[font=Impact]04:39:56
SUNDAY [font=Impact]PLANET MALTA
"You'll never get away with this, I swear! My children, my family, they will hunt you down like a dog!!" yelled Maria de Santos.
The figure clad in the weathered Outcast flight uniform stopped, while two similarly clad men loaded the screaming Maria into the back of a Dromedary freighter.
The figure turned to Maria. "We'll see about that."
Maria de Santos swallowed. She thought that it was just a story. A myth that some mother in the far northern regions of Malta had invented to keep her children from straying too far at night. Ironically, she thought now, she was the one whom they had nabbed and caught. Staring helplessly at her captors, there was little Maria could do but scream and shout. But in the 230 acres of plantation that she and her husband owned, few could hear her.
He had taken her son for a tour around Malta, to show him the Hispania, Maria remembered. She feared that she would never see him again.
Jorge, she thought, rescue me.
The hatch on the dromedary closed, and darkness enveloped Maria.
They had come so quickly, so suddenly, it was like a dream. She wished it was a dream, hopelessly pinching herself to wake herself up from reality. La Sangre, they called him. They said that he was a demigod, some kind of inhuman monster that had been born of the orange grasses of Malta itself. Something...unkillable, like a beast rendered by the great ones to plague the mortal world. Maria had always dismissed it as myth.
She never understood until now.
He looked just like any other Outcast she had ever seen, except those, feral, orange-brown, eyes...and the blood. His flight jacket was open when he stepped into her home, and after they subdued her, despite her struggling, and prepared to carry her away, it began.
It was like dew drops on the blades of cardamine in the morning. Only it was blood and the skin of his chest. When he noticed Maria staring, he simply laughed, smeared some on his finger, and shoved it into her mouth.
It was horrible and euphoric at the same time. She saw everything, but was blinded. The world began to spin, and all Maria could do was bite down. When the haze cleared, she watched his finger slowly grow back. It was amazing.
Leaning against something else in the pitch black hold, Maria cried.
Quote:[7:42:05 PM][6:51:36 PM] Igor (Smokey): btw terry
[6:51:48 PM] Terrance Cooper: Ye?
[6:52:00 PM] Igor (Smokey): nothin
[6:52:03 PM] Igor (Smokey): just sayin btw
[6:52:05 PM] Terrance Cooper: <_<
Quote:Johnny_Haas: you shot anti criuse speed rockets!!!
Johnny_Haas: but why????
Johnny_Haas: ??
Johnny_Haas: why you shoot criuse speed rockets?
Dennis Nelson stared into the barely transparent vial of red fluid. Though not an expert, years of handling drugs and their containers taught Nelson to pick up on certain things. For instance, the vial was shatterproof, airtight, and the glass was very thick. Most novices would have simply glanced at it and said 25 mills*, but Nelson knew otherwise. The contents of the vial were at most 10 mills. Glass could have a deceptive effect on the eyes.
Still, Nelson had never seen anything like it before. The local Rogue boss stationed on Padua, Nelson tasted, saw, and knew every single drug that flowed through the veins of Sirius like the back of his hand. He stared at the vial again. It was a semi-transparent, crimson red.
Nelson shook his head. "Look mate, if I don't know what it is, it's not getting distributed."
Shooting a glance at his second-in-command, a tall, well-built man wearing an outmoded security earpiece, Nelson flipped the vial into the air and into the other man's hands. The two outcasts in their standard black flight jackets flinched. One shifted his weight onto his other leg, moving backwards ever so slightly.
But the third Outcast, the seated one with unzipped flight suit, baring his chest, snickered. "You don't want to do that."
Nelson ignored him. "Ever seen anything like that, Diesel?"
"Nope."
"I think you've some explaining to do," said Nelson. "Your men are shifty around the stuff, so that makes you either very stupid or very confident."
The seated Outcast grinned.
Nelson pulled up a chair and sat down. "Let me explain something to you that you don't seem to understand," began Nelson. "This is our base. This is our system. I don't give a f--- what the hell the top Rogue honchos in Buffalo think. My job is too keep this system under our control, and one huge way I do that is by pushing stuff that you folks give us."
"I appreciate you coming down all the way from Malta to pay us a visit, even though its costing us hundreds of thousands of credits to keep your ship docked outside our base every minute you stay here. We respect our allies," continued Nelson. "But I'm not seeing that same respect here. You dock on our base, tell us you've got the stuff, and you give me this crap that I've never seen before in my whole f---in' life, and you expect me to pay five times the normal amount I pay you for it?"
Nelson paused. Diesel handed the vial back to Nelson.
The seated Outcast leaned forward. "Yes."
Nelson burst out laughing. After a few seconds, Diesel followed lead. The seated Outcast joined suit. Not knowing what to do, his Outcast companions began to laugh awkwardly as well.
Nelson suddenly stopped laughing. "Where the f--- is Santiago Gonzalez?"
Nelson's patience was wearing thin. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his customized, revolving chamber dart gun, and pointed it at the seated Outcast. Before his companions could do anything, the automatic doors behind them opened, and several more rogues filed in, carrying a variety of weapons. Diesel drew a weathered Liberty Navy blaster pistol.
"WHERE. THE. F---. IS. SANTIAGO," demanded Nelson, livid.
"Whoa, there," said the seated Outcast, putting his hands up. "No need to get violent. Santiago Gonzalez is dead."
Nelson squinted and looked at the Outcast funny. Was this guy trying to get killed, he thought. Something was up.
"How about this," said the seated Outcast, adjusting his flight jacket. "Let me show you what that stuff can do, then you kill me if you want, alright?"
Nelson considered. There were three of them, possibly more in the ship, but he already ordered a weak nerve agent be released via the airlock from their base.
His curiosity won over.
"Frisk them. When you're done, put them in the bar, and I'll tend to them later," ordered Nelson. "Oh, and, the vial stays with me, gents."
---------------------------
*Mills - Slang for milliliters.
Quote:[7:42:05 PM][6:51:36 PM] Igor (Smokey): btw terry
[6:51:48 PM] Terrance Cooper: Ye?
[6:52:00 PM] Igor (Smokey): nothin
[6:52:03 PM] Igor (Smokey): just sayin btw
[6:52:05 PM] Terrance Cooper: <_<
Quote:Johnny_Haas: you shot anti criuse speed rockets!!!
Johnny_Haas: but why????
Johnny_Haas: ??
Johnny_Haas: why you shoot criuse speed rockets?
Wolf Hutton peered through the eyepiece of the antiquated neutron microscope in Padua's small, but adequate medical wing. Hutton had been a member for the Rogues for nearly thirty years now, ever since they first took him as a captive from aboard a Cryer transport. At first, Hutton resisted, but eventually, he grew into his new niche, and found himself becoming a Rogue as well. Despite being discriminated against as a new Rogue, he also eventually found that his tasks made him one of the most revered and longest-serving Rogues in Liberty. Soon, Hutton found himself outliving those that he could have fathered.
Hell, thought Hutton, everyone had a bit of "Rogue" in them.
Trained as a lab technician on Atka, Hutton was quite proficient with the equipment on Padua, despite the fact that it was at least fifty years behind modern standards. Zooming in, Hutton then adjusted the magnification.
"What is it?"
Hutton cursed. "I don't know."
"Damn," muttered Dennis Nelson.
Hutton refocused the microscope. "I need a more powerful lens," he said, and stood to dig through a toolbox full of parts from other collected microscopes.
Immediately after they sealed the Outcasts into the bar on Padua, he took the vial down to Wolf to see if the old timer could tell what it was using some of his equipment. Nelson never cared for the sciences himself, but he knew that the study could be quite advantageous when one had the time to use them.
"Here," Hutton said, attaching another lens. "Why..."
"Why what?" asked Nelson.
"It's...hemoglobin," said Hutton, surprised.
"What?" asked Nelson. "What the hell is that? Some kind of hallucinogen?"
"No, you blockhead," said Hutton. "We all have it. It's what Oxygen binds to when it enters our bloodstream."
Nelson restrained himself. The man was getting old, but he still needed to be reminded of his place occasionally. "Right, I wasn't aware."
"It's alright," said Hutton. "This is interesting. The structure...its completely altered."
"Then how could you tell it was hemoglobin?"
"The substance. It's red. Hemoglobin gets red when it bonds with oxygen," said Hutton. "I've...never seen anything like it before. I wish I could take some out of the vial. The glass messes with the neutron beams."
"No," said Nelson. "I'll take the vial from here. You did good."
"Hmmm," said Hutton. "In science, 'good' often means opening a pandora's box, you know?"
Nelson stared at Hutton for a moment, trying to make sense of what the old man just said. Shaking his head, he walked out, vial in hand. Pandora, he thought. Would be a good name for a whore.
Quote:[7:42:05 PM][6:51:36 PM] Igor (Smokey): btw terry
[6:51:48 PM] Terrance Cooper: Ye?
[6:52:00 PM] Igor (Smokey): nothin
[6:52:03 PM] Igor (Smokey): just sayin btw
[6:52:05 PM] Terrance Cooper: <_<
Quote:Johnny_Haas: you shot anti criuse speed rockets!!!
Johnny_Haas: but why????
Johnny_Haas: ??
Johnny_Haas: why you shoot criuse speed rockets?
[font=Impact]13:30:36
SUNDAY [font=Impact]IBIZA BASE
"It's been confirmed. Some Zoner saw the debris floating somewhere in Kyushu."
Roberto Santella cursed in Hispanic. The Outcast officer who just delivered the message handed Santella a folder.
Browsing through the photos in the folder, Santella realized that it was true. The remains of Santiago Gonzalez's Borderworlds Yacht.
Gonzalez had been known as one of the best cardamine smugglers in Alpha. Respected by the BLS and adored by the small time plantation owners that he exclusively shipped for, Gonzalez was soon amassing a fortune from the sheer amount of jobs he took.
Santiago was a good smuggler, thought Santella. A good friend as well.
The smuggler saved Santella once in the Taus, when a group of bounty hunters were in hot pursuit of Santella's Scimitar. After losing his thruster to mines, Santella could not maneuver or dodge effectively anymore, and began to fall prey to the bolts of energy eating away at his hull. Then, Gonzalez arrived, and began to batter the hunters with his powerful turrets and virtually indestructible shields.
Santella never told Gonzalez that he was returning from a mission to capture a top Bounty Hunter leader.
Later, though Gonzalez found out, he let Santella take full credit for it anyways.
Santella cursed again. Now, Gonzalez was dead, and his shipment of extra-pure cardamine bound for Mactan hijacked.
Quote:[7:42:05 PM][6:51:36 PM] Igor (Smokey): btw terry
[6:51:48 PM] Terrance Cooper: Ye?
[6:52:00 PM] Igor (Smokey): nothin
[6:52:03 PM] Igor (Smokey): just sayin btw
[6:52:05 PM] Terrance Cooper: <_<
Quote:Johnny_Haas: you shot anti criuse speed rockets!!!
Johnny_Haas: but why????
Johnny_Haas: ??
Johnny_Haas: why you shoot criuse speed rockets?
