosing to stand near the door.
"I am Lieutenant Scott Wilson of LPI; you are Mark Beran, correct?"
"Yes sir, that's right. Do you have some work for me?"
"Umm...no. Would it be correct to say that you had a clandestine meeting with a member of the TAZ, resulting in the transfer of some twenty million credits to your account?"
"Err...yes, yes I did. Very generous, don't you think?" Alarm bells were starting to go off in Mark's head, though he didn't know what he'd done that could attract unwanted attention.
The officer's eyes narrowed accusingly. "Yes....very generous. Under what conditions was the money given to you?"
"I was supposed to escort some TAZ vessels for cheap, and return to the bar to swap some stories. That's all. Dunno if you've ever heard of them, but they're sort of an odd bunch."
"Riiight...to protect them from the Liberty authorities while they help terrorists kill civilians, is that it?"
"WHAT?! No! What the hell're you talking about?" Mark's stomach descended to an invisible point somewhere close to his thighs while he waited for this very serious-looking man to tell him it was a joke.
He didn't. Instead, the officer stepped aside, revealing two more armed LPI officers just outside the door. "I'd suggest you tell me what you know about the TAZ and the Phantoms, son, and I suggest you make it quick."
Starting to panic, Mark's stomach completed its figurative descent to his angles, and his breathing became rapid and shallow. "How could you even think that? I'm a bounty hunter!"
"Book him for interrogation."
"No! It's a misunderstanding, I didn't-"
"Then you've got nothing to fear, right? Just come along, and we'll get this 'misunderstanding' cleared right up." The man's menacing tone didn't help matters, however. It didn't take long for him and his buddies to cuff the shocked adventurer and start hauling him to an armored transport sitting on the pad.
"Oh my God, this isn't happening...this isn't happening..." He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, and to think. Freaking out isn't gonna do any good. Cool it. Assess the situation. Evaluate your options. Right. Information. Can you at least tell me what's going on?"
"Several witnesses in the LSF say a TAZ vessel passed repair bots and shield batteries to a Phantom in the middle of a pitched battle. All TAZ vessels, be they freighters or warships, are now kill-on-sight. And that makes your situation highly suspect."
The whole way to the transport, Mark tried to think of something, anything…but all he could come up with was “Can I at least get my neural net account data, so I can post bail? I just got here a few hours ago, it's still onboard my ship.”
The officers looked at each other, and finally nodded. “Just be aware that we’ve got a siege cruiser in orbit above the planet, so don’t try to escape. And if you take more than ten minutes, we’re going in with the stun gas. Understood?”
“Yeah.”
They followed him all the way to the landing pad upon which his craft sat…it didn’t do anything to ease his nerves when he noticed several of the defense turrets on the nearby armored transport turning to face his ship. Mark was thinking furiously as he boarded the little thing, trying to figure out some way to change the situation and coming up blank.
As it turned out, the situation changed itself.
“Time to die, y-what the hell?! Who’re you?” Mark whirled to face the voice, ready to fight…until he saw the person in question. A gaunt-faced girl, obviously of Kusari descent and a bit shorter than he, but pointing a sizeable weapon at his chest to make up for her lack of stature. Mark didn’t know exactly what the weapon was, but it looked dangerous enough to give him pause. She might've been pretty, had it not been for the grease-stained jumpsuit that was anything but flattering to what little figure she likely possessed, and the fact that it looked like she hadn't seen the inside of a shower in days.
“I…I own this ship. Bought ‘er last week.”
“A likely story…” She edged closer, while keeping far enough away that it’d be pretty hard for him to reach out and grab her weapon. "And who'd you buy her from?"
With a sigh born almost as much out of exasperation as out of fear, Mark stumbled back into a bulkhead. “I dunno, some washed-up merc. All I thought I needed to know was that he had a ship I could use, and it was cheap. Look, wanna take this outside? I’m sure the three LPI officers waiting to take me in’ll be curious about what you're doing in here with a gun.”
That got her attention; her eyebrows furrowed, though her gun’s muzzle didn’t move. “LPI, eh? What do they want with you?”
“They think I accepted a loan from a Phantom sympathizer. They’re full of garbage, of course, but you know how they are when it comes to Phantoms…”
She scowled – not a pretty expression – and considered her options in pregnant silence. Mark did the same, of course. Damn! Why don’t I have a few sidearms stashed somewhere on board? I could throw something at her to mess up her aim…if there was anything on hand to throw. Crap. Before Mark could consider any more reckless ideas, the girl nodded. “Alright, if this is your ship, get us into space.”
“I would, but there’s a Liberty cruiser sitting in orbit waiting for me to be stupid. Not to mention an armored transport a hundred feet away.”
“The only way you could be stupid right now, mister, is by not doing exactly what I say. I have a gun that can blow you near in two, and I have nothing to lose. I’d rather not kill you, but don’t think for a second I won’t if I have to.”
There was no mistaking the desperation in her face, and in her voice. She was serious as a core leak. “Fine. We’ll BOTH just go and get blown up then, eh?”
“Just go for the debris field.”
“If they don’t space us first…”
“Scanned it on the way in - she's not armed for taking down a ship this small. Siege cruisers are battleship killers, and that puny transport could only hurt this gunship if it sat on it. Now siddown, shaddup, an’ take off!”
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” With the girl close behind, Mark went to the bridge – just a few steps away. “But I know I’m gonna regret this, if I live long en-OW! Was that REALLY necessary?!”
“I’ll knock you upside the head again if you don’t take off now, before those LPI officers outside start getting suspicious.”
“Oh, so now you belie-“ He cut himself off when he saw the butt of her rifle coming towards him again. “Okay okay! Shutting up!” Great. Should’ve kept the Manta…not enough room on that thing for someone to sneak aboard… The adventurer had no way of knowing that his life would never be quite the same when he decided to do as she said, fire up the engines, and boost out of the atmosphere…
Things had really taken an upturn when a tolerably wealthy Zoner had taken a liking to him, and decided to (conditionally) sponsor his purchase of a small, old, cheap BHG gunship. It was an old, obsolete model; but it was a gunship, and "Mark" couldn't be happier. Except for one thing: the woman he'd purchased it from had said it came with a crew, but there was nobody aboard, and no sign of anybody having ever been aboard. The bounty hunter had tried a few low-end AI systems...all dismal disappointments. Unable to use his new ship to its full potential without a second crew member, he'd decided to fly back to Liberty, where he'd bought the ship, in an effort to find the missing person - or somebody among his friendly contacts that might be willing to take the job.
However, Mark had been on Planet Pittsburgh for just a few hours when things began to go wrong. It started with an innocuous-sounding knock on the door of the cheap hotel room he'd rented for the week. With a sigh, he put down the datapad he'd been reading - still searching for the unnamed missing crewmember - and went to answer it. Dodging the stray rodents that'd come with the room, he unlatched the door.
Opening it just a crack revealed a severe-looking man wearing an LPI uniform. Mark's expression brightened immediately; maybe they've got some paying work for me! Wouldn't hurt to have a bit more dough to offer a potential copilot. "Please come in, come in." With a surprised nod, the LPI officer did so...but his sidearm's holster was conspicuously unbuttoned, allowing him to draw it quickly. He declined to take a seat, instead choosing to stand near the door.
"I am Lieutenant Scott Wilson of LPI; you are Mark Beran, correct?"
"Yes sir, that's right. Do you have some work for me?"
"Umm...no. Would it be correct to say that you had a clandestine meeting with a member of the TAZ, resulting in the transfer of some twenty million credits to your account?"
"Err...yes, yes I did. Very generous, don't you think?" Alarm bells were starting to go off in Mark's head, though he didn't know what he'd done that could attract unwanted attention.
The officer's eyes narrowed accusingly. "Yes....very generous. Under what conditions was the money given to you?"
"I was supposed to escort some TAZ vessels for cheap, and return to the bar to swap some stories. That's all. Dunno if you've ever heard of them, but they're sort of an odd bunch."
"Riiight...to protect them from the Liberty authorities while they help terrorists kill civilians, is that it?"
"WHAT?! No! What the hell're you talking about?" Mark's stomach descended to an invisible point somewhere close to his thighs while he waited for this very serious-looking man to tell him it was a joke.
He didn't. Instead, the officer stepped aside, revealing two more armed LPI officers just outside the door. "I'd suggest you tell me what you know about the TAZ and the Phantoms, son, and I suggest you make it quick."
Starting to panic, Mark's stomach completed its figurative descent to his angles, and his breathing became rapid and shallow. "How could you even think that? I'm a bounty hunter!"
"Book him for interrogation."
"No! It's a misunderstanding, I didn't-"
"Then you've got nothing to fear, right? Just come along, and we'll get this 'misunderstanding' cleared right up." The man's menacing tone didn't help matters, however. It didn't take long for him and his buddies to cuff the shocked adventurer and start hauling him to an armored transport sitting on the pad.
"Oh my God, this isn't happening...this isn't happening..." He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, and to think. Freaking out isn't gonna do any good. Cool it. Assess the situation. Evaluate your options. Right. Information. Can you at least tell me what's going on?"
"Several witnesses in the LSF say a TAZ vessel passed repair bots and shield batteries to a Phantom in the middle of a pitched battle. All TAZ vessels, be they freighters or warships, are now kill-on-sight. And that makes your situation highly suspect."
The whole way to the transport, Mark tried to think of something, anything…but all he could come up with was “Can I at least get my neural net account data, so I can post bail? I just got here a few hours ago, it's still onboard my ship.”
The officers looked at each other, and finally nodded. “Just be aware that we’ve got a siege cruiser in orbit above the planet, so don’t try to escape. And if you take more than ten minutes, we’re going in with the stun gas. Understood?”
“Yeah.”
They followed him all the way to the landing pad upon which his craft sat…it didn’t do anything to ease his nerves when he noticed several of the defense turrets on the nearby armored transport turning to face his ship. Mark was thinking furiously as he boarded the little thing, trying to figure out some way to change the situation and coming up blank.
As it turned out, the situation changed itself.
“Time to die, y-what the hell?! Who’re you?” Mark whirled to face the voice, ready to fight…until he saw the person in question. A gaunt-faced girl, obviously of Kusari descent and a bit shorter than he, but pointing a sizeable weapon at his chest to make up for her lack of stature. Mark didn’t know exactly what the weapon was, but it looked dangerous enough to give him pause. She might've been pretty, had it not been for the grease-stained jumpsuit that was anything but flattering to what little figure she likely possessed, and the fact that it looked like she hadn't seen the inside of a shower in days.
“I…I own this ship. Bought ‘er last week.”
“A likely story…” She edged closer, while keeping far enough away that it’d be pretty hard for him to reach out and grab her weapon. "And who'd you buy her from?"
With a sigh born almost as much out of exasperation as out of fear, Mark stumbled back into a bulkhead. “I dunno, some washed-up merc. All I thought I needed to know was that he had a ship I could use, and it was cheap. Look, wanna take this outside? I’m sure the three LPI officers waiting to take me in’ll be curious about what you're doing in here with a gun.”
That got her attention; her eyebrows furrowed, though her gun’s muzzle didn’t move. “LPI, eh? What do they want with you?”
“They think I accepted a loan from a Phantom sympathizer. They’re full of garbage, of course, but you know how they are when it comes to Phantoms…”
She scowled – not a pretty expression – and considered her options in pregnant silence. Mark did the same, of course. Damn! Why don’t I have a few sidearms stashed somewhere on board? I could throw something at her to mess up her aim…if there was anything on hand to throw. Crap. Before Mark could consider any more reckless ideas, the girl nodded. “Alright, if this is your ship, get us into space.”
“I would, but there’s a Liberty cruiser sitting in orbit waiting for me to be stupid. Not to mention an armored transport a hundred feet away.”
“The only way you could be stupid right now, mister, is by not doing exactly what I say. I have a gun that can blow you near in two, and I have nothing to lose. I’d rather not kill you, but don’t think for a second I won’t if I have to.”
There was no mistaking the desperation in her face, and in her voice. She was serious as a core leak. “Fine. We’ll BOTH just go and get blown up then, eh?”
“Just go for the debris field.”
“If they don’t space us first…”
“Scanned it on the way in - she's not armed for taking down a ship this small. Siege cruisers are battleship killers, and that puny transport could only hurt this gunship if it sat on it. Now siddown, shaddup, an’ take off!”
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” With the girl close behind, Mark went to the bridge – just a few steps away. “But I know I’m gonna regret this, if I live long en-OW! Was that REALLY necessary?!”
“I’ll knock you upside the head again if you don’t take off now, before those LPI officers outside start getting suspicious.”
“Oh, so now you belie-“ He cut himself off when he saw the butt of her rifle coming towards him again. “Okay okay! Shutting up!” Great. Should’ve kept the Manta…not enough room on that thing for someone to sneak aboard… The adventurer had no way of knowing that his life would never be quite the same when he decided to do as she said, fire up the engines, and boost out of the atmosphere…
01-11-2008, 04:59 PM
Quote:Entry #4
Freeport 11, Omicron Delta
Well...things have settled down a little. Sorta. The girl who hijacked my ship still hasn't told me her name, but at least she's being nicer now that I managed to knock her unconscious and steal her weapon. I dunno, it's weird...you'd think that, after that, she'd attack me and try to get her gun back and get back in control. But she hasn't done that. It's almost as if, by fighting back, I've earned her respect. She's starting to act more like a crewmember and less like a hijacker or hostage.
Yesterday, she showed me how to fix the slow air leak in the aft cargo bay without using any of my precious hull sealant. And then she helped me fix the squeaky #2 turret after we docked at the Freeport. AND she even came with me to the Freeport's cafe to get some Canarian coffee! Imagine that. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was even becoming friendly. But I do know better. She agreed to come with me, but the whole way to the cafe and back she had that "animal in a cage" look about her, as if she was having to constantly suppress the urge to flee.
While we were sitting at the cafe, trying (and failing) to make some small talk, I heard something very welcome over the news channel: the TAZ has been cleared of the charge of cooperating with the Phantoms! That's wonderful, because it means I'm no longer a wanted man. I may still face some penalties for fleeing, but maybe not, since I was kinda under duress at the time.
Anyway, I hear the LSF is offering a 2 million credit bounty for each Rogue or Hacker ship destroyed for the next few days, so we'll be headed back to Liberty pretty soon...far from any Samura bases. If you still haven't figured out why, ask. I'll be happy to explain.
But of course, they won't ask. That's not what they do. Instead, they'll hire a private investigator or something. And I'll get even more blunt in my messages when I catch wind of somebody tailing me. And they'll send another. And so on. He sighed as he hit the send button. Eventually, I'll probably have to tell them off in person. THAT will be fun...
"Ready to go?" the girl asked.
Mark shut his personal log, and nodded. "Yeah. You got the docking clearance?"
"Yep. Got us a mission against the Corsairs, too, on the way out."
"Good. Thanks - let's ditch this joint." The girl sealed the airlock and released the docking clamps while Mark fired the thrusters, edging the ship out of her berth. Once clear of the station, he engaged the cruise engines and leaned back. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the girl sat down in the copilot's chair, fiddling with the sensors as they approached the mission waypoint.
It went well for a few minutes; the first trio of Titans fell quickly to the gunship's turrets. But all too soon, the unnamed girl let out a cry of alarm. "Brotherhood gunboat, 7k and closing fast!"
"7k?! How the hell'd he get that close?"
"Came through the Kappa jump hole. Punch it!"
Mark stowed the turrets and engaged the cruise engines as the girl jammed her fingers down on the countermeasure trigger. Bolts of destructive energy flashed around the gunship, including the telltale green of Cerberus turrets. "Do we have any Corsairs in our hold?"
She checked. "Two."
"Drop 'em. Maybe he'll break off." The hope of that didn't keep him from jinking for all he was worth, though. There was a metallic clunk as the two escape pods were jettisoned...the enemy gunboat picked them up, and resumed pursuit. "Damn..."
"What now?"
"We make for the Minor jump hole, and pray there's no Order awake right now."
The comms were silent as the two ships played their dangerous game of cat and mouse; Mark reached the jump hole well ahead of the gunboat, but somehow exited not far ahead of it. "Go go go!" He didn't have to be told twice. About halfway through Minor, the Corsair finally gave up the chase...but Mark kept running, all the way into Alaska.
"So...what now?"
He removed his hands from the controls so the girl couldn't tell they were shaking. "We run far, far from the prison stations and pray the Navy doesn't catch us in here. Out of the fire and into the oven, or something."
01-11-2008, 11:28 PM
Twice over the next few hours, a navy fighter came just within scanning range. Katashi was able to guess direction correctly both times and alter course to avoid them, but that didn't make the experience any less nerve-wracking. Almost reminds me of those old stories about ghost ships, drifting in the fog at sea...this blue nebula could almost pass for one, with rocks for islands. Yeah...we're nothin' but a ghost ship. The thought didn't calm him quite as much as he'd hoped, and he turned his attention back to his console.
"My name is Ren. What's yours?" The girl's voice cut the silence like a club to the head.
She'd spoken quietly, of course, but after hours of tense near-silence, her voice and brusque tone felt a bit jarring. That's one way to break the ice, after having flown together for a few days of "Hey you!" "That's your name?"
"Yeah. It's a perfectly good Kusari name. Means 'lotus', or 'love'. Don't get any ideas now. And don't tell me 'Mark' is your real name, either. We both know better."
"But-"
"No 'but's. I told you my name, now you tell me yours...you're obviously Kusari-born."
Guess if we're gonna be fugitives together, might as well. "...Katashi."
"Another perfectly good Kusari name. 'Firm.' Why not use it?"
"Oh, c'mon. Can't you see? Besides the fact that it shortens to 'Kat', there's the obvious puns..."
Her eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and for the first time since boarding his ship, she burst out in genuine laughter. Once she got a hold of herself, she continued down the obvious line of questioning. "Where you from, anyway?"
"Eh...all over. Parents are mid-level Samura execs, so they got around. Our home was a little bungalow on the coast of New Tokyo, though we weren't there half the time."
Ren leaned forward, confusion apparent in her expression. "So, what're you doing here, doing this? You must've had the red carpet all laid out for you."
"Heh. Not quite - I said mid-level, remember? But I would've done okay. It's what they wanted, you know. But all I remember are all the boardroom politics, cocktail party backstabbing, petty hatred...didn't wanna be a part of that scene."
She quirked an eyebrow up in a way Katashi found rather adorable. "So, for the betterment of humanity, you now kill people for money?"
"Well, er, not quite as simple as that," the flustered pilot stuttered. "I mostly just chase 'em down and turn 'em in." Mostly. "So I took the Starflyer they gave me and left. I slowly worked my way up from that to a Manta heavy fighter, then I found a sponsor of sorts that helped pay for this bird. I got it from an ex-Bowex pilot-" Ren's eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed in a way that would've been almost comical, had it not been for the stormy expression her face finally settled on. "Something wrong?"
"I'd rather not talk about it. Just reminded me of something," she insisted. Katashi left it at that, and so did she. They finally escaped Alaska a few more hours later, with little else said.
"My name is Ren. What's yours?" The girl's voice cut the silence like a club to the head.
She'd spoken quietly, of course, but after hours of tense near-silence, her voice and brusque tone felt a bit jarring. That's one way to break the ice, after having flown together for a few days of "Hey you!" "That's your name?"
"Yeah. It's a perfectly good Kusari name. Means 'lotus', or 'love'. Don't get any ideas now. And don't tell me 'Mark' is your real name, either. We both know better."
"But-"
"No 'but's. I told you my name, now you tell me yours...you're obviously Kusari-born."
Guess if we're gonna be fugitives together, might as well. "...Katashi."
"Another perfectly good Kusari name. 'Firm.' Why not use it?"
"Oh, c'mon. Can't you see? Besides the fact that it shortens to 'Kat', there's the obvious puns..."
Her eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and for the first time since boarding his ship, she burst out in genuine laughter. Once she got a hold of herself, she continued down the obvious line of questioning. "Where you from, anyway?"
"Eh...all over. Parents are mid-level Samura execs, so they got around. Our home was a little bungalow on the coast of New Tokyo, though we weren't there half the time."
Ren leaned forward, confusion apparent in her expression. "So, what're you doing here, doing this? You must've had the red carpet all laid out for you."
"Heh. Not quite - I said mid-level, remember? But I would've done okay. It's what they wanted, you know. But all I remember are all the boardroom politics, cocktail party backstabbing, petty hatred...didn't wanna be a part of that scene."
She quirked an eyebrow up in a way Katashi found rather adorable. "So, for the betterment of humanity, you now kill people for money?"
"Well, er, not quite as simple as that," the flustered pilot stuttered. "I mostly just chase 'em down and turn 'em in." Mostly. "So I took the Starflyer they gave me and left. I slowly worked my way up from that to a Manta heavy fighter, then I found a sponsor of sorts that helped pay for this bird. I got it from an ex-Bowex pilot-" Ren's eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed in a way that would've been almost comical, had it not been for the stormy expression her face finally settled on. "Something wrong?"
"I'd rather not talk about it. Just reminded me of something," she insisted. Katashi left it at that, and so did she. They finally escaped Alaska a few more hours later, with little else said.
01-18-2008, 03:38 AM
Another loooong trip from Omega-15 to Fairbanks Prison in Alaska with a hold full of rowdy Corsairs. Well, at least Ren's gotten more personable. When her sleep isn't interrupted, that is. He looked up, across the GBH-1's sole, tiny cabin. Only about eight feet across, just wide enough for a bunk on one side, and two chairs on the other with a table that folded out of the wall. And a teeny microwave and fridge built into the bulkhead, and a shower that barely had enough space to stand up in. It didn't even include the head; that was next to the bridge, and equally tiny.
She looks so nice and peaceful when she's sleeping...too bad she won't share the bunk, heheh. Well, she's been warming up a bit lately. Still don't know squat about her, though. Hell, I don't even know where she was born... Katashi's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bruised but very angry Corsair rushing towards him up the short corridor that led to the hold. "No! BAD Corsair! No taking over the ship!" Kat hurriedly picked up his chair and threw it down the narrow corridor at the attacking pirate...both landed in a heap, and hadn't yet managed to get up when the freelancer grabbed the Corsair's head and rammed it against the floor. Again, again, and again, until the body stopped moving. "There. Much better."
"Agamemnon, this is Bounty Hunter patrol Bronze 3. What's your status, over?"
Crap! The comm was on?!
Ren was stirring; ironically, in spite of her often fiery disposition, she was typically slow to wake. "Be quiet, will you? Need to sleep..."
"Uh...yeah, you got it." He rushed forward to the bridge, and picked up the mic. "Fine, just had a little problem with a Corsair breaking out of the cargo hold. They're kinda reluctant to go to Liberty's prisons."
"Roger that. Can't say that I blame them." Katashi took some time to respond, because he was busy dragging the unconscious Corsair back into the hold. By the time he got back, Ren was up and had to be told what'd happened. Predictably, she was not pleased.
"We need a ship with a more secure hold."
"And more space for us, too. Don't worry, I've got a little something in the works. Y'see, I've made some friends in my travels. Some of those friends look out for me, lemme know if they happen to notice something. And one of these friends has noticed that the GMG is retiring most of its fleet of exploration ships. They aren't very agile, but they've got good long-term accomodations, secure holds, a kickin' sensor suite, and they're armed and armored like gunboats."
Ren narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were a hunter."
"No, I'm a freelancer. I'm through with hunting for awhile; I wanna explore some, relax a bit. Maybe I'll get an Orca sometime and get back to hunting, but if it's alright with you, this is what I want to do."
She put a hand on one hip. "If it's alright with me?" she mimicked.
"Yeah, you. You're more than crew, I consider you my partner. So if it's not cool with you, I won't buy the Explorer. 'Kay?"
"You're not joking?"
"C'mon. After what happened the last time? Don't think so."
"I want you to be true to yourself, Kat. Is this really what you want?"
There was something else behind her words, though he couldn't quite figure out what. So, after a bit of wondering just how what he was about to say would get him screwed - and not in the good way - he went ahead and said it. "Yep. It's what I've always wanted to do."
"Good. I can't wait to have a decent cabin!" And, in the most surprising move since she first laughed, she gave him a hug. It was as short and violent as most of what she did was, but it was a hug nonetheless. "So, when do we get to pick it up?"
Kat grinned. "How about...now?"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I'll change course and we'll head to Honshu."
"Do it!"
She looks so nice and peaceful when she's sleeping...too bad she won't share the bunk, heheh. Well, she's been warming up a bit lately. Still don't know squat about her, though. Hell, I don't even know where she was born... Katashi's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bruised but very angry Corsair rushing towards him up the short corridor that led to the hold. "No! BAD Corsair! No taking over the ship!" Kat hurriedly picked up his chair and threw it down the narrow corridor at the attacking pirate...both landed in a heap, and hadn't yet managed to get up when the freelancer grabbed the Corsair's head and rammed it against the floor. Again, again, and again, until the body stopped moving. "There. Much better."
"Agamemnon, this is Bounty Hunter patrol Bronze 3. What's your status, over?"
Crap! The comm was on?!
Ren was stirring; ironically, in spite of her often fiery disposition, she was typically slow to wake. "Be quiet, will you? Need to sleep..."
"Uh...yeah, you got it." He rushed forward to the bridge, and picked up the mic. "Fine, just had a little problem with a Corsair breaking out of the cargo hold. They're kinda reluctant to go to Liberty's prisons."
"Roger that. Can't say that I blame them." Katashi took some time to respond, because he was busy dragging the unconscious Corsair back into the hold. By the time he got back, Ren was up and had to be told what'd happened. Predictably, she was not pleased.
"We need a ship with a more secure hold."
"And more space for us, too. Don't worry, I've got a little something in the works. Y'see, I've made some friends in my travels. Some of those friends look out for me, lemme know if they happen to notice something. And one of these friends has noticed that the GMG is retiring most of its fleet of exploration ships. They aren't very agile, but they've got good long-term accomodations, secure holds, a kickin' sensor suite, and they're armed and armored like gunboats."
Ren narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were a hunter."
"No, I'm a freelancer. I'm through with hunting for awhile; I wanna explore some, relax a bit. Maybe I'll get an Orca sometime and get back to hunting, but if it's alright with you, this is what I want to do."
She put a hand on one hip. "If it's alright with me?" she mimicked.
"Yeah, you. You're more than crew, I consider you my partner. So if it's not cool with you, I won't buy the Explorer. 'Kay?"
"You're not joking?"
"C'mon. After what happened the last time? Don't think so."
"I want you to be true to yourself, Kat. Is this really what you want?"
There was something else behind her words, though he couldn't quite figure out what. So, after a bit of wondering just how what he was about to say would get him screwed - and not in the good way - he went ahead and said it. "Yep. It's what I've always wanted to do."
"Good. I can't wait to have a decent cabin!" And, in the most surprising move since she first laughed, she gave him a hug. It was as short and violent as most of what she did was, but it was a hug nonetheless. "So, when do we get to pick it up?"
Kat grinned. "How about...now?"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I'll change course and we'll head to Honshu."
"Do it!"
01-19-2008, 04:47 AM
Unfortunately, the Explorer was, while roomy, somewhat less capable than Katashi had been led to believe. It had seven turrets, true, and decent armor...but turned horribly. Ren summed it up nicely. "The damn thing turns worse than a cruiser!" Kat couldn't deny the truth of that, but he didn't really think it would matter. They had the firepower and armor, surely a little less agility wouldn't be too terrible...
But after an engagement over Planet Kyushu, Katashi began to have doubts. An IMG gunboat, an advanced train, and his Explorer vs. an IMG GB and a Corsair GB. Mere moments later, he'd had to return to the planet's surface, leaking all kinds of nasty chemicals into the atmosphere from the vessel's critically damaged hull. For the first time, Ren looked scared; and Kat had to admit that he was, too.
After crash-landing, they both stumbled away from the wreck, shaking. After a few minutes, they put their blood and grease-stained arms slowly around each other, and just stared at it. It didn't take a mind reader to tell that they were both thinking about how close that had been, closer than any of their previous encounters. All because the ship they'd chosen due to how comfortable it was just happened to also be a big, fat, target.
After awhile - neither of them were quite sure exactly how long - they finally got up the courage to re-enter the ship, and found that someone had been trying to contact them. Reluctantly, Ren patched it through at Katashi's insistence. A rugged-looking man with a handlebar moustache and a fedora appeared on the screen, shaking his head.
"Heya Mark, I heard about yer little trouble o'er Kyushu from Mama Dis."
"You - how?"
"[TAZ]Discordia ring a bell? That's our Mama Dis. Anyhoo, she told me all 'bout it. Boy, I toldja that thing wasn't fit fer combat!"
"Hey! It's not like I went looking for trouble, y'know? I just took off, and got a facefull of red. Trade lanes got disrupted, and our only choice was to fight."
"'Our'? Who - aaaaah, I see. Heheh. Ya done good, Mark. Anyhow...I wanna help ya out. Be a mite snug in an Orca, though."
"A what? No, no...I can't accept that! Hell, I still haven't paid you back for the last time-"
"Sure ya can! 'Cuz, how're you gonna make enough money to repair that heap, an' then save up fer an Orca yerself, eh? Bounties? On what? Freighters? Naw. You gonna trade in that thing? 430 cargo space don't go too far, y'know."
Katashi sighed, and looked down at a ruined console. But before he could open his mouth, Ren spoke. "We'll accept it, and pay you back with bounties...because we're going fully BHG. No more Freelancing."
He whirled toward her. "What?!"
"I've seen it in your eyes when we hunt, Katashi. You are a hunter. You proved it in orbit today, when you chose to fight the criminals instead of just turning around and docking. A Freelancer would've turned and left immediately. But a Hunter..."
"I thought you agreed I was being true to myself when I got the Explorer?"
"I thought you were! How was I supposed to know this thing would be so awful in a fight?"
"It'll be awfully tight onboard an Orca..."
"Then I'll sleep with you! Geez, you are so difficult!"
"...You'll really sleep with me?"
"GAWD! You know what I mean."
He threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! Fine! Okay. I don't like taking money from other people, though...I WILL pay you and the TAZ back, Linus. I swear I'll pay you back with interest."
Linus smiled, and the cat on his shoulder licked her lips. "Alrighty, sounds like we got ourselves a deal. I'll meetcha where we met before, 'kay?"
Katashi nodded. "Alright. We'll be there, as soon as we can make this wreck spaceworthy again."
But after an engagement over Planet Kyushu, Katashi began to have doubts. An IMG gunboat, an advanced train, and his Explorer vs. an IMG GB and a Corsair GB. Mere moments later, he'd had to return to the planet's surface, leaking all kinds of nasty chemicals into the atmosphere from the vessel's critically damaged hull. For the first time, Ren looked scared; and Kat had to admit that he was, too.
After crash-landing, they both stumbled away from the wreck, shaking. After a few minutes, they put their blood and grease-stained arms slowly around each other, and just stared at it. It didn't take a mind reader to tell that they were both thinking about how close that had been, closer than any of their previous encounters. All because the ship they'd chosen due to how comfortable it was just happened to also be a big, fat, target.
After awhile - neither of them were quite sure exactly how long - they finally got up the courage to re-enter the ship, and found that someone had been trying to contact them. Reluctantly, Ren patched it through at Katashi's insistence. A rugged-looking man with a handlebar moustache and a fedora appeared on the screen, shaking his head.
"Heya Mark, I heard about yer little trouble o'er Kyushu from Mama Dis."
"You - how?"
"[TAZ]Discordia ring a bell? That's our Mama Dis. Anyhoo, she told me all 'bout it. Boy, I toldja that thing wasn't fit fer combat!"
"Hey! It's not like I went looking for trouble, y'know? I just took off, and got a facefull of red. Trade lanes got disrupted, and our only choice was to fight."
"'Our'? Who - aaaaah, I see. Heheh. Ya done good, Mark. Anyhow...I wanna help ya out. Be a mite snug in an Orca, though."
"A what? No, no...I can't accept that! Hell, I still haven't paid you back for the last time-"
"Sure ya can! 'Cuz, how're you gonna make enough money to repair that heap, an' then save up fer an Orca yerself, eh? Bounties? On what? Freighters? Naw. You gonna trade in that thing? 430 cargo space don't go too far, y'know."
Katashi sighed, and looked down at a ruined console. But before he could open his mouth, Ren spoke. "We'll accept it, and pay you back with bounties...because we're going fully BHG. No more Freelancing."
He whirled toward her. "What?!"
"I've seen it in your eyes when we hunt, Katashi. You are a hunter. You proved it in orbit today, when you chose to fight the criminals instead of just turning around and docking. A Freelancer would've turned and left immediately. But a Hunter..."
"I thought you agreed I was being true to myself when I got the Explorer?"
"I thought you were! How was I supposed to know this thing would be so awful in a fight?"
"It'll be awfully tight onboard an Orca..."
"Then I'll sleep with you! Geez, you are so difficult!"
"...You'll really sleep with me?"
"GAWD! You know what I mean."
He threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! Fine! Okay. I don't like taking money from other people, though...I WILL pay you and the TAZ back, Linus. I swear I'll pay you back with interest."
Linus smiled, and the cat on his shoulder licked her lips. "Alrighty, sounds like we got ourselves a deal. I'll meetcha where we met before, 'kay?"
Katashi nodded. "Alright. We'll be there, as soon as we can make this wreck spaceworthy again."