Sarah reached up and rubbed her eyes, clearing some of the dust stirred up by the Bactrian's landing. It was a small action, but the boost it gave her confidence was beyond doubt. It had been over three days since she'd last stood, as the ache in her legs would testify, and it was a freedom that she swore never to neglect again.
The nineteen year old glanced around the hanger in an attempt to shake the feeling she was being watched. After spending the last few days in the confines of a ship or restraints even Buffalo's meagre docking bay seemed massive, uncomfortably so. The base itself was big, but to Sarah's bombarded senses, it seemed at least twice its actual size. The illusion wasn't helped by her backward facing restraint during the flight in. She'd never seen a station the size of it, sure there was Newark back home, but it barely held a candle to Buffalo Base's looming mass. Sarah's engineer heart couldn't help but admire the structure, as much a testament to the Rogues ingenuity as a base. As much as she appreciated the structure, the same couldn't be said for the men inhabiting it. At least from what she'd seen, though the man in front of her looked as if he could be an exception. He was the only Rogue she'd encountered that had treated her with even a modicum of respect. Removing her shackles didn't hurt either.
When Dervin returned her now useless pistol to her; the girl couldn't help but take note of the speed with which he unloaded the weapon. This was someone who knew his way around a firearm, she got the impression that he'd be just as familiar with an energy rifle. The agility with which his fingers manipulated the rounds hinted at some talent. Perhaps a musician or programmer? Both seemed rare enough amongst the Rogues, the guard with the harmonica notwithstanding. Not that she would call that music anyway.
The Rogue Leader explained her situation quickly. At least he was blunt. Sarah's body tensed at the mention of slavery. She'd made it this far. The girl vowed that if she left here, it would be in a body bag before a slave ship. Like most Libertonians; she held her freedom closer to her heart then life. The teenager straightened her back, making full use of the few centimetre advantage she had over Dervin.
Fighting off her reservations, she forced herself to look the Rogue in the eyes.
"I'm Sarah McFarlen." The Rogue probably already knew but, hey, it couldn't hurt to be polite. She owed him that much. "And I'm here because..." The girl gave a wry smile, almost knowing what the answer would be before she finished her sentence.
"I want to be Rogue." There. It was out. She wasn't entirely sure why, but it was a relief to have said it. As to why she wanted to join these men, even Sarah wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps it was the same reason she'd stolen the CSV; the adventure, the defiance, the freedom. Perhaps part of her still clung to the romantic notion of dashing pirates, cultivated by years of films. She didn't even know when she'd reached that decision. Possibly somewhere between sending her first transmission and being hauled on the transport. Time did funny things in space.
She waited for the Rouges response, certain it would be slavery, but hoping against hope that it wouldn't. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her weapon, little more then metal and plastic. It didn't help. Sarah could see by the look on the mans face that it wouldn't be enough. She sighed slightly, revealing the next piece of information could ultimately do her more harm then good. Still, she had to try.
"I was born on Manhattan. Nothing special. Dad's a businessman, suit and tie type." Sarah didn't feel the need to mention that he was in fact, Johnathon McFarlen, a man widely responsible for the advent of modern shipboard navigation. He was a millionaire many times over. "Mum and Dad were insistent that I join the 'business'. I didn't want to spend life crunching numbers behind a desk, it'd drive me mad. I was working at the hangar there and..... well, you know the rest."
Had she looked out the hangers window she would have seen a faint stirring in the cloud, almost as though a large ship had passed through. A second glance would have revealed nothing but empty space.
As she mentioned her parents, Dervin's mind started to quickly consider new possibilities. A businessman had to at least have some money on a planet like Manhattan. He remembered reading about the expulsion of undesirables from the planet, a movement that had helped spark the formation of the Rogues. So they had some money at least, and now their little girl has run away from home; he wondered how many creds he could rack up if he ransomed her back.
But she wanted to be a Rogue, and this idea amused him to no end. This prissy little thing wanting to fly with the dredges of society. Perhaps it would be worth letting her try, he could always make inquiries to find her parents, given his history with the Hackers. If she didn't pan out, or if she was worth enough... he could always decide later.
Dervin stood and considered his options and felt the urge to indulge in his favorite vice. While watching her with his peripheral vision, he removed a bag of orange powder from his pocket and shoved a knife roughly into it. He carefully removed the cardamine covered blade and snorted it clean and pocketed the accessories. The rush of the drug heightened his senses and sharpened his mind, at least it felt that way, and he let out a sigh of contentment. Dervin was in a good mood. He blinked his eyes as a relaxed smile spread across his face. He slowly looked up at Sarah and snickered to himself.
"So you want to fly with these rats? He gestured out the bay door, still smiling, "Even after you've seen what they're about, what they're like? Honey, you haven't seen the half of it."
He stood and began pacing, emphasizing his words with overly extravagant arm motions, "We kidnap slaves and sell them to the highest bidder, we lie, we rob, we cheat, and we occasionally kill. That is, when we aren't killed ourselves. You know, most of our guys don't make it home, especially with the fat bounties that have been placed on our heads." He moved closer to her and looked her in the eyes, "And I don't think you have the balls for all of it."
Malfient laughed at his own joke and rocked back on his heels. He moved to the corner and slumped into the chair the guard had been using. "So, Sarah, why should I give you one of my fighters to smash up the way you did that CSV? How do I know you're not going to just take it and run out with the next fantasy you have, hoping for a prettier man than I to rescue you?"
If Sarah was shocked by the man's Cardamine use she didn't show it. In actuality she'd seen far more shocking drug habits at her high school. Too much money and too much time, as her father would say. Sarah resisted the urge to share the quote with the man in front of her. Somehow it didn't seem appropriate. She mentally slapped herself for the tangent. She had to at least pretend to be awake if she wanted a chance here. Even pretending was something of an effort, she'd been awake for nearly three days straight. Her body didn't seem to regard what had happened aboard the Intervention as sleep.
Dervin elaborated on the dangers of being a Rogue, his swinging arms almost slapping the sleeping Bactrian. Sarah laughed quietly; it seemed dramatics were another entry requirement. She mentally ticked off the 'crimes' as the Rogue ran through them. Lying, Robbing and Cheating? Sarah had no problems there, as the former Captain of the CSV would attest. Slavery and Murder...... Perhaps less so. Not that she would let her new friend know that.
"You think I don't know what the Rogues are?" In truth she didn't. She patted herself on the back, putting another mental tick next to 'Lying.'
"I know what you do. I know who you are." That much at least was true. Sarah's father, knowing the risks of wealth, had made sure to educate the Engineer on the various people likely to abduct her. Still, movies glossed over a lot. "And I want in." Oh God. Sarah wished she'd thought of a better way to put it. She sounded like a comic book character.
"I've......I killed a man to get that ship." She jerked her head in the direction of Buffalo's door. Another lie. "He was the only one with the docking codes." Sarah tried to deliver the last bit in a matter-of-fact way. It came out far too quickly to be convincing, and she knew Dervin knew it.
"Fine. I didn't kill anyone. Still, I can do the rest..." She let the 'balls' comment slide. Her usual retort would involve a swift kick to the area concerned, but exhaustion and desperation stayed her hand. Or Leg.
"And I'm not going to run off. You pulled me out of that CSV. I owe you." That much, at least, was true. Despite everything else, Sarah was a woman of her word. Most of the time anyway. "Look, you're losing pilots everyday. You even told me. I can fly, I can rob." The word still felt a little odd on her tongue. It simply wasn't part of the vocabulary on upper-class Manhattan.
It wasn't like she needed the money; she'd 'borrowed' enough from the family account to live a very comfortable life several times over. She just wanted the adventure.
Sarah grinned. Well, if you're going to be assertive... "I'll be in the bar."
She brushed past the drugged Dervin, heading down the passage formerly occupied by her guard. She didn't drink, it knocked her over faster then a full-body tackle. She just wanted to move. The girl was sick of people dictating her fate. It was the very thing she'd left Manhattan to avoid. She wasn't going to let it happen here.
It was only strength of will that kept her legs moving long enough to make it to the grimy corridor. She collapsed to her knees as soon as she was beyond the Rogue's vision.
Sarah's vision returned in a throbbing blur, head pounding, children laughing. The laughter faded quickly, leaving her along on the cold floor. She briefly questioned why the corridor was swaying. In-between waves of nausea, the girl wondered how long she'd been out for. It could have been anything from minutes or days. It said something for the solidarity the Rouges shared that she was still lay where she'd fallen. The engineer attempted to heave herself into a sitting position, the pain in her head redoubling. It was as if someone was attempting to beat their way out of her skull with a sledgehammer.
Displaying an amazing strength of will, Sarah staggered to her feet, her vision still swimming.
A hulk of a CSV floated aimlessly in the Badlands, all lights long since dead. Rather then a cockpit the battered ship sported a jagged hold, generated by a Rouge 'rescue' team. The ship itself was long since dead, lacking engines or functioning on-board electronics, save one system. The Mundane Intervention's on board emergency beacon gave a final burst of static, and died. Finally allowing one last security measure to disengage. At least in theory.
A safe; guarded by shielded electronic locks, EMP emitters, microwave systems and temperatures a few degrees above absolute zero finally exhausted it's electrical supply and swung open. Or it would have, had it not been opened four days earlier.
Sarah, in a desperate attempt to save power, had unwittingly cut off several systems, one of which should never have been disturbed.
The silver safe; even with its contents gone and electronics offline bore little resemblance to any other security device in Sirius. It was slightly shabby, lacking paint, as was characteristic of Junker technology, but was no less secure for it. It glittered slightly, bare wires connecting it to the CSV's power supply.
It was also plastered with biohazard warnings.
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As Sarah McFarlen stumbled blindly towards the Rouge leader's office, depositing files, and hence to her new Greyhound, she wasn't to know that she was in possession of something no human should have had. Or perhaps, it her.
The girl shrugged, shaking off some of the dizziness. She had a lane to pirate.
// The below was conducted on Skype with Rogue (Kudos!), so some of tenses are a little off. My apologies.
Sarah might see behind her vessel a Sabre with odd tattoos over it was following her vessel, the most noticeable thing about it would be that it had a wolves head on the front.
The girl glanced behind her, the red glow of the Greyhounds engines obscuring her view. She shivered. She didn't like asteroid fields. The Sabre would keep up behind her as things start to go a bit funny in her ship as his AI hacks into her communications. "And you alas leave the safety of a CSV to join... the Rogues, Sarah."
Sarah had been meditating on the fate of a Bounty Hunter she'd shot down. She'd left his escape pod out near the California Jumpgate. The girl hoped someone had picked him up. She was interrupted by a burst of pixels across her nav-display. As was her habit, the Engineer stared at it for a moment, hoping it would correct. No such luck. Then she heard the voice. "Wha- What are you doing to my ship? Who are you?" Her voice quivered a little.
"Me... you remember the Sabre that followed you to the Rogues base don't you lass?" he paused a moment. "I wanna have a little meeting with you.... and the Names... Rouge." he took a moment the vid screen heavily pixelated. "I will meet you at Rochester."
Sarah reeled a little, she remembered bits and pieces from that time. It still came and went now and then. She had no great desire to return to those moments. The girl recalled something about a ship. She'd discarded it as wishful thinking. Surely there couldn't have been anyone there. "Rochester? Oh...Okay..." She sighed. This man knew something about her, and she needed to know what it was. Buffalo would have to wait for its loot. Sarah slid her Greyhound into formation behind the Wolf's Head Sabre.
He would go to Rochester docking on the station after some deliberation with the docking guards he would be from head to two in full black clothing his back turned as she comes in her side as he talks with the commodity dealer.
Sarah watched the man cautiously. Who did he think he was? She shivered, suddenly feeling very exposed in the old flight suit. Sarah brushed her brown hair out of her eyes. Close inspection would reveal she still sported minor burns on her neck, as well as the hair on her left side being at least half an inch shorter then its right-hand counterpart. "You still haven't answered me you know, who are you?"
In truth, she was slightly worried as to what the response would be.
He would turn around and look no older then her but he would look like a person who would have seen allot. He would look at her burns firstly as if inspecting them being silent for the moment. He wore an insignia on his left chest of the Bretonian armed forces, seventh fleet of the Battleship Derby in Leeds. "Salve." he looked over her. "Still healing I see."
She shrugged. "It's no big deal." The burns hadn't hurt her since the incident on the CSV, and at that point she hadn't really been in any state to notice or care. They did; however, serve as an admirable reminder of the dangers of loose cables.
Sarah noted the patch on his uniform. The term just seemed to fit his clothing; there was something military about the man. "You're in the military?" Sarah's hand instinctively went to her waist, the typical haunt of her weapon. Once it got there she remembered she'd left in maintenance. The girl murmured a series of most unladylike words.
He would look at her shaking his head. "Yes I am part of the Military but I was raised into the conflict." He then takes moment. "You know Taking the Rogues." he defiantly had weapons with him, two on each thigh easily accessible to him and they would seem to have a finger print scanner on them meaning they only fired from his hand.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. The man was a walking armoury, and an expensive one at that. Those pistols would have cost more then her ship. They were probably better cared for too. "Raised into the conflict? What are you doing in Liberty, then? Isn't there a war on...."
He nods. "Name a place where there's not.... and I was in Liberty because of." He'd motion to all of her. "I want to know who exactly you are and why you put the code name Rouge in the transmission, Is your father one of my friends... or mother for that matter?"
Sarah frowned, her hair once again obscuring her blue eyes. "You've been following me?" The engineer looked surprised. "I... I don't think I know you. Dad knows lots of people though, perhaps..." The girl sighed as she remembered. "No, it was an accident... I was scared." She laughed, the sound bouncing off the metallic walls, giving it an almost ghostly quality. "At least I think it was..."
Christopher nodded. "Well being a Rogue and a probably reported one at that, I believe your time in Liberty will be less then pleasant." he thinks for a moment. "It will be on your personal record... now." he took a seat down where he was.
The girl groaned, sliding down a wall. The flight suit slid up at least two inches. "Don't remind me." She didn't regret it. Life on the run might have been dangerous, but it certainly beat the tedium of Manhattan. Anyway, her father wouldn't let anything too bad happen to her. "At least I haven't killed anyone. Not sure the same can be said of you." She eyed the man's attire cautiously.
"I've ended lives in the tens of thousands so far, that was just the Omicrons." he says in a matter of fact tone. "And its only a matter of time until your had is forced and you kill some one.. And change that ten to hundreds."
Sarah's eyes widened. Who talked about death so casually? She refused to believe that you could be forced to kill someone. There was always a choice. Still she guessed it wouldn't be a smart move to argue with him. Sarah set about diverting the conversation to calmer waters. "Why the interest in me though? I'm not really anyone." She grinned. "Just a pirate."
He nods. "And I've killed for allot less then that lass." he took a moment. "As I said on your distress signal you listed it with Rouge.... That is one of my old code names when I was in the Orders black squadron, which I don't believe any of your family have been in the Black Squadron?" he raises a eyebrow. "Since I am one of the only surviving members of it." Sarah glanced around, eyeing the commodities dealer suspiciously.
"Are you sure this is right place to be talking about this?" In her house the Order was mentioned in the same breath as Rheinland, suffice to say, it wasn't exactly a positive term. If she was in the mood to believe in them at all which, often, she wasn't. Yet here she was talking to an agent. "Dad was in the Navy once.... I don't think you would have seen him." Another idea seemed to hit her. "Wait, was? What happened to them?" "Being the top dogs of the Order at the time, we were hunted down... I was a commander back then, before Suis Malacos was taken by the nomads and the Admiral Fleet was... decimated." He looked off for a moment. "I have infiltrated the Liberty Security forces in the past and you have still yet to answer, why did you use the Code name Rouge." he would step forward as if trying to get across to her it was important.
The girl slumped forward, head in her hands. This was too much. Nomads? She'd heard whispers and rumours. They were stories to frighten small children, nothing more. It finally began to dawn on her that she'd got herself into a situation that she mightn't be able to talk her way out of. "I don't know! I didn't know you existed. Why is it so important to you?"
"Why? Because it was my code name, should some one need me they use one of my call names, My Black Squadron code name was Rouge... Meaning red." he took a moment leaving forward. "I've spent a couple million on simply having tried to find you in that field, My reconnaissance cruiser was pushed to its limit." He took a deep breathe taking off his left glove showing her a tattoo of the Black Squadron. "Ever seen this before?"
Sarah recoiled from the tattoo. It triggered some fear in her that she hadn't known existed. She was afraid of it, and by extension, the man who wore it. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to get away from it. To run. With great effort, she quashed them, though she couldn't keep the tremble from her limbs. "No...No, I've never seen it!" A segment of her registered the rest of the conversation. "A..a cruiser?" It was an effort just to get the words out. The tattoo....
He nods. "That is my... outpost ship as it were." he takes a moment gloving his hand again and moving his right hand forward in a hand shake. "I'm Chris." he would seem to lighten a bit. "So It was just a misspelling?"
The girl relaxed as he covered the mark. She still viewed the man cautiously though. The young Rouge struggled to put a name to her earlier fear, it wasn't normal and she knew it. She also intrinsically knew she was powerless to do anything about it.
She moved away a little as he extended his hand, a little of the terror resurfacing. Not enough to be paralysing, but enough to ensure her own hand was shaking long before she made contact. "Sarah." She made to curtsey before realising she was still sitting down. She didn't trust herself to stand at present. "Certainly, just a mistake."
It was still a struggle to look at him, but she forced herself to do so. Some part of her knew her life depended on his not knowing... Not seeing. Another part of her questioned this sudden knowledge, but it was too fleeting an uncertainty to draw any attention from her conscious mind.
What was she? The girl almost cried... even she didn't know.
Christopher nodded and shook her hand gently as he moved his shirt to hide the guns now. Assuming a more laid back look rather then a business one. "Nice to know that if things went wrong with the Rogues, such as if they shipped you off as a Slave." he took a moment. "I already had a route and ambush set up for that to be honest.' He then took a moment. "Believe me, its not me you should be scared of. Sarah McFarlen.... your fathers looking for you, you do know that don't you?" "Got a price out for your head as well."
Sarah nodded dumbly. He'd been looking out for her? It seemed it was a popular pastime, not that she was complaining. "Err... Thanks." The shake in her limbs was fading, and she managed to stumble to her feet. "I know, someone told me. Didn't mention the price though.... I can't believe Dad'd do that..."
He nods. "I'm not here for him though; He doesn't have the cash to hire me and well... I'm more of an assassination type of guy and if you think you've got it rough, I've even got the Phantoms gunning after me." he smiles, but his demeanour coming back slowly. "Why did you leave your parents?"
Sarah grinned slowly. "I think he might have the money, then again, I don't think he's ever needed an assassin." The girl shrugged. "I didn't want to spend my life filing papers. Dad was worried about someone coming after me, so I decided to team up with the people who were most likely to." She smiled proudly, only the barest hint of a quiver present on her lips. "It's a big universe. I couldn't sleep knowing I'd only seen such a small part of it."
He shakes his head. "Such a stupid move that was, and if you find out you don't wanna be in the Rogues no more... the Rogues are basically like a gang. Your respectability goes to Zero, your job opportunities dwindle to nothing and you might get stuck with some drunken husband and pregnant at a early age.... Rogues pirate and profit off others suffering and if you ever take Cardamine, I'll tell your father." he leans forward and narrows his eyes. "You made a stupid decision not a good one."
Some of Sarah's earlier fear returned, coupled with an anger that was and wasn't part of her. She made a visible effort not to hit him. "Sure, because you're one to talk about living a respectable life. Don't you dare comment on mine!" She took a deep breath, chest heaving. Her eyes seemed to flash a deeper blue then any human eyes should have been. "Look, it was the Rouges or nothing. What do you propose; I go and join the Navy? Get myself a nice little halo? I'd be back home before you could say 'I told you so.' The Rouges are the only way I can leave home for more then five minutes.... Would you be able to spend your existence in one place? Never leaving, living in fear?"
The girl seemed to calm herself, her eyes making the barely noticeable return to their natural colour. "I want to live my own life, is that a crime?"
He nods. "When it's a life of crime and there is something you should consider." he narrows his eyes his cold demeanour back. "My growing up, I wished I had a family I wish I had that boring life you just left behind to be a petty thug, you had a choice and picked a piss poor one." He looks away for a moment. "You have no idea how privileged you really were... how many friends have you had die, because I've lost count, hell most of my friends are high ranking military personal." he looks back to her now. "Just like a normal teenager you rushed into things, as I am sure this is your life ambition... you know what I wanna be, a crafter.. But for me, I have to be in the military to be protected."
Sarah sighed. "You're wrong there. I didn't want to be a Rouge. Not initially at least, I wanted to explore, see new worlds, places other people had never set foot on. You think I'm a criminal for that? The Rouges pulled me out of a wreck when no-one else would, that's a lot more then anyone did for me Manhattan." Sarah conveniently forgot any mentions of slavery. "I can't just leave that debt. You know what I took from that trader? Food, water and clothing." She gestured to the battered green flight suit. 'It barely fits." She explained.
He shakes his head. "Few seconds longer and I would have found you first." he rubs his chin. "Stay out of the Omicrons if you explore, and I know where your getting at with the debt.. I'm currently paying off one now to the Bretonians." he looks at the cloths. "I can fix that by the way... years alone kind of leave you with free time on your hands.... and as I said... don't touch cardamine, if you want I'll tell you about it."
The young Rouge nodded in response. "Sorry... I didn't mean to offend you. It's...I don't know." She still struggled to look at the man, but the fear had faded to a gently pressure at the back of her mind. Sarah knew she couldn't mention it, even if she wanted to. "I'm planning to stay away from Cardamine at least." The girl shivered, remembering Dervin's compulsive consumption of the drug.
"Don't give into peer pressure, I had a girl who was into it.... My first and now she's dead.... its a narcotic that alters your DNA make up, the symptoms well if you don't... Just hope you never see any one suffering from withdrawal.... once you're hooked your nothing but a slave." he took a moment. "Offending me? If you had to an extent that mattered I wouldn't be here now, would I?" he runs his hands through his hair. "You wanna see what my life was like growing up.. Just so you know what you had over others... you know the saying, you don't know what you've had till you don't have it any more."
The vessel C.a.i.n was roaming the New york system. A lone Conference class gunboat. Its hull saw better days and the insides were beyond any recognition. Only one person was present onboard. It was a young woman.
[font=Garamond]"And she is gone again. Really bothersome."
Weird markings were covering most of her body. Just a large tatoo like some would say, however for that single person it was literaly everything. Mostly because it was not just a tatoo.
[font=Garamond]"Next time i see her i need to pass a locator on her ship."
Parts of that markings were even on her face and around eyes, whose color was hard to say. It changed with almost every blink.
[font=Garamond]"It makes me wonder if i shouldnt look at her ship systems."
While there was a person onboard, all systems critical for life were either offline or damaged.
Ship made another u-turn and and set its course towards northern scrap fields of New york system.
Sarah frowned, she'd heard more then enough from the Order agent. Too many people had tried too many times to dissuade her from her path. She knew he had a point; she might even pay attention to it one day. For now though; some part of her wanted to do everything he'd warned her against. Pregnancy excluded, of course. She quickly quashed the notion, cardamine was off limits. That was it.
It didn't help that her headache had returned, and with it the terror. She could barely stand to be around the man calling himself Christopher. He was a killer; she felt it in every bone in her body. The girl needed to get away from him, she could feel the fear bubbling up again, her attempts to contain it only marginally more successful then plugging a volcano with a wooden cork.
She murmured some excuse about her Greyhounds fuel lines, talking to the floor rather then the former-assassin, turning back down Rochester's bare corridors. The Engineer could feel Dangen's eyes boring into her back the whole way.
The would-be-Rogue ran as soon as she was out of his sight, the hollow echo of booted feet upon the metal floors pounding in time with her aching head.
Christopher watched her hearing her foot steps quicken as she runs away. He decided to take out his PDA and found her communications ID number as he would have done so to be.
"Not really that great when you decide to lie about something then take off, something a little girl would do." As he says this he would be moving back to his ship deciding to set up a few things not going after her.
Sarah dashed through the stations thin corridors, narrowly avoiding a group of Junkers. One of them stared at her for a moment, the light of recognition dawning in his eyes.
The Rogue was out of his sight before he could mention it. There was something about the running that calmed her, she'd run in her school team on Manhattan. Not that it was much of a team; most of the girls there had better, more expensive, things to do. Perhaps it the focus of it, a place where there was little more then pounding footsteps, a place where she could forget where she was.
As the tension left her muscles, the headache seemed to drain, leaving her simply feeling exhausted. Sarah walked to her battered Greyhound, wincing slightly. She should have remembered what happened if you ran without a warm up. Her legs would be aching for the rest of the day, no doubt.
Sarah casually flicked the airlock open, gratefully sinking into the pilot seat of the Harmless'. Like most Rogue vessels, she was more duct tape and prayers then solid engineering. The seat; however, was a different matter, apparently the Greyhound's former owner had stolen it from some Luxury Liner or another. It was probably worth more then the rest of the ship combined.
Christopher prepped his ship for a while, checking everything was secure never having trusted the Junkers. He checked everything he could before sitting in the cockpit chair of his ship taping a few buttons the screens would come to life being some advanced systems as they start the scan for any of his code names.
He wouldn't know what He'd want to do at the moment having her run off he'd have thought on what could make her so afraid of him but he figured it would be mostly him being him that she was being a tough time for her.
He closed the door and took a look around the docking bay a moment before heading off into the other sides one, unlike Sarah he would have taken the more direct route then anything else, his shirt instead of being the deathly black, it would be a red colour and he'd have dark blue jeans instead trying to look less hostile then he had appeared to be.
He stood in front of her Gray hound and tried to signal her a little bit hoping she was not going to freak out again opening the communications. "May we re.. do the whole thing over again."
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Harry Rospertson frowned, the action drawing lines across his brow. He gazed at the passing girl's chest, staring at the name tag on her flight suit. John King. Soperton's gaze changed to one of worry. He knew that man, a good friend of his. He hadn't turned up for drinks two days ago, King'd told him about some meeting with the Navy or something. The Junker spat. Damn Navy, never did anything to help his kind, so high and mighty in their Battleships.
He'd assumed that the Navy boys had taken John, they never liked Junkers. Still; this was something else. That girl wearing his suit.... Maybe she was with the Navy. She didn't look so tough. The man grinned and lumbered after her.
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Sarah glanced out her Greyhound's fog stained window. She knew it was overdue for a clean, but none of the other Rogues bothered. She was interrupted a second time by a voice over her comms.
The girl sighed, noting the mans new clothes. How on Earth did he change that fast.... She grinned, he was determined, at least. The Engineer said nothing in response instead flicking the switch to re-open the Harmless' airlock.
He would sigh a little bit as it opens and he looks around the place having not noticed or known of the man Harry Rospertson. He stood at the door for a moment before entering not being to familiar with the ship he would take a while before deciding that he would need to go up at least a little bit to get the fighters Cockpit.
Christopher was careful about how he moved and being on a ship he was unfamiliar with made him uneasy. The girl heard an uncertain clunk in the Greyhound cargo bay. Stifling a giggle, she called down to the Ex-Phantom. "Ladder's on the left. Watch out for that loot would you?"
Sarah's so called 'Loot' consisted of little more then a few helium canisters, unrefined water stored in the on-board systems and a few crates of what was presumably food. The smell, or lack thereof, emanating from them hinting that it wasn't exactly luxury fare.
The girl's attention was diverted by the beeping of her console, a familiar transponder flashing. C.a.i.n.
The A.I, at least as far as Sarah could tell (her actual form was still a little sketchy), had been the closest thing the girl had had since her escape from Manhattan, and had saved her life on at least two occasions.
It would take a while for him to get to the Ladder. "You know it's pretty damn hard not to step on your damn loot when it's all spread around the place." He climbs it slowly taking a while to look around the room then sigh moving up the rest of the way...
An amused voice drifted back to the man. "You should see it normally." She paused for a moment over her console, tongue poking out from between her teeth, a sign of intense concentration. "Why did you come back?" It sounded like the word was murmured around a spanner, the hum of electrics almost drowning her voice out. "Hold on, I need to kill the primary lights. I'm not sticking my hand in a running circuit."
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Rospertson grinned savagely as he rounded the corner, the bulk of the Greyhound dominating the hanger bay. He could make out a female silhouette in the cockpit. The girl was hunched over, hair covering her face, clearly focused on something beyond his vision. It looked like the Navy girl was working undercover.
Junker's mightn't have a learnt a lot in the ways of combat, but stealth was a different matter. Harry slid to the side of the Mostly Harmless, the angle preventing detection from above and the shadow cast by the ship ensuring no-one in the station saw. Now; to find out what had happened to his drinking partner.
He ghosted into the Rogue ship, taking cover momentarily behind a crate. It helped that the bay was a mess.
Christopher stays silent and nods watching her work for the moment, twitching his nose as if he smelt something he didn't quite like in the air but would then shrug and watch her do some electrical work on her Greyhound as he fiddled with his Holo-PDA in one of the corners so he didn't get in the way as he speaks quietly so it might be a warmer tone. "Figured you'd at least be worth the trouble."
If it weren't for the darkened cockpit, Christopher would have noticed Sarah's blush. At that moment she was infinitely glad of her shoulder-length hair. "Thanks..." She dropped the spanner, tightening a final connection. With a hum the Greyhound's lighting returned, and the console coughed back to life. "There we go." She grinned proudly. "That console hasn't been right since I got her." The girl rose from the chair; the mass of the thing seeming to absorb her meagre frame rather then cushion her.
The floor below a dark figure looked up in surprise as the Greyhounds lights returned, the shock causing him to trip over a fallen helium canister. In his bid to halt his own, rather unexpected descent, Harry Rospertson neglected the container. It hit the Harmless' hull with a ringing thud. He swore quietly.
In the cockpit, heads snapped up.
Christopher would move up quickly then move to the ladder jumping down it looking for who ever it was who would have followed him thinking it would have been for him rather then her. "Get a Gun... make sure no one comes up that ladder alright?" he'd peer around looking for the dark figure. His PDA would chirp a little but he'd ignore it for now as he focuses on the shape.
Sarah stooped low, retrieving a blocky slug-thrower from under the console. A few weeks ago she would have found the familiarity she handled the weapon with disturbing. Now it was second nature. The girl turned, focusing her attention on the access port as Dangen disappeared down it. She shook her head behind the pistol, she wasn't about to let him go down there alone. Besides, it didn't do them any good splitting up. "Fine" Sarah murmured, practically to herself. The Rogue slid down the ladder. She lacked the man's grace, catching her ankle on the final rung. Sarah crouched down, rubbing the joint. The girl bit her tongue, a serious of frustrated whispers escaping nonetheless.
From his hiding spot behind the solid ladder; Rospertson could see all of it. He took little note of the man further into the bay, instead launching himself at the Navy spy.
The Junker hit Sarah with a dull 'Ouf.'
Christopher turned around hearing Sarah's ouf and a small throwing blade extended blade would be in his hand throwing it so that it might slice at the mans Achilles, the throw would not have the best accuracy but it wouldn't hit Sarah no matter where it landed as he rush forward even as he threw the object to the Junker. "You're mine."
What made Chris even the more pissed off, the Junker hit a woman.
The woman in question swung back, blows bouncing off the larger man. A wild swing at her assailants face was rewarded with a satisfying crunch. Rospertson returned the blow threefold before pausing to clutch at his bloodied nose. "You're gonna regret that girlie!"
The man made to step towards her, only to be interrupted by an unusual sensation from his foot. The knife cut through flesh like butter, severing ligaments from bone. He dropped to his knees, his free hand attempting to hold the wound closed. Finally noticing the approaching man, he let his nose bleed, instead clutching for Sarah's dropped pistol.
Sarah herself had since stopped paying any attention at all to proceedings, a hefty blow having thrown her against a crate. Her vision faded to almost instantly, shortly replaced with a flash of brightest blue against unknown stars. Then that too faded, leaving the unconscious girl staring into the black.
Christopher threw a second one having kept a eye on the gun knowing he'd try find that, He'd of aimed his second and last throwing knife at the centre of the mans hand hoping to impale it before he could get the gun. If he gets within range Christopher would deliver a bone cracking punch, although nothing would seem to break the force of it would sound like some one had just cracked two hammers together with Sarah down Christopher would be more for taking the stranger out as fast as he can with her in danger.
The attacker screamed in pain as the second knife imbedded itself in his hand. The sound drifted echoed in the Greyhound's cramped hold, creating the illusion of at least six men on board. The cry drifted beyond the Harmless to another Junker, only just entering the bay. He'd been one of the men chatting with Harry before he darted off in pursuit of some chick. The man turned and ran, heading directly to the stations control centre.
Rospertson glanced up, a tear mingling with the blood running down his cheek. "Who are you?" "Me... I'm Just an Ex-Phantom." Before the other Junker could speak more he gets a hefty kick to the face before Chris picks up Sarah and brings her back to the cockpit laying her in the chair, he speaks into the PDA communicating with the AI. "Jim over ride the air lock... close the Greyhound's Airlock and open the stations... we're getting out of here now."
Jim just acknowledges working on the requests.
Sarah barely stirred as she was carried to the seat, more akin to a sack of potatoes then a human being. Curiously the girl's skin felt far warmer then it should have been.
The Junker barely had time to register Chris' statement before his foot impacted with the mans nose. He went down again, rational analysis of the statement well and truly out the window. Harry was far too busy trying to keep his bodily fluids inside.
Behind the Greyhound the hanger door began to grind shut, and the clamps around the Harmless showed no signs of releasing their vice-like grip, in defiance of any attempts to the contrary. Further into Rochester the Junker equivalent of a strike team was forming. More accurately it consisted of two dozen men with whatever weapons they could find. The team sprinted down the corridors, weaving their way to the trapped ship.
Christopher gritted his teeth as he saw the clamps not letting go starting he needed more time. As he went down he saw Harry still seeming conscious. "Hmm here let me help you." He strikes the mans temple hard enough to knock him out. "Night night." He'd waste no time in going to the main supplies and grabbing three fuse strips attaching them to the door of the docking bay and fusing the door together to by them some time, he'd need more then pea shooters to open that. "Jim hurry up get that bloody door open.... or we are gonna blast our way out." He moves back into the ship closing the Airlock again.
The A.I's response was punctuated by the brutal roar of a shield operating in a confined space. The video feed from the Lupus; transmitted to the cockpit of the Harmless, showed a group of five Junkers and one slightly drunk Rogue firing small energy rifles at the Sabre. The bursts bounced off the ship harmlessly; barely straining the shield's power plant.
Illusions of invincibility were shattered; however, by a roar from the hanger bay door. It sounded like the Junkers had bought more then just pistols.
Matthew Habrum, a lifelong Junker and Deputy of the security detail, stood at the head of the phalanx advancing through the breach. "Give us our man back 'ya flee-bitten idiot!"
The man fired his pistol at the Greyhound's cockpit, without shields, the round shattered the fighter's outer window, the secondary vaccum-hardned plates springing up automatically. Looted from a civilian train they weren't designed to be shot at, and were unlikely to hold up to any sustained assault.
A voice crackled from the PDA at Chris' waist. "Solution unavailable. Power diverted to shields."
Christopher at the shot would recoil covering Sarah's prone body. "You son of a." He'd power up the shields of the Greyhound quickly doing so ignoring the man once they would be up he'd drop a mine and everything would seem to go in slow motion with the kick of adrenaline setting in. "A parting gift." He would then start to try fire at the docking bay doors. "Jim... activate the Mini-Razor then punch a few howls in the wall, then before you leave let out one of the EMP mines, don't want them having the chance to come after us."
A small compartment at the back of the Harmless swung open; revealing a single deadly package.
The Ripper mine tore through toughened steel like it was paper; the docking clamps never had a chance, reduced to atoms faster then a blink. Matthew; hearing the telltale click of the mine store opening turned to run, dragging his men behind him. He managed to slide into the corridor before the mines force reached him.
One Junker wasn't so lucky, a battered remnant of the clamp pinning him to the floor. As the Greyhound's engines powered up the metal was welded to the surrounding material, leaving the man trapped underneath. The heat of the engines killed him almost instantly.
A mini razor shot sailed through the already dented hanger door, demolishing what little integrity the structure maintained. Christopher powered up the rugged ships engines; crashing through the remains of the door in a shower of shrapnel. On board the station emergency airlocks swung into place, preventing the escape of vital oxygen.
Christopher was joined by the Atra as it came along side them as he took them to basically no where being they couldn't dock on a Junker base and he wasn't about to go to a Rogue base, he sets the course for Magellan at the Freeport there leaving the ship to autopilot where he properly subdues him by trying his feet to the roof and his hands to ground letting him wake there when he does as he goes to check on Sarah, accessing what had knocked her out.
Sarah was in a world of her own, oblivious to the blood caking over the wound on her forehead. She saw ships that weren't ships and people that weren't quite people. She lost all awareness of herself as an individual, ceasing to be Sarah McFarlen; Rogue and Engineer, and become something else. She was neither here nor there, she simply was. A great sense of peace came over her and she simply contented herself to watch the spiralling stars.
Christopher sighs a little bit as he starts to say her name. "Sarah... Sarah wake up this ain't the time for a damn map... Wake up." He would shake her a little bit looking at the wound and trying to attend to it as best as he can having had to administer medical attention in the past quite alot being he was a front line soldier.
C.a.i.n was just flying around when ship with Sarah and Christopher "took off" from small station. They were in a hurry, at least that much was certain. Aigis in vail atempt to join them in formation engaged the cruise engines. That was not enough, C.a.i.n was considerably larger and less agile that most of fighters. The most Aigis could manage was staying in sensor range and atempt to comunicate...
[font=Garamond]"What is going on? We really need to talk, Sarah. Sarah, are you there? Sarah!"
However there was no response. Being just a little closer, she could scan the ship and its interior. She couldnt, not at this range, not in this situation. Any leftover power was feeded directly to engines. C.a.i.n was in space for some time and without any home or place for repairs... Ship was in overall bad condition, Aigis knew that, or better, She could feel it.
For now there was nothing else possible but follow...
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