Georgia ascended the large set of extravagant stairs, her hand tracing the golden handrail along the left-hand wall.
As she arrived at the top, the walls panned out into a rounded room, neat smooth walls made way for unnessesary decorations and trimmings. A large, floor to ceiling window showing the stunning view of Kansas. She could see the large nebula, of which she knew hid a dormant Nomad Gate, and on the right was Planet Topeka, a large beautiful gas giant.
This was the main VIP lounge of the Leavenworth, the lavish furniture and elegant paintings giving the room an elitist feel, suitable for the highest classes of Sirius.
Georgia sighed and proceeded into the room, admiring the high ceiling, detailed murals hugging the contours of the architecture.
One of the deckhands swept alongside her with a tray of drinks, offering her overpriced champagne from some exotic Zoner station deep in the Omicrons. She declined, taking a seat alone on a large sofa.
To her right, crowded together was a large bunch of Bretonian nobles, most likely related to the royal family, all chuckling to a racist joke.
To her left was a couple of rich girls, greedily chugging glass after glass of wine. One of the two Georgia recognised from the Neural-net, she was a popstar in Liberty, who had recently been involved in a scandal, something about a sex-tape of hers leaking to the public.
Georgia sighed, checking the delicate little watch on her right wrist. A rather large man hobbled over, sinking down onto the sofa beside her. His belt was struggling to keep his excessive belly under control, straining, ready to break at any moment.
"You aren't like everyone else here are you?" he asked, turning to look at her,
"I'm sorry?" Georgia turned to face him, "Have we met?"
"How rude of me" he extended a hand for Georgia to shake, "My name is Sir Thomas French"
"Georgia Brown" she smiled, shaking his chubby paw.
"You don't look like the useless sort, not like these" Thomas indicated to every other VIP in the room and chuckled, "These people are useless, disgusting, but you, you have purpose, what is it you are looking for my dear?"
"Nothing that I care to mention" Georgia sighed, sitting back into the cushions, "Just looking for someone is all"
"Well I am a business man" he beamed, "I deal in rare merchandise" he indicated to a beautiful amulet hanging from his neck, almost swallowed by his many chins.
"I sick of this search! I'd much rather spend my time doing something useful!" - Michael was speaking to himself as he was getting ready to leave the Liner, steal a ship onboard it, and travel back to Freeport 4, the proceed to Liberty in search of this Decker, "The Rogue bunch sound like my kind of people. Enjoy stealing, I enjoy killing. We have much in common." - With a crazed expression on his face Michael was laughing at his own words, imagining in his mind the horrors he went through, and the wish to share them.
"Good, I am ready to leave. Just one more thing..." - He fell on his knees, and reached under the comfortable silky bed, and pulled out his blade, "Didn't need you after all I guess." - He kissed the blade and placed it into the case.
"Now to find this Decker. I do hope he can provide me with what I need. Well, it is in his interest, if he wishes not to be dead." - Michael said as he placed the case on the floor near the bed, and went to drink the glass of water that he left on the table before.
"Captain....we have....uhmmm...several contacts approaching our position. Range 30 kilometers, speed, 350. 5 contacts Sir. What do we do?" - The navigation officer asked the captain in panic.
"Contact them Jennifer, I am sure this is nothing to worry about." - The Captain relaxed in his chair as Jennifer was trying to hail the unknown contacts in the back.
"No response Sir?" - Jennifer asked the Captain as she gave up trying to hail them, since no response whatsoever came.
"10 kilometers and closing, speed 180." - The navigator followed Jennifer's words, "They don't look to friendly Sir, entering visual range. Scanners reading 4 Barghest class ships and 1 Transport! They will enter weapons range soon! We are under attack Sir!"
"Oh my! Send a distress signal immediately! Sound off to our passengers, that we will be entering evasive maneuvers."
"Dear guests, we have encountered a possible threat, the Captain is dealing with it now. We are beginning evasive maneuvers as we speak, so you may feel a little dizzy. But please remain calm. Thank you." - Jennifer announced over the ship communication system. She tried to remain calm for the passengers, but no use, as fear and panic could be heard in her voice. The passengers didn't take her too seriously, as they believed this is just a show they payed for.
"This is strange. The girl sounded, afraid. I better go see what is going on. I dislike this ship, but I sure as hell don't want to die on it!" - Michael said as he drank the water, and pushed the case near the bed under it with his foot, and left the room.
"Sir they are jamming the frequencies! I don't have enough time to overwrite the jamming device and find a free frequency! They will be all over us in seconds." - The navigator said in dismay.
"Brace for impact." - The Captain's voice was calm, but in his head fear shaded reason.
A flurry of Infernos and EMP guns sprayed across the sheilding of the Leavenworth, the powerplant for the shield struggling under the barrage of pulse.
The main guns of the Leavenworth opened fire, not a single shot hitting the skilled bombers that circled it.
"Sir, sheilds are failing!" yelled one of the deckhands.
"More power to the sheilds, what happened to that distress signal I ordered?" Captain Anderson screamed, pacing the bridge,
"Evasive manuvers are useless sir!" the Navigator panicked,
"Goddamnit, keep trying to contact these savages, I want to know what they want" the Captain ordered, sitting back down in his chair.
The sheilds failed causing the bombers to stand down, the Pirate Transport closing in on the Leavenworth.
"What the hell are they doing?" Captain Anderson demanded,
"No idea sir, we've lost main power, sheilds and scanners. A cruise disrupter has us locked in place"
The lights flickered and dimmed in the VIP lounge, the residents had all sat down, incase the bad situation got worse.
"What on earth is going on?" Thomas questioned, attempting to peer through the shutters that had closed off the windows.
"This is not good, that girl on the Intercomms sounded frightened" Georgia said, looking to see where the waiters had gone,
"Well I'm going to make sure Daddy sues, this is terrible service!" one of the rich girls piped, huffing.
"I'll be right back" Georgia told Thomas, standing up and proceeding into the ladies.
Inside she opened her small purse and pulled out her PDA, the screen was black, a sign of a dead battery. This wasn't right, no response when she pressed the power button, and she had charged it to full rather recently, possible EMP? That explains why the lights went off briefly, must have been the backup generator kicking in.
She sighed and splashed her face with water.
In the relaxation spa, a small man sitting on the bench heard the announcements, casually, he stood up and made his way up to the main foyer, following the signs to the mooring stations.Another two men joined him, none of them shared words as they already knew what they were doing.
They passed a crowd of scared children and onto the security station.
"Sorry sir, you can't come back here unless we are moored up and you've been clear-" the security guard started, his words cutting off as one of the men lunged at his throat with a knife.
Another security guard panicked, stumbling off his chair and attempting to reach for the alarm, his arm stopped short, a knife piercing his flesh and stapling his arm to the desk. A second blade passed his throat, spraying his blood over the security station console.
One of the men pushed his body off the chair, sitting down to watch the internal cameras. The other two proceeded to move on through to the mooring areas. They reached a terminal and the larger of the two input a code, turning the lights in the area to green.
The Pirate Transport on the other side of the mooring points accepted the codes, inputting their own. Soon enough the two ships were linked, and the anxious crew of the transport were ready to board the liner.
The two men on the Liner entered one last code and watched the doors slide open. A large bunch of scruffy bandits paced on through, passing a couple of guns to the inside men.
"Ready to execute your command sir" one of them sneered, loading his gun,
A large dark man, bigger and meaner than the rest, rose up, stepping aside. He had a lit cigar in his mouth, his fingers covered in rings, his neck weighed down by chains. He smiled and puffed his cigar. This man was Decker.
"You know what to do, kill a quarter and throw the rest down into the cargohold" he cocked his own gun, puffing his cigar, "Jimmy and Petey, you are with me, we're headed to the bridge"
The rabble obeyed, over fifty of them stormed past the security checkpoint, spreading out into the foyer. Decker smiled as he heard screams and gunshots, leading Jimmy and Petey into a lift. He pressed the button for the bridge.
As they emerged from the elevator, a couple of security guards approached them, attempting to draw their guns at the sight of the criminals. Jimmy fired a spray of his machine gun, killing them both instantly.
Decker chuckled and climbed the stairs to the bridge. The captain had drawn a pistol, shifting about on the spot, he panicked and shot a round at the ground, dropping his gun in a panic. The crew on the bridge all flinched, ducking behind some consoles for cover.
"I claim this bridge and this ship as my own!" Decker announced, smiling as Jimmy and Petey appeared at his sides. The crew all rose to their feet to see what was going on, "Kill them"
Jimmy and Petey fired, killing all in their sights, spreading out afterwards to finish off any survivors.
"You two, stabilise the ship and head to these coordinates" Decker handed Jimmy a slip of paper and sat himself down on the bloodstained captain's chair.
Michael was waking up, gaining conscience as he was thrown onto the floor by an exploding power console which overloaded due to the EMP attacks on the ship's shields. He was walking down the hallway during the attack, seeing the ships through the observatory windows when the attack started.
The Barghest's fired their EMP cannons onto the ship, like four large beast of old throwing fire on their prey they quickly lowered the ship's shield, and overloaded the power generator, causing multiple power consoles to explode, one which was next to Michael. The console was starting to overload and Michael looked towards it, but it was too late, electrical sparks of a beautiful white color began spreading from the console, until finally overloading it. Shards of glass and plastic flew from it, and along with the power surge that hit Michael, they knocked him unconscious.
The last thing Michael saw before his mind going blank, was an elderly couple running in his direction. As his head hit the deck floor, and his eyes were shutting, he could hear the couple speaking, "Leave him, he is dead anyway, we need to save ourselves." Even between life and death, fury was the only feeling Michael felt, and vengeance was the only thing he wanted. They left him for dead, without even trying to help, without even seeing if he is dead.
"Ahh...My head..Arghh it hurts." - Michael was moaning as he woke up, still rolling on the floor. He had no strength in his muscles to get up, his eyes were hurting from the lights on the ceiling, and his head was bleeding from a wound just over his right eye. Michael ran his hands through his hair, slowly gaining his strength back and feeling the cut above his eye with his fingers, "Ahhh..****!" - He was saying as he slowly rose up from the floor and stood up, walking towards the near water dispenser to clear out his wound, and to refresh himself. As he was drinking the water from the dispenser, he remembered the couple that left him before he went unconscious and anger rose in him. He smashed the wall next to him with his fist, nearly breaking every bone in his arm, but he couldn't care less, as anger drew him, and suppressed all other feelings.
On the Leavenworth's bridge, Decker was enjoying his cigar in the bloodstained Captain's chair. Not caring about the Captain's lifeless body lying next to him. Occasionally he even looked at the dead body, and chuckled, as he was enjoying it.
The bridge was covered in blood from Petey's and Jimmy's cold blooded killing of the ships crew. They ripped through their flesh with the automatic guns, spraying blood all over the consoles behind them, leaving those who survived the initial shots to die in pain.
"You, get rid of all these bodies, throw them out the airlock. Take Joe with you. Clear the bridge first. I want no filthy bodies lying here on MY bridge anymore." - Decker said as he lit another cigar with his golden carved lighter. He stood up from the Captain's chair, and kicked the Captain's lifeless body with his large foot. He was wearing black boots, with leashes not bounded. His right boot had blood on it, so he kept kicking the body until he got all the blood of it.
Decker pointed to Petey and Jimmy and made a hand gesture, showing them to leave to coordinates on the paper and stabilize the ship. All was going as planned, and Decker and his thugs need not use words, as they trained for this for a long time. As one of his thugs cleared the Captain's chair from blood, Decker sat in it feeling like a king, smiling with a grin smile from ear to ear, and puffing his cigar.
Around twenty of Decker's thugs were rounding up people on the ship and moved them to Cargo Hold 1. Entering the rooms, breaking down doors, killing on sight those who even said a word. They wanted total obedience, you give them that, or they give you the bullet.
One of Decker's thugs, probably even bigger then Decker himself, he was huge, pumped up arms and the rest of the body to match it. He and one other thug broke down the door to room 987, to find a family in there. The father stood up against them with a gun, shooting the huge thug in his shoulder. Quickly did the thug ran towards him and grabbed him by his neck, lifting him an entire feet from the floor with his hand. The father was helpless, the mother and daughter were heard as they screamed to the thug to let him go. The thug didn't miss that, as he saw how beautiful the daughter was, so he threw the father on the bed, took out his sidearm, and put a cap through both his knees, leaving the man in pain, and grabbed his daughter by the neck and carried her in the room next door.
No words came from the thug, as he was bleeding from his shoulder. He closed the doors behind them and threw the girl on the bed. The father was helpless as he heard sounds of raping from the other room. The mother ran towards the door, only to meet a 20 millimeter shotgun in her face, the second thug had little doubts, and he pulled the trigger, splashing her head into million of pieces. The father was crying and screaming, unable to move, covered in his wife blood. His daughter was screaming to stop, the thug raped here, and brought her beaten up body back into the room, throwing her onto the floor, and stomping her head with his large foot, breaking her neck. Then the second thug pulled his shotgun, and blew the father's head, "That is what you get for messing with Decker. - The big one said as they left the room covered in blood.
Cargo Hold 1 was now nearly full, with approximately 60% of the passengers there, the other 40% were either dead, or being rounded up. Finally another group of thugs entered the hold bringing another 100 passengers. That circled the number to around 500, if the thugs math was correct. "Decker said 70%, we have 500 passengers here, that is 73%, so we get to have fun and kill some of them!" - One of the thugs said and the other laughed, but took him seriously, as they pulled out their sidearms and randomly shoot people in the head, until finally they killed around 30 more people, and the rest were not allowed to scream, unless they wish to join the dead ones, leaving the other passengers in tears, sorrow and fear.
Jimmy and Petey were walking down the corridor to the coordinates Decker handed them, talking to each other how great a paycheck will they receive for all these passengers. And even keep the ship if they are lucky, because despite the blood and bodies lying around, the liked the ship, a much better change of environment then the rusty old transport they always fly around in.
"**** all of them! I'm gonna rip their guts out!" - A voice was heard down the hall, and the two thugs cocked their guns and proceeded carefully down the hall. It was Michael, screaming and yelling in anger. And the two thugs decided to overpower him, and carry him to Cargo Hold 1, so the other boys can do whatever they want with this one.
As they approached Michael, he sighted them, quickly readying himself for a fight, and as they approached Michael head butted on of them in the chin, breaking his jaw and knocked him on the floor. But the other thug smashed Michael's head with his gun, and Michael fell down onto the floor, next to the thug with the broken jaw.
The thug stood up, and kicked Michael in the chest and stomach with his legs. Michael started to spit blood and grasped in pain for them to stop. His anger rose in him, making him stronger, as he rolled away from the thug, quickly stood up, and smashed the thug with the broken jaw with the fire extinguisher he took from the wall, hitting him in the head and knocking him on the floor again. But he was a big one so he got up quickly as the other thug restrained Michael for the other guy to hit him, "Oh Decker's gonna have so much fun with you boy! I hope he kills you good!!"
As Michael heard this name, he snapped from the pain he was in, and shouted "Stoppppp!!!!" - leaving the two thugs in wonder, "Decker? The Decker? I need him! I want to do business with him! I'm on this ship because I wanted to find him!"
"Find him? And do what? Kill him?" - One of the thugs asked as he punched Michael in the chest once more.
"Don't be stupid as you look....Ahhh." - Michael groaned in pain, "What could I possibly do alone to Decker? Contact him! Tell him I need a shipment of LiCad! I'll pay 100 grand over the usual 50 for a milligram!"
The thugs were left in wonder, but the amount of money Michael mentioned draw their attention, as they hailed Decker, "Boss, we have a guy here, says he wants some LiZad from you."
"LiCad fool!" - Michael interrupted him.
"LiCad, sorry Boss. He says he'll pay double for it, 100 grand per milligram of that thing." - The thug asked as no response came whatsoever, Decker was thinking, but not for long. What could a single guy do against his army, and 100 grand per milligram of LiCad is a deal of a lifetime.
"Take him to his room, and guard him. I will meet with him." - Decker said as he puffed his cigar, and blew the smoke into the communication console, causing static. He turned off the communications before the thug could answer him.
Georgia ran her brush through her hair, stroking it with her hand. Satisfied she slipped it back into her purse and ironed out the creases in her dress with her hand.
The lights flickered again, there was a blood curdling scream followed by some shouting, a second later she could hear machinegun fire. A few shotgun blasts later and there was silence again.
The door burst open, an armed thug in the doorway. He cocked his shotgun, and paced forward. Raising his shotgun he kicked open the first cubical door, moving along the rows, he kicked each one open, checking for survivors.
Nothing.
He placed his shotgun carefully on the sink, undoing his flies and moving into the cubical. He sighed, the lights in the bathroom flickered again. As he began to whistle, the lights dropped, shrouding the room in darkness.
He cursed loudly and fumbled around for the sink, he grabbed his shotgun and scurried off in the direction of the wall with the light switch. He bashed his hand against the wall, misinterpreting the distance. He swore again, feeling along the tiles for the switch.
His foot hit something, a small rounded item on the floor. He reached down curiously picking it up and feeling it with his fingers. It was a shotgun shell, confused he pumped his shotgun, dreading the sound of the empty chamber.
He fumbled with the shell, loading it and pumping once. He turned to where he predicted the sinks were, firing off blindly, in the flash of light from the muzzle, he saw a girl. A butterfly knife in her left palm, ready to strike, he attempted to scream.
"What the hell are you shooting at in there?" yelled the other thug from the VIP lounge,
The doors swung open and he turned to see Georgia, she fired a single shot before he could raise his gun, throwing him backwards over the sofa with a satisfiying spray of blood.
The room was thus devoid of life, the rich boys in the corner had tried to run, their bodies sprawled over the furniture. The rich girls had been the first to go down, not even moving from their spot. The business men at the table on the far side of the room had tried to use each other as sheilds from the bullets, failing in doing so.
Georgia dropped the 12-Gauge and dropped down beside the artifact dealer, checking for a pulse. She found none, though the holes in his belly and chest explained that.
She tugged at the chain around his neck, pulling off the amulet. She cursed again, throwing it aside. A fake.
Georgia pulled out his room key instead, folding his arms across.
"Sorry Mr French" She sighed, "I didn't see this coming..."
She fumbled through the pockets of the thug she had shot, finding nothing but ammo and cigarettes. No clue as to the random display of violence.
Georgia checked the number on the door key, hurrying along to the far exit to the lounge.
She rushed down the stairs, pressing her back against the wall again, at the corridor below she peered round to the right, nothing. She heard talking as two thugs passed her, running off somewhere to the ship's lower decks.
Georgia darted across the hallway, to a second flight of stairs, following them down to a different set of Luxury suites. She followed the room doors along, counting as she went.
024, 025, 026.... 027! She had found it. Georgia swiped the magnetic key, nothing, noticed the gap in the door, pushing it open. The door was already ajar.
She took one last glance down the corridor on both sides before slipping in unnoticed.
This room was larger than hers, designed either to facilitate multiple people, or a very fussy individual. Georgia gripped her knife tighter, making her way over to the dining area. Nothing, a few plates laid out ready for a grand dinner, but no sign of life.
She made her way across the hall to the bedroom, pushing the door open as she went. The room was largely empty, a few clothes on the bed left unfolded, an empty shotgun shell on the ground by the bathroom door.
Georgia pushed herself against the door again, peering round to check for lifesigns. She saw the bathtub, filled with water, red water. Seems like Sir Percy's wife hadn't been lucky at all, her lifeless body leaning back lazily in the tub, shotgun wound in her chest clarifying the situation.
Georgia coughed, backing away towards the bed. She sat down on the edge, taking a deep breath. Across from her on the dresser was a bust, designed to hold jewelry when the owner slept, or took a bath for that matter. Sure enough, hanging around the bust was one of the finest amulets she had ever seen.
Georgia approached it, touching it with her index finger gently. It was warm, not residual heat though, it responded to her touch, assuring her it was active. Georgia squealed and snatched it up, admiring it closer. It was an artifact of course, looked like a simple jewel to anyone else.
She pocketed it and slipped back out of the room, grabbing a small tourists map of the Leavenworth from the counter.
The two thugs were carrying Michael into his room, Room 313. Each of them placed one of Michael's hands over their shoulder, occasionally hitting him in the ribs with their elbows, making Michael cough up blood from his lungs. He was beaten, little could he do to resist them.
The thug with the broken jaw moaned all the way to Room 313, what caused Michael to laugh at him despite the pain he was in himself. As they moved slowly through the hallways Michael nodded towards the Room 313, as a sign that this was what they are looking for. They opened the door with Michael's magnetic card instead of the usual bashing through the doors. They entered the room and threw Michael on the floor, with one of the thugs kneeling next to him, to tie his hands together, so he posses no threat.
The two thugs sat on the chairs near the table in the middle of the room, admiring the room itself, and wondering how a mess up like Michael was ever able to get it. They laughed at each other jokes spiting all over the room while laughing, trying to shorten the time until Decker comes to meet Michael.
Little did they know that Michael was pretending to be unconscious with his head downed, and his hair covering his eyes, blood was slowly but steadily dripping from his wound over his eye in between his legs, creating a small puddle. He was leaned to the side of the bed, with his legs stretched in front of him. His hands were tied behind his back with a plastic rope, so he was unable to use them in any other way but pulling the sheet that was under the bed with them.
Slowly did he pull the sheet, careful not to show any movement that the two thugs could notice. When his fingers grasped the case his blade was in, his mouth widened into a smile, but no sound was made. With careful movements did Michael open the case, feeling the cold blade in it. Every second seemed like eternity to Michael as he was trying to cut the plastic rope with the blade, until finally a quiet sound was heard, the rope bursted, and his hands were free. Still, he showed no movement as he grabbed the blade from the case.
The thugs were still laughing, and talking to each other what they will do with their cut of the ransom. Enjoying the whisky that they found in Michael's locker in the kitchen. The one with the broken jaw was trying not to laugh and talk, while holding a piece of mop on his face to stop the bleeding. Their eyes were not fixed on Michael, and their attention was nowhere in the room, their minds wandered, and Michael knew that.
He took the blade in his right hand causing the blade to cut Michael's palm, as the blade had no handle, it was simply ripped from the armor to be used like this. No sound came, as the blade cut more deeply into Michael's flesh. He stood up, and the thugs still didn't notice him, until finally the one with the broken jaw noticed him, and started screaming with the mop over his mouth.
"What is it dumb ass?" - The other thug asked, as Michael was standing in his full height across the room, looking at them with a maniacal look in his eyes. Blood dripped down the blade to the floor, but still no sound of pain came out of Michael, as he didn't even feel it, it was suppressed too deeply to be felt, replaced by anger, hatred, lust and greed.
In several fast steps Michael ran towards the thug, raising his blade and stabbed him through his neck, spraying blood all over the other thug, what caused him to fall over his chair, screaming in terror. He started shaking, as Michael's blade went through his nervous system, and as Michael twisted the blade, the thug was flinching and shaking, he was Michael's pet. As he was holding the blade in his neck, the thug's eyes were rolling over, no color was seen, only red and white in them, until finally his eyelids close. Michael looked at the other thug that was on the floor, and retracted the blade from the other one's neck, causing him to fall on the floor. He looked at the guy that was still alive.
"I made a promise once." - He said as he looked at the blade covered in his and the thug's blood, "To myself." - He paused a little, "No one will ever lay a hand on me. And I intend to keep it."- Michael said as he slowly walked towards him, he was unable to get up, fear, terror even caused this. As Michael approached him the thug began crawling backwards until he had no place to go, he was cornered in a wall, and Michael approached him, kneeled next to him and leaned the blade to his neck.
Inch by inch he cut through his skin, enjoying every bit, "Tell me, where is Decker, and I might leave you alive." - He asked him, as the thug removed the mop from his mouth and said, "The bridge." - Barely understandable but Michael knew where he must go. He stood up, and just as the thug thought he was going to stay alive, with one swift strike, Michael stabbed him in his heart, "See you in hell." - He said as he twisted the blade and showed it deeper into his body, causing massive bleeding, and instant death. Step by step he left the room, closing the door behind him, and started running towards the bridge.
On the bridge Decker was wondering why Michael wanted the LiCad, and how he found out that he is probably the only guy that knows where to get it, and more importantly, how to produce it. Nonetheless, 100 grand per milligram is a deal of a lifetime, too good to just let go without checking it to be true.
After spending a few minutes in wondering, he stood up from his chair. The rest of his thugs on the bridge took care of the bodies, and the blood there, so they will be able to take care of things until he is back.
"Joe, Big, come with me, we may get more out of this then we originally thought." - Decker said as he rose his hands covered in jewelry and placed a cigar in his mouth, and lit it with his golden lighter.
The three proceeded of the bridge into the elevator, pressing the button for the lower decks in it. Decker was enjoying this, as he knew the entire ship is his, or so he thought. Every deck, every room is under his control. He enjoyed the power he felt, it made him feel immortal.
As he reached the designated deck, the three of them proceeded into the corridor, once again Decker puffed his cigar, and blew the smoke into one of his thugs, "Lets go make some money shall we?" - He laughed and walked towards Room 313.
Georgia followed the blue arrows on her tourist's map, attempting to find a comms terminal. She rounded a corner, back pressed against the wall to spot for thugs.
Nothing.
She proceeded out into the small gift shop plaza, checking the map again, to her right should be a working comms terminal. And there it was, mounted on the wall to her right. She smiled and approached it, before she could activate it, she heard voices.
"You two, split up and check the plaza, I'll go meet up with Jimmy and Petey down in the 300s"
"Sure thing boss" a low voice replied,
Two more armed thugs passed Georgia, checking the few bodies on the floor and making sure they were alone. She kept her breathing quiet and her back pressed firmly to the support pillar.
"Nothing here" a slightly higher voice squeaked, the other agreed and they both descended the stairs to reception.
Georgia slipped out from her cover and checked her surroundings, she input the codes she wanted into the Comms terminal and prised off the override button with her knife.
"He said 300s, that must be room numbers" she pondered, glancing up at the directional signs,
The signs for 250-400 lead her down another wide corridor, opening out into a large complex of hotel rooms, with another reception desk in the middle.
"Luxuria?" a voice from somewhere near questioned,
Georgia turned on the spot, startled to hear that name,
"Decker..." she hissed, laying eyes on him,
"Hiding behind the rags of the regular I see..." he sneered, "I said I'd kill you for what you did to my brother, and I see my chance right now"
"Decker please-" she started, hearing a crunch behind her, a foot on broken glass.
She spun on the spot, lashing out with her knife, left, right, left, she slashed, finally thrusting out at the thug. He gasped and stumbled over backwards, the momentum carrying him over a balcony and down a level to his demise.
Georgia snapped up his shotgun, checking the reception area again for Decker, he had disappeared, and she could hear more thugs. She took up cover behind a statue, peeking out across the corridor.
Sure enough a small group of thugs arrived, hopping up and down in excitement. She let them get closer, and closer still. Her gun would only be effective if they were close. She counted five as they passed her, unaware of her presence.
"Huh, I guess-" one thug started, his words cut off as Georgia shot him cleanly from behind,
One of the smaller thugs panicked, shooting his submachine gun into his friend, startling the remaining two thugs, they turned their guns and shot the smaller thug, without identifying thier target. Georgia shot one of the two, moving to get behind some cover.
The last thug fired from the hip, his assault rifle failing to hit the small Bretonian. He swore and dropped his clip, fumbling around for another. Georgia took her shot and charged him, thrusting the knife into his chest and using her own weight to topple him over onto his back.
A loud sound and a sharp pain, she reached down, feeling her stomach. She felt numb, her hands painted with her own blood. She fell to her knees, grunting as she reached for her gun.
"I win this time Luxuria" Decker hissed from behind her, his pistol still smoking from the shot,
"That isn't... my name..." she hissed, her hands going cold.
She relaxed, falling to the ground, her world going black...
Gunshots were heard in distance, they moved through the air as quick as lightning, and as soon as Michael heard them he stopped as something hit him. The gunshots were coming from the direction he was heading away from, so he stood there listening to the gunshots, counting them.
No screams were coming, either someone is a very good shot and a swift killer, or it is to far away to hear it. The decision was ahead of him, to go away from the gunshots, and towards the bridge, or to head back. The decision was an easy, Michael snapped from his confusion, and started to walk away from the shots.
But suddenly, another lone gunshot was heard, different from the others. Silence occurred, and with no obvious reason, Michael turned around, stood there, and focused his look towards the gunshots. Something drew him in that direction, an unknown feeling, his heart was filled with a strange feeling that he never felt before, his mind was clouded by darkness, yet a tiny spark of hope was lit in his mind, a strange urge drew him in the direction from where the gunshots came. Step by step, Michael started walking towards the sounds.
"Vengeance is mine Luxuria!" - A powerful voice was heard in the distance, Michael could not see who the man is, but he saw a large black figure kneeling over dead bodies, and slowly rising up. As he turned around Michael saw his face, he did not forget the man from the video feeds that he saw in the datapad. He knew it was Decker. He was bigger, and meaner then Michael thought.
"Decker!" - Michael yelled from the top of his lungs, as he was walking towards him. Still the blade was cut into his palm, and blood was following Michael's steps. Decker noticed him, and rose his gun aiming at Michael's head, "Put the gun down you big ****. You want cash, I want LiCad."
"I should blow your brain out just for that boy. But, I do like cash." - Decker said to Michael, still aiming at his head. Michael noticed that Decker had a gunshot wound, but it wasn't affecting his body, it is like he didn't even felt the pain. Blood was flowing from it all over his body, but he didn't care.
"100 grand for 1 milligram, that should pay off for you pretty well, now won't it?" - Michael yelled as he was getting closer to Decker, one step at a time. Observing his environment, dead bodies lying on the floor, one, two, three, four Michael was counting in his head, trying to understand and see if he has any advantages if it comes to a fight, "Why I need it, it is of no concern to you. Get it for me, you get payed. Simple as that."
"I can do that boy. But remember this, you screw me up, you end up like this." - Decker said as he kneeled next to a body, a small body with long hair, a female Michael thought, "She messed with my family, so I messed up her extensions." - He said as he turned over the lifeless body, and Michael gazed his eyes on the most beautiful creature in the universe, lying on the floor, helpless, lifeless. Her eyes were still open, as she is not dead, and were looking straight into Michael's eyes. Beautiful brown hair tainted with blood as it reflected the light from the ceiling and the darkness of space. So innocent, so beautiful.
Michael's mind began falling apart, it traveled into past, remembering what need not be remembered, once again showing him how much he suffered. But this time, he felt love, passion, care, friendship, beauty of the soul. His Angel, that saved him on New London, the one being that ever showed him respect, and love, was lying helpless on the floor in front of him, begging him to help her.
Her hands soft as angel feathers, skin pale as the color of the stars itself. An Angel. Michael stared into her eyes, looking her, loving her. Until finally he managed to speak, tears were in his eyes, he was shaking, not from drugs, not from fear, but from love, as the emotion that left his heart long ago, traveled back into it by the speed of light.
"You.....You did this? Tell me, is this your doing?" - Michael asked Decker while still looking at the lifeless body on the floor.
"You bet, and I tell you, screw me up, you'll end up like this." - Decker replied to Michael as he stood up from the ground, holstering his gun as he saw Michael as no threat any more.
"I....I....My Angel." - Michael said with a quiet voice, falling on his knees, his blade sounded off on the floor, his hand covered in blood. He placed his hands over his head, wiping his tears away, and covering his face in blood. He looked at his hand, and with his other hand crossed over his face, only to see the blood on it. In the blood he saw his Angel dying, in his mind all that he could see is her calling him from the abyss to come and save her.
Tears fell down on the floor. Once again he picked up his blade, cutting his hand even more, he stood up, and before Decker could reach for his gun Michael stabbed him through his chest, aiming for his heart, but he missed. With one quick and strong punch Decker threw Michael against the wall as he screamed with pain touching the blade that went through his chest.
He didn't dare to take it out, as he knew he would bleed to death. Michael found himself on the floor, spitting blood from his mouth, his ribs were broken. How can one man do that much damage with one hit. As a tall black dragon Decker stood over Michael, refusing to take his gun and end Michael's life, he wanted to kill him with his bare hands. He picked up Michael from the floor with his hands, raising him above his head and throwing Michael into the wall on the other side.
Michael couldn't defend himself. But then, his eyes looked at his Angel, he lost himself in the blue lagoon that are her eyes. Strength returned to him, and Michael once again stood up, ready to fight the beast. He swung at Decker, hitting him in the head, on which he barely flinched. Once again Michael hit him with all the power he has left. That punch shook Decker and made him mad, so he grabbed Michael's hair, and kicked him in the head with his knee. Michael stumbled backwards. That punch could have struck down a wild boar, but Michael was guided by far more then just human strength, love drew him further, as he jumped on Decker punching him several times on the head with his elbows.
Decker shook Michael off him, and he was bleeding, what angered him even more. He drew the blade from his chest out, and despite that he should have bleed to death, no blood dripped, as if the blood was afraid of Decker as well. He started to walk towards Michael to end his life.
"My name is Kurtis Driscoll, no man has ever succeeded in killing me" he laughed, gripping the blade tightly, "No man can kill me!"
He raised his blade ready to kill Michael in one fatal strike. Then it hit him, a shotgun blast to the back. Being the big man he was, he didn't fall too fast, he simply swayed on the spot.
He groaned and tumbed foward, collapsing before he could strike at Michael.
There, with a shotgun in hand, stood Georgia Brown.
"And no man did kill you" she smiled, dropping the gun.
She clutched her wound and dropped to her knees, leaning herself up against the receptionist's desk. Michael groaned as he heaved himself up and hobbled over.
"My Angel... you-" Michael began, holding her hand for comfort, he could hear more shouting, a gunfight in the distance,
"You better get going, I called the Navy..." she smiled, passing him her butterfly knife.
Michael pocketed the small knife as she kissed him gently on the cheek, he slipped away down a flight of stairs. Almost immediately after, a team of armed Navy personel arrived at the top of the flight of stairs on the opposite side of the room.
They panned out, checking the bodies, guns at the ready.
"We have a survivor!" the fire team leader called,
"Gunshot wound, someone get a medic up here!" one of his men called out,
"Miss? Miss? What is your name Miss?" he questioned,
Michael was running down the stairs, occasionally looking back to see if someone followed him, no one was there, neither the Navy fire teams, nor the one person he wouldn't mind seeing, his Angel. His mind was being ripped apart as he was denied the reason to see if this was a dream, or just harsh reality.
Is it possible, he wondered himself in his mind and his heart, as he jumped of the stairs and continued to run through the corridor. It cannot be, the world deprived him of his love, taking her away from him in the past, she cannot be alive, she cannot even still care for him. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, wondering where he is, his mind was playing with him. Michael then noticed the butterfly knife in his bleeding hand, and he stared at the knife for a while, not being able to move, or not wanting to move.
Yes, it was all true, she was here, she kissed him, Michael remembered, now clearly seeing what happened, and hearing the Navy fire teams behind him even more clearly. He snapped from the dreaming state, and slowly quickened his pace, not being able to run right away, as his body was wounded, every muscles suffered from the battle with Decker. They were gaining on him, only one or two soldiers from what he could tell by the noise they were making. Shots, curses, yelling, screaming could be heard behind him, the Navy fire team encountered some of Decker's thugs, losing one, killing three. Michael didn't stop, his life depended on it, he ran as quickly as his feet could carry him. Michael knew where he needed to go, but will he manage to get there, before they catch him, is a thought that crawled into his mind from the deepest shadows of it. Suddenly, a voice was heard.
"You there citizen! Stop!" - The fire team behind Michael shouted at him, ordering him to stop. Michael did not turn around, he didn't want to show his face to the Navy officer, as the security cameras on Freeport 4 surely identified him as the killer in the men's room, "Put your hands behind your head and slowly turn around!" - Again the officer shouted as he was approaching Michael. Only one of them, Michael assumed by the sound of his footsteps. He rose his hands in the air, slowly adjusting the butterfly knife in his hand, to gain a reflection on it, on what was happening behind him.
As the knife reflected the officer in the back, Michael knew he had the advantage of surprise as the officer will not expect an attack on him. But Michael questioned his logic, perhaps the officer doesn't even know about Michael killing the man on Freeport 4. There is a low possibility that the officer knows that, and Michael knew that, raising his hands behind his head. But, suspicion rose in his mind as the officer approached him. If the catch him, he will never be able to see his Angel again, nor Caroline, nor his armor that was slowly slipping from his thought. All that is good in his life will be lost, and the thought of that was unbearable to Michael.
"I am sorry Angel." - Michael said in a silent voice as he lowered his arms down, and bowed his head. With a quick crouch turn he threw the butterfly knife straight into the Navy officers neck, cutting his arteries and dropping him onto the floor. The officer fell, dropping his gun next to him, and putting his hands on the cut, but no use, as blood sprayed like a fountain, and he bleed to death in the time it took Michael to pick up the knife and reach for his gun. Again Michael was on the move, he studied the Liner's schematics before he infiltrated it, and Landing Pad 1 was awaiting him. He knew the thugs probably landed in that hangar, as it is the biggest one.
Michael was approaching Hangar 1 in a hurry, limping all the way, leaving a bloody trail behind him. He knew a battle will surely be awaiting him in the Hangar, as it is certainly still occupied by Decker's thugs. He stopped near the entrance to catch his breath, and trying to listen through the blast door, in hope he will hear some noise inside. Nothing, no gunshots, no screams, nothing, pure silence.
Michael prepared himself, moving his hair away from his face, to clear his view, although blood fouled it. The butterfly knife in one hand, his blade in the other, as he punched the console with his foot to open the doors. The image there would surprise even the most optimistic of people. Nothing, no thugs, no Navy fire teams, no boarding parties, nothing, silence, and 2 old ships stinking the place up. The Pirate Transport, most likely Decker's flagship, and one Barghest, Michael's getaway vessel.
Michael blocked the blast doors to the hangar by blowing up the locking console, nothing will get in or out now, unless carrying ten pounds of explosives. The Barghest awaited him, as a foul beast of steel, the dragon that will take him to safety, and into a new beginning.
"Time to leave this forsaken place." - Michael said as he was climbing the landing platform leading to the Barghest, when it suddenly hit him, "Michael you stupid ****! LiCad!!!" - He forgot about the power crystals for his armor. But luck served him well lately, as Decker's Transport was in the same Hangar. Michael jumped from the Barghest's landing platform to the Transport's, nearly falling down into his death. Greed, hunger and lust for power got the best of him and nearly cost him his life.
He approached the Transport's doors, and they were locked with a code. And just as it seemed that his luck abandoned him, he felt the gun he took from the Navy soldier rubbing his back, "Thank you Navy Man." - Michael said as he drew the gun and shoot the coded lock, but the door wouldn't open, "Oh for ****'s sake!" - Michael yelled in anger and fear as he knew any minute someone could come bashing through the door. So he thrust his blade in the middle of the door, pulling with all his power, somehow managing to open the broken down door.
He entered the Transport, lurking around in it, trying to find the place where he would hide something of that value. Finally he found a chest in the Captain's quarters, and within the chest, a small bag made out of the finest material, possibly even Corsair Cotton. Bingo, he found what he was looking for. Enough LiCad to power the armor for at least 1 000 hours.
Quickly did Michael exit the Transport, jumping onto the Barghest landing platform, being more careful this time and measured his jump. No coded doors on the Barghest, and luck served Michael yet again, as he had no strength to force open yet another blast door. The Landing Bay doors opened as Michael powered up the engines, and opened the door from inside the ship. Space awaited him. Darkness is always out there, waiting for him. But Michael had another purpose in life, despite his wish to share his everlasting pain with others, a light was to be searched, the light that will always shine in Michael's heart, and never will he stop searching for it. He took the route through the Jump Hole to Magellan, and found himself on Freeport 4 and onboard his ship in a short time. The armor was already being powered up, as Michael undocked from the station, in search for his Angel.
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