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Sir Ian Edward Greenham - MadShark581 - 02-01-2008
MadShark581
Part I
Personal Information:
Name
Sir Ian Edward Greenham, PhD
Rank
Chief Military Surgeon
Age
42
Height
1.85m
Weight
72.58kg
Hair Color
Brown/Blond
Eye Color
Green (right), Kusari Bioengineers Falcon model bionic eye (left)
Planet/Station of Origin
Bretonia Marine Colony 005, Sector 1B, Neptune
Background Information:
23rd Century, Nautilus Suites, Bretonia Marine Colony 005
Greenham stood alone in the dark of his Nautilus Suite on the 206th floor, 2,000m bellow the surface. The only light in the room came from the magma flowing through pipes into the hydrothermal plants only 100 floors bellow him. He stood in his royal navy attire, all while the dim light reflected off of the Medal of Honor on his chest, and the shattered glass and scotch strewn on the floor. He still hadnt gotten used to his new robotic hands, nor his new bionic eye (which he hid beneath the scallop shell eye patch his wife bought him as a returning present).
Only one hour remained before his party. He was to celebrate his retirement form the Bretonian Royal Navy after serving as a Senior Combat Medic for 24 years (yeah, hes seen a lot of ****). However, as well as celebrating an end, he would celebrate the new.
During his down time in the Alliance armed forces, Greenham received a grant form the Bretonian Prime Minister to begin biological arms research. The project was dubbed highly classified to the point where it was non-existent to all but those five scientists involved and the Prime Minister. Had the project been made public Bretonia would have been charged with treason. The project (official named D.O.M.) tested the biological weapons on P.O.W.s as well as all of the wounded alliance troops. Greenham had such an influence over the Alliance Medical Corps that he began to traffic all wounded soldiers to the Martian lab and alter all medical records to read K.I.A. After 10 years of experimentation all project funds were cut do to the Prime Ministers anxiety over the subject. In a desperate move Greenham began to test his weapons on himself. Had he not succeeded, he would have been, under the highest Alliance authority, sentenced to death. The biological weapon he christened The End took his arms, his eye, and his sanity. And he would be rewarded for it. A Nobel Prize was rumored.
At midnight the party began. Greenhams wife, Rachel, and their new born son, Ian II, as well as the D.O.M. team, the Bretonian Prime Minister, and ambassadors from all of the Alliance nations were present. The End would be presented to the alliance at the end of the party as the weapon of extinction to be used against the Coalition. All Greenham wanted was peace, and if the extinction of the Coalition through a WMD was the only way, so be it. Through his years in battle and research, Greenham was perplexed by the same question? Why must one hate oneself? Why is man fighting man? Not only did this question perplex him, it maddened him. If man is killing itself, then the malignant affliction must be terminated.
Everyone cheered, for The End would be wrought upon the Coalition. In a week Greenham would travel to Earth for the End of the War Celebration in which he would hand over the molecular key with which the weapon would be crafted from. But that would not happen, for at dawn after the party, a man approached Greenham and said The Coalition has the answer to peace. Greenham lifted the Coalition agent up by his neck.
There is no peace for the weak The man said as he dropped a card at Greenhams feet.
Greenham severed the agents spine effortlessly and threw him into the sea. Now find peace
Up until the celebration on Earth, Greenham sat in solitude pondering the Coalitions proposition to join forces with them (as written on the card). The night of the celebration, Greenham shot his wife and child. The day of the celebration, he did not show up in person, but on a screen being broadcasted throughout the city by the Coalitions Dreadnought, Ragnarok, in orbit above Mars. His face was horrifically scarred and his remaining eye was red from the bursting of the capillaries on the surface of his eye.
We are all man, part of one human race. As is the case in any species it is prone to disease. You the Alliance, are the parasite that hinders the Human Race with your sheer weakness. I have chosen. THERE CAN BE NO PEACE FOR THE WEAK! AND THE ALLIANCE IS WEAK!
Billions of faces froze with horror as he handed the molecular key for The End over to the Coalition. Once the weapon was made, the Alliance would perish.
As months passed Coalition spies hacked Alliance mainframes and discovered the escape plan for the sleeper ships. Greenham planned to sabotage the mission by activating his weapon on launch planet for the sleeper ships. Within a week Greenham stood on the planet surface with the bomb in hand and dropped it into a crowd. He strolled back into his disguised Coalition freighter and headed for space. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 nothing. The weapon failed. The pilot relayed the news of the failure to the Coalition ships base on Mars. Greenham at the same moment drew his gun and shot the crew dead. He took control and shot right for the planet and crashed landed. The juggernaut pulled himself out of the flaming wreck and tore down the walkway to the Prime Ministers temporary estate. A man running wild with a 5 million credit bounty on his head and no one could stop him. That was until he took a blade to the chest from the Bretonian Prime minister. After that Ian E. Greenham was officially dead and the Prime Minister was unofficially dead. Greenham did take the blade, but through his collapsed lung. He in turn dislocated the Prime Ministers jaw so he could pull it down far enough to stick his hand and a gun to destroy his head. Greenham took the body, loaded it onto a transport, and headed back to his Neptune lab. At the lab he did two things: pack his modified radiation suit (modified to hold his massive life support system, to withstand space/aquatic environments, and with heavy armor), an EMP bomb, and his molecular key, and he performed surgery to reshape his face into the Prime Ministers.
The day for the sleeper to launch finally came. The Prime Minister boarded and went to his pod. Then the pod door closed and Greenham fell asleep. Several years later he awoke and busted his pod open. Greenham, groggy and half frozen found the central core and planted the EMP bomb. He needed to overload the core before he could vent the weapon into the sleeper pods. He activated the EMP and received an awakening jolt that short circuited his suit and fried the molecular key. Not only that, the EMP shut down the engines and shut down the core shields. Now the entire ship and Greenham were at risk of an explosion of catastrophic proportions. Greenham sprinted to closest working pod and got in. The overload overpowered the cryo-freezing process so enough chemicals were pumped into Greenhams system to keep him in a deep sleep for well long enough. He jettisoned his pod and said ****-off to this time.
Personal Information:
Name
Sir Ian Edward Greenham, PhD
Rank
Chief Military Surgeon
Age
42
Height
1.85m
Weight
72.58kg
Hair Color
Brown/Blond
Eye Color
Green (right), Kusari Bioengineers Falcon model bionic eye (left)
Planet/Station of Origin
Bretonia Marine Colony 005, Sector 1B, Neptune
Background Information:
23rd Century, Nautilus Suites, Bretonia Marine Colony 005
Greenham stood alone in the dark of his Nautilus Suite on the 206th floor, 2,000m bellow the surface. The only light in the room came from the magma flowing through pipes into the hydrothermal plants only 100 floors bellow him. He stood in his royal navy attire, all while the dim light reflected off of the Medal of Honor on his chest, and the shattered glass and scotch strewn on the floor. He still hadnt gotten used to his new robotic hands, nor his new bionic eye (which he hid beneath the scallop shell eye patch his wife bought him as a returning present).
Only one hour remained before his party. He was to celebrate his retirement form the Bretonian Royal Navy after serving as a Senior Combat Medic for 24 years (yeah, hes seen a lot of ****). However, as well as celebrating an end, he would celebrate the new.
During his down time in the Alliance armed forces, Greenham received a grant form the Bretonian Prime Minister to begin biological arms research. The project was dubbed highly classified to the point where it was non-existent to all but those five scientists involved and the Prime Minister. Had the project been made public Bretonia would have been charged with treason. The project (official named D.O.M.) tested the biological weapons on P.O.W.s as well as all of the wounded alliance troops. Greenham had such an influence over the Alliance Medical Corps that he began to traffic all wounded soldiers to the Martian lab and alter all medical records to read K.I.A. After 10 years of experimentation all project funds were cut do to the Prime Ministers anxiety over the subject. In a desperate move Greenham began to test his weapons on himself. Had he not succeeded, he would have been, under the highest Alliance authority, sentenced to death. The biological weapon he christened The End took his arms, his eye, and his sanity. And he would be rewarded for it. A Nobel Prize was rumored.
At midnight the party began. Greenhams wife, Rachel, and their new born son, Ian II, as well as the D.O.M. team, the Bretonian Prime Minister, and ambassadors from all of the Alliance nations were present. The End would be presented to the alliance at the end of the party as the weapon of extinction to be used against the Coalition. All Greenham wanted was peace, and if the extinction of the Coalition through a WMD was the only way, so be it. Through his years in battle and research, Greenham was perplexed by the same question? Why must one hate oneself? Why is man fighting man? Not only did this question perplex him, it maddened him. If man is killing itself, then the malignant affliction must be terminated.
Everyone cheered, for The End would be wrought upon the Coalition. In a week Greenham would travel to Earth for the End of the War Celebration in which he would hand over the molecular key with which the weapon would be crafted from. But that would not happen, for at dawn after the party, a man approached Greenham and said The Coalition has the answer to peace. Greenham lifted the Coalition agent up by his neck.
There is no peace for the weak The man said as he dropped a card at Greenhams feet.
Greenham severed the agents spine effortlessly and threw him into the sea. Now find peace
Up until the celebration on Earth, Greenham sat in solitude pondering the Coalitions proposition to join forces with them (as written on the card). The night of the celebration, Greenham shot his wife and child. The day of the celebration, he did not show up in person, but on a screen being broadcasted throughout the city by the Coalitions Dreadnought, Ragnarok, in orbit above Mars. His face was horrifically scarred and his remaining eye was red from the bursting of the capillaries on the surface of his eye.
We are all man, part of one human race. As is the case in any species it is prone to disease. You the Alliance, are the parasite that hinders the Human Race with your sheer weakness. I have chosen. THERE CAN BE NO PEACE FOR THE WEAK! AND THE ALLIANCE IS WEAK!
Billions of faces froze with horror as he handed the molecular key for The End over to the Coalition. Once the weapon was made, the Alliance would perish.
As months passed Coalition spies hacked Alliance mainframes and discovered the escape plan for the sleeper ships. Greenham planned to sabotage the mission by activating his weapon on launch planet for the sleeper ships. Within a week Greenham stood on the planet surface with the bomb in hand and dropped it into a crowd. He strolled back into his disguised Coalition freighter and headed for space. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 nothing. The weapon failed. The pilot relayed the news of the failure to the Coalition ships base on Mars. Greenham at the same moment drew his gun and shot the crew dead. He took control and shot right for the planet and crashed landed. The juggernaut pulled himself out of the flaming wreck and tore down the walkway to the Prime Ministers temporary estate. A man running wild with a 5 million credit bounty on his head and no one could stop him. That was until he took a blade to the chest from the Bretonian Prime minister. After that Ian E. Greenham was officially dead and the Prime Minister was unofficially dead. Greenham did take the blade, but through his collapsed lung. He in turn dislocated the Prime Ministers jaw so he could pull it down far enough to stick his hand and a gun to destroy his head. Greenham took the body, loaded it onto a transport, and headed back to his Neptune lab. At the lab he did two things: pack his modified radiation suit (modified to hold his massive life support system, to withstand space/aquatic environments, and with heavy armor), an EMP bomb, and his molecular key, and he performed surgery to reshape his face into the Prime Ministers.
The day for the sleeper to launch finally came. The Prime Minister boarded and went to his pod. Then the pod door closed and Greenham fell asleep. Several years later he awoke and busted his pod open. Greenham, groggy and half frozen found the central core and planted the EMP bomb. He needed to overload the core before he could vent the weapon into the sleeper pods. He activated the EMP and received an awakening jolt that short circuited his suit and fried the molecular key. Not only that, the EMP shut down the engines and shut down the core shields. Now the entire ship and Greenham were at risk of an explosion of catastrophic proportions. Greenham sprinted to closest working pod and got in. The overload overpowered the cryo-freezing process so enough chemicals were pumped into Greenhams system to keep him in a deep sleep for well long enough. He jettisoned his pod and said ****-off to this time.
Sir Ian Edward Greenham - MadShark581 - 02-01-2008
Part II
Personal Information:
Alias
Zale
Rank
Bounty Hunter Lord
Standard Age
42
Biological Age
842
Height
65
Weight
250lbs
Hair Color
Unknown
Eye Color
Unknown
Background Information:
Zales hammerhead, christened Mad Shark, tractor beamed in an alien artifact from a decimated smuggling train. His bounty hunter fleet was in pitched combat with Nomad forces who desperately sought the artifact soon to be in Zales possession. The bounty hunters were falling one by one. Zale marched down to the cargo hold and shot the artifact to pieces.
At last
Zale took off his helmet and kneeled over the shattered artifact. He picked up the little creature he found tucked in the artifact and swallowed it whole. The Nomads ceased fire and left. Apparently, they didnt promote friendly fire. Zale sat down at the helm and lead his remaining fleet back to his base in the New Dublin system. The mission was accomplished. He paid the bounty hunters on board his crippled hijacked Bretonian Dreadnaught, the Megalodon.
Zale used the Meg as a base of operations and as a research facility. His new research interest was himself. He crafted a new full body armored life suit for combat, protection, and life support. The suit was linked with his body to maintain homeostasis and keep what was left of him alive. He is rebuilding his body inside the tank he wears and never needs to take off. He also modified the weapon and calls it Zale now. He inserted the molecular key into his suit and now circulates and produces the weapon in his body. And that Nomad he willfully ingested? Zale keeps it from taking over and feeds off of its tremendous power, and builds a body from it, but also keeps it alive. While Zale does deteriorate the body, it breaks it down to the point where the genes can be completely changed, and the healing agents/nanobots circulating his blood with the Nomads power begin to rebuild the body anew. His body never stops changing. At the moment he is more Nomad and machine than human. However, as time passed he began to grow weak as Zale began killing off the Nomad. He was losing the source of his strength. He needed more. If he died then his legacy, the legacy of Zale, which has yet to be discovered, would die. He needed Nomad and the Nomad knew where they were.
As Mad Shark drifted through space the Nomad began talking to Zale. It told him about the order, their creators, and their duty to find the artifacts and ignite civil war. As the Nomad went on, Zale became more vulnerable to its influence. It began fusing with his central nervous system and began leeching all of the information it needed on Zale. It absorbed the Zale into its body as well as all of Greenhams memories which it kept dormant.
Ian, we need to find the Order, Ian. We need to test Zale on them.
Why the Order?
They wish to harm me Ian, and I must destroy them with Zale.
No You cant use Zale. Zale is mine! I am Zale! With that, Greenham drew his pistol to his head and fired. Ian Edward Greenham was dead. Only his memories and unknown legacy, Zale, would live on in the Nomad.
The creature slithered out of Greenham through the gaping hole in his head and crawled over to the helm. It activated the distress beacon and waited.
Personal Information:
Alias
Zale
Rank
Bounty Hunter Lord
Standard Age
42
Biological Age
842
Height
65
Weight
250lbs
Hair Color
Unknown
Eye Color
Unknown
Background Information:
Zales hammerhead, christened Mad Shark, tractor beamed in an alien artifact from a decimated smuggling train. His bounty hunter fleet was in pitched combat with Nomad forces who desperately sought the artifact soon to be in Zales possession. The bounty hunters were falling one by one. Zale marched down to the cargo hold and shot the artifact to pieces.
At last
Zale took off his helmet and kneeled over the shattered artifact. He picked up the little creature he found tucked in the artifact and swallowed it whole. The Nomads ceased fire and left. Apparently, they didnt promote friendly fire. Zale sat down at the helm and lead his remaining fleet back to his base in the New Dublin system. The mission was accomplished. He paid the bounty hunters on board his crippled hijacked Bretonian Dreadnaught, the Megalodon.
Zale used the Meg as a base of operations and as a research facility. His new research interest was himself. He crafted a new full body armored life suit for combat, protection, and life support. The suit was linked with his body to maintain homeostasis and keep what was left of him alive. He is rebuilding his body inside the tank he wears and never needs to take off. He also modified the weapon and calls it Zale now. He inserted the molecular key into his suit and now circulates and produces the weapon in his body. And that Nomad he willfully ingested? Zale keeps it from taking over and feeds off of its tremendous power, and builds a body from it, but also keeps it alive. While Zale does deteriorate the body, it breaks it down to the point where the genes can be completely changed, and the healing agents/nanobots circulating his blood with the Nomads power begin to rebuild the body anew. His body never stops changing. At the moment he is more Nomad and machine than human. However, as time passed he began to grow weak as Zale began killing off the Nomad. He was losing the source of his strength. He needed more. If he died then his legacy, the legacy of Zale, which has yet to be discovered, would die. He needed Nomad and the Nomad knew where they were.
As Mad Shark drifted through space the Nomad began talking to Zale. It told him about the order, their creators, and their duty to find the artifacts and ignite civil war. As the Nomad went on, Zale became more vulnerable to its influence. It began fusing with his central nervous system and began leeching all of the information it needed on Zale. It absorbed the Zale into its body as well as all of Greenhams memories which it kept dormant.
Ian, we need to find the Order, Ian. We need to test Zale on them.
Why the Order?
They wish to harm me Ian, and I must destroy them with Zale.
No You cant use Zale. Zale is mine! I am Zale! With that, Greenham drew his pistol to his head and fired. Ian Edward Greenham was dead. Only his memories and unknown legacy, Zale, would live on in the Nomad.
The creature slithered out of Greenham through the gaping hole in his head and crawled over to the helm. It activated the distress beacon and waited.
Part III
Personal Information:
Name
Lt. Ian Stone Virgil Fisher
Rank
Black Squadron Crewman (a.k.a. toilet cleaning noob)
Age
26
Height
61
Weight
165 lbs
Hair Color
Brown/blond
Eye Color
Green
Planet of Origin
Cargo hold of Liberty Prison Freighter, New Dublin System
Basic Personality Traits:
Fisher has a short temper and a foul mouth. Drunken antics aside hes shy and very independent. His humor is offensive, cynical, sarcastic, and/or just plain inappropriate. Contrary to how he was raised, he does have good manners. When in groups he is unfamiliar with he acts very formal, where as he will begin to open up with people he is more accustomed to. He is very serious about his work and will do whatever it takes to finish the job. Most people are intimidated by him. He is a fine lover of women.
Ship Class:
Black Squadron Order and Allied (Corsair) Bombers
Other:
As his name hints he has an obsession with the sea and fish (sharks), thats why he bought a pet land shark named Sharky (when Sharky died the next day Fisher made a necklace out of his teeth and ate the remains). He got the nickname Stone for three reasons: 1. it sounds cool. 2. one day he showed up on Essex with a gash on his cheek when his wife threw a stone at his face for looking at another woman on their honeymoon (he grew a beard to cover up the scar). 3. His expressionless stone-face. He decided to name the Nomad in his head Ziggy after the pathetic gay Rheinland reporter he was ordered to protect and had to demonstrate self-control so he wouldnt kill the man. Hes also racist against the Kusari because of the war Bretonia is in with them. He can always be seen wearing his old Bretonian navy jacket over his Order uniform with a black market shotgun slung over his shoulder.
Background Information:
Yeah, his mom got knocked up on a prison freighter. He was raised in the lower slums of Leeds until he was 16 when his mother was arrested again for smuggling almost every kind of contraband recognized by the Bretonian Armed Forces. For two years he lived with is girlfriend until she got pregnant and he got the boot. He registered with the Bretonian Armed Forces and reported to the Essex for immediate training. As his transport neared the Essex it was nearly clipped in half by an asteroid. Damn Hackers launched an asteroid through a jump gate. The rock collided with Leeds and wrecked his girlfriends home city. Her bastard dad died. Served him right. Luckily his girlfriend was away from the crash, but she was getting an abortion and seeing another guy. For the next eight years Fisher trained and ascended the ranks to Lt. and a Black Watch Commando. In addition, he got married to Cambridge royalty (as the years went by, he found her to be a complete bitch). While on patrol with Rho Squad of the Black Watch he picked up a distress beacon and told his squad.
What? Sir, Im gonna need you to repeat that, over. His accent was so thick it was hard for most people to understand him. Even his squad had trouble.
Looks like another ghost ship. Ill check it out alone. Fisher docked with the ghost ship.
What did he say?
Hell if I know Stupid git.
As Fisher entered he saw the body of some poor sonofabitch who capped himself.
The Nomad saw its new host. It attacked. Within seconds it was inside Fisher. Something was wrong. It couldnt assert its control. Fishers body was riddled with legal and illegal implants like stimulants, enhancers, and a weak EMP for instance. Plus, fisher had a stronger will than Greenham, as well several brain implants. All the creature could do is talk.
Human, you will serve as my host. I am Demonray. I have tainted your body with a deadly weapon. Take me to Omicron 100 or I will kill you. The creature had no idea how to talk.
Youre bluffin ya dumb ****. Fisher said. He was right. The creature didnt know jack ****. All it knew was where the order was, the power of Zale, and that it had to kill its infected hosts to activate it. Aside from that it didnt know jack ****. It didnt even know about the famous Liberty presidential candidate Jack Schitt. Also, it didnt know how to infect or rather take over Fisher.
Fisher planted a bomb, blew the ship and flew back with Rho squadron and wrote the report as a retard who shot himself cause he was stupid. The whole way back Demonray tried to explain its case. It just pissed off Fisher. Three hours of this thing talking.
God Damn it! Fine! ****ing fine! You blooding ****ing wanker Ill go to Omicron to get you out of my ****ing head!
Perfect so get going.
In a rage Fisher took a weeks leave, went to the pub on Leeds, got pissed drunk, went home and told his wife, slapped her, geared up and took off in his Templar. Since he was drunk, he set the auto-pilot to Omicron 100. Hi picked up a copy of the Kusaris Muses Musings, a book of poetry his wife bought as a bathroom reader, to put him to sleep. He opened the first page and began to drift off to sleep when a picture of his wife slipped out of the pages. She gave it to him for his birthday when he would be in Rheinland for 6 months.
Whats that doin there? Thisll make this long flight shorter A screw it. He just fell asleep anyway.
While he snored like a pig with a baseball lodged in his throat he had a disturbing dream. It was of a man from the past, at least 800 years murdering a woman and a child. He awoke in a sweat. Wheres the picture? Ah, still in my pocket. Hope no one searches me for contraband. Though I wouldnt mind a frisking from the female patrollers.
As he entered Omicron 100 a dozen strange ships surrounded him.
Holy **** whats the bloody Order doing here?!
He received a message from the blockade. Nomad, surrender to us.
Ah **** me
Personal Information:
Name
Lt. Ian Stone Virgil Fisher
Rank
Black Squadron Crewman (a.k.a. toilet cleaning noob)
Age
26
Height
61
Weight
165 lbs
Hair Color
Brown/blond
Eye Color
Green
Planet of Origin
Cargo hold of Liberty Prison Freighter, New Dublin System
Basic Personality Traits:
Fisher has a short temper and a foul mouth. Drunken antics aside hes shy and very independent. His humor is offensive, cynical, sarcastic, and/or just plain inappropriate. Contrary to how he was raised, he does have good manners. When in groups he is unfamiliar with he acts very formal, where as he will begin to open up with people he is more accustomed to. He is very serious about his work and will do whatever it takes to finish the job. Most people are intimidated by him. He is a fine lover of women.
Ship Class:
Black Squadron Order and Allied (Corsair) Bombers
Other:
As his name hints he has an obsession with the sea and fish (sharks), thats why he bought a pet land shark named Sharky (when Sharky died the next day Fisher made a necklace out of his teeth and ate the remains). He got the nickname Stone for three reasons: 1. it sounds cool. 2. one day he showed up on Essex with a gash on his cheek when his wife threw a stone at his face for looking at another woman on their honeymoon (he grew a beard to cover up the scar). 3. His expressionless stone-face. He decided to name the Nomad in his head Ziggy after the pathetic gay Rheinland reporter he was ordered to protect and had to demonstrate self-control so he wouldnt kill the man. Hes also racist against the Kusari because of the war Bretonia is in with them. He can always be seen wearing his old Bretonian navy jacket over his Order uniform with a black market shotgun slung over his shoulder.
Background Information:
Yeah, his mom got knocked up on a prison freighter. He was raised in the lower slums of Leeds until he was 16 when his mother was arrested again for smuggling almost every kind of contraband recognized by the Bretonian Armed Forces. For two years he lived with is girlfriend until she got pregnant and he got the boot. He registered with the Bretonian Armed Forces and reported to the Essex for immediate training. As his transport neared the Essex it was nearly clipped in half by an asteroid. Damn Hackers launched an asteroid through a jump gate. The rock collided with Leeds and wrecked his girlfriends home city. Her bastard dad died. Served him right. Luckily his girlfriend was away from the crash, but she was getting an abortion and seeing another guy. For the next eight years Fisher trained and ascended the ranks to Lt. and a Black Watch Commando. In addition, he got married to Cambridge royalty (as the years went by, he found her to be a complete bitch). While on patrol with Rho Squad of the Black Watch he picked up a distress beacon and told his squad.
What? Sir, Im gonna need you to repeat that, over. His accent was so thick it was hard for most people to understand him. Even his squad had trouble.
Looks like another ghost ship. Ill check it out alone. Fisher docked with the ghost ship.
What did he say?
Hell if I know Stupid git.
As Fisher entered he saw the body of some poor sonofabitch who capped himself.
The Nomad saw its new host. It attacked. Within seconds it was inside Fisher. Something was wrong. It couldnt assert its control. Fishers body was riddled with legal and illegal implants like stimulants, enhancers, and a weak EMP for instance. Plus, fisher had a stronger will than Greenham, as well several brain implants. All the creature could do is talk.
Human, you will serve as my host. I am Demonray. I have tainted your body with a deadly weapon. Take me to Omicron 100 or I will kill you. The creature had no idea how to talk.
Youre bluffin ya dumb ****. Fisher said. He was right. The creature didnt know jack ****. All it knew was where the order was, the power of Zale, and that it had to kill its infected hosts to activate it. Aside from that it didnt know jack ****. It didnt even know about the famous Liberty presidential candidate Jack Schitt. Also, it didnt know how to infect or rather take over Fisher.
Fisher planted a bomb, blew the ship and flew back with Rho squadron and wrote the report as a retard who shot himself cause he was stupid. The whole way back Demonray tried to explain its case. It just pissed off Fisher. Three hours of this thing talking.
God Damn it! Fine! ****ing fine! You blooding ****ing wanker Ill go to Omicron to get you out of my ****ing head!
Perfect so get going.
In a rage Fisher took a weeks leave, went to the pub on Leeds, got pissed drunk, went home and told his wife, slapped her, geared up and took off in his Templar. Since he was drunk, he set the auto-pilot to Omicron 100. Hi picked up a copy of the Kusaris Muses Musings, a book of poetry his wife bought as a bathroom reader, to put him to sleep. He opened the first page and began to drift off to sleep when a picture of his wife slipped out of the pages. She gave it to him for his birthday when he would be in Rheinland for 6 months.
Whats that doin there? Thisll make this long flight shorter A screw it. He just fell asleep anyway.
While he snored like a pig with a baseball lodged in his throat he had a disturbing dream. It was of a man from the past, at least 800 years murdering a woman and a child. He awoke in a sweat. Wheres the picture? Ah, still in my pocket. Hope no one searches me for contraband. Though I wouldnt mind a frisking from the female patrollers.
As he entered Omicron 100 a dozen strange ships surrounded him.
Holy **** whats the bloody Order doing here?!
He received a message from the blockade. Nomad, surrender to us.
Ah **** me
Sir Ian Edward Greenham - MadShark581 - 02-02-2008
Black Squadron I:
Surrender, Nomad! yelled Admiral DBoy over the comm.
WHAT THE **** IS A NOMAD?! yelled Fisher, just as loud.
Silence.
Im a Nomad. Whispered Demonray in Fishers head.
Yeah, you shut up Ziggy, or Ill smoke you out. I got connections.
Whats whats going on said Hell jumper. If only Fisher could see the look on the Order fleets faces.
Nomad, surrender or Ill open fire. Yelled DBoy.
Listen, Im bloody telling you, this slimy blue wanker just told me to haul ass down to ****ing Omicron ****ing 100 just so it would shut its god damned mouth! And who the **** is Ian Greenham?! Listen, If youd kindly let me step on board Ill stick a finger down me throat and up-chuck this son of a **** onto the floor at your ****ing feet!
Youre either an idiot, not infected, or infected with a clearly intelligent Nomad. Now, what does the Nomad want? Asked DBoy.
**** if I know! I dont give two rats asses about it. Ya know what?! Anybody got cyanide or some whiskey? Cause Ill drown this ****ing cunt!
Wow man. Watch youre language. Does somebody need to take a chill pill? said Sius Malacos with the sincerity and condescension of a pre-school teacher. Hey, DBoy, I think this guys pretty angry. Maybe we should take planet side for a drink and interrogate him. Or rather, friendly questioning instead of interrogation.
Hey, man Are you ****in retarded? What, youre head weigh 16 lbs cause youre a ****in water head? Huh? You Johnny the retard? You know the song right? Johnny the retard was a great big water head, he was 53 and he said to me I like tater tots! **** you!
Calm down and come planet side with us. We just want to examine you and well make it worth your while. Said DBoy. Follow Malacos to our research facility. Hell lead you to the base where well meet you.
Sounds good, now which one of you is Malacos?
I am! said Sius cheerfully. Formation buddies!
Again **** me said Fisher under his breath.
What is ****? asked Demonray?
Hey! Shut up Ziggy. With that, Fisher followed Malacos to the planet Toledo to meet with Black squadron.
Surrender, Nomad! yelled Admiral DBoy over the comm.
WHAT THE **** IS A NOMAD?! yelled Fisher, just as loud.
Silence.
Im a Nomad. Whispered Demonray in Fishers head.
Yeah, you shut up Ziggy, or Ill smoke you out. I got connections.
Whats whats going on said Hell jumper. If only Fisher could see the look on the Order fleets faces.
Nomad, surrender or Ill open fire. Yelled DBoy.
Listen, Im bloody telling you, this slimy blue wanker just told me to haul ass down to ****ing Omicron ****ing 100 just so it would shut its god damned mouth! And who the **** is Ian Greenham?! Listen, If youd kindly let me step on board Ill stick a finger down me throat and up-chuck this son of a **** onto the floor at your ****ing feet!
Youre either an idiot, not infected, or infected with a clearly intelligent Nomad. Now, what does the Nomad want? Asked DBoy.
**** if I know! I dont give two rats asses about it. Ya know what?! Anybody got cyanide or some whiskey? Cause Ill drown this ****ing cunt!
Wow man. Watch youre language. Does somebody need to take a chill pill? said Sius Malacos with the sincerity and condescension of a pre-school teacher. Hey, DBoy, I think this guys pretty angry. Maybe we should take planet side for a drink and interrogate him. Or rather, friendly questioning instead of interrogation.
Hey, man Are you ****in retarded? What, youre head weigh 16 lbs cause youre a ****in water head? Huh? You Johnny the retard? You know the song right? Johnny the retard was a great big water head, he was 53 and he said to me I like tater tots! **** you!
Calm down and come planet side with us. We just want to examine you and well make it worth your while. Said DBoy. Follow Malacos to our research facility. Hell lead you to the base where well meet you.
Sounds good, now which one of you is Malacos?
I am! said Sius cheerfully. Formation buddies!
Again **** me said Fisher under his breath.
What is ****? asked Demonray?
Hey! Shut up Ziggy. With that, Fisher followed Malacos to the planet Toledo to meet with Black squadron.