The shuttle was swallowed up by the Badlands, the pilot activating the shuttle headlights to aid him in the difficult task of avoiding the shard-shaped rocks. The Liberty Rogues picked a good spot to hide a station, Doctor Axel von Fischer remarked in his mind. Although it was a bit too obvious that something would be lurking in the cloud - you couldn't look out a window while traversing the New York system without seeing the dark matter cloud sucking in all of the light like a black hole.
Fischer rarely made house calls. He was after all not a doctor of medicine, but one of science; science which involved mass-murder. But he'd heard the call from Smeagle for help and had decided to take advantage of the poor man's desperation for his own means. Securing Smeagle's willingness to perform a favour for him in the near future may benefit him greatly one day. Say, if he needed a place to hide. Or a person killed.
He had chuckled at the man's message to the stars. Promising to change his ways? Fischer didn't want that at all - why would he want a favour from a goodie-goodie citizen repenting his sins away with futile prayer and pleads for forgiveness. What could he do for Fischer then - help him with his taxes?
'We are approaching the station,' the pilot informed him, not turning its eyes away from its task. Or should Fischer think of its eyes as sensors? The bodyguard had been with him for over a year, and in that time had proved itself invaluable. He need not fret about security when his bodyguard is with him.
'Gutt,' Fischer replied. 'Park the ship behind one of the rocks and send it the message. Get ready to engage cruise in case Smeagle doesn't have as much pull with the Rogues as he suggested in his message.'
'At once,' the bodyguard responded. It seemed to have been experimenting with different affirmative responses over the last few months. Fischer hoped it didn't mean the machine was developing any sense of free will. He felt the ship's nose bank sharply upward, the ship's artificial gravity making it feel as soft as an elevator coming to a stop. He heard the bodyguard pressing buttons from the cockpit, and imagined the message appearing on the computers in Buffalo's docking area.
'I am Doctor Fischer. My presence was requested by Smeagle. Requesting permission to dock.'
'Do you think it'll work Fischy?' The other "man" in the room with him asked.
'I'm not bothered either way.' He didn't like speculating on probabilities.
The voice of a Rogue broke through the silence on Fischer's transceiver.
"Buffalo to Fischer, Requested personal has already left the station in a pod."
Smeagle's pod flew towards the Doctor's ship. The ruined soul that resided within the small craft was close to dieing. He turned on the terminal and spoke to the Doctor.
"I'm in a pod. Tractor me in.. And thank you, doctor."
Thank you. Thinking about how many times he'd heard that phrase said to him, he realised it was remarkably few. He realised that Smeagle trusted him to pick his pod up - and he had the urge to abuse that trust. Leave him to die. It'd certainly be amusing. Fischer had learnt quickly in life that putting trust into somebody else in many cases led to death.
The pilot remained silent at the controls, awaiting instructions.
'Well Fischy, aren't you going to tractor him in? It's rude to keep somebody waiting you know.'
Fischer sighed, and spoke clearly a command to the pilot. 'Tractor the pod in. Let's see what we have.' The pilot turned the ship to face the nearest trade lanes, began charging the cruise engines and tractored in the pod.
'Pod secured, Doctor. Tractored into cargo hold five, current status: unopened. Cargo hold pressurising, pressurising, pressurised.' Fischer and his acquaintance had already departed from the small section for passengers behind the cockpit and moved through the bowels of the ship toward cargo hold five.
The pilot continued speaking to itself. 'Pod opening. Pod opening. Pod open.'
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
Smeagle crawled out of the pod and slumped himself against the wall. He sat for a moment, holding his stomach in pain. He had not eaten for quite some time, and was beginning to look emaciated. He pulled out a small medical kit from the pod and sat back down against the wall. Smeagle put a liquid inside the needle and punctured himself in his abdomen. He relaxed for a moment, then tried to stand. At first he fell, but then was able to balance himself appropriately. He opened the door and saw the doctor and company walking towards him. Smeagle waved a bit and slowly approached them.
"Hello, Doctor.. Sorry.. I'm.. A bit.. Out of breath. Just.. Just.. So much pain.. Can we hurry this up?"
During the brief walk down to cargo hold five, the pilot scanned its data core for instructions in the scenario currently playing out. 'Instructions found: Guest scenario.' It accessed the security cameras for cargo hold five, each camera equipped with a laser gun, and pointed their electrical eyes at the guest.
Fischer and his acquaintance reached cargo hold five shortly after the shuttle had cleared the Badlands. The shutters over the windows re-opened and allowed natural light to flood the corridors once more. Fischer much preferred artificial light: its intensity he could control.
Ships were his natural environment because it was entirely man-made. He could control everything, from temperature to gravity. He could be in a sweltering desert heat at the push of a button. Or turn gravity up six hundred times above the normal in sections where people he didn't like were situated. God had no control is his ship.
Cargo hold five possessed no windows, so the light was under his control once more. As he and his acquaintance proceeded down the steps to the pod, they watched Smeagle inject himself in the stomach, gather his strength, and walk toward them in an obviously painful motion.
'Hello, Doctor.. Sorry.. I'm.. A bit.. Out of breath. Just.. Just.. So much pain.. Can we hurry this up?'
Fischer knew how pain made formalities seem utterly pointless. He had no intentions of making Smeagle suffer further. He'd need to treat the man with respect, and in all honesty he saw no reason not to. He was a man like him, although his methods of murder were a little more conventional but also tried and proven.
'Of course. Mack, please could you carry our guest to the infirmary?' He found that if he treated his acquaintance, the entity which had entered his mind on the Mandate of Heaven, with respect and made him sound involved he would generally obey his commands. It had taken a few months before he could remove the entity, which had called itself "Mack the Knife", from his head and put him in another human body. He chuckled at the thought of him and Smeagle becoming the best of friends in murder.
Mack picked him up without a word or even recognition of carrying a fairly large weight and moved back up the stairs toward the infirmary. Fischer followed closely behind, already hearing Mack introducing himself as they proceeded through the bowels of the ship. The bodyguard watched their progress on the cameras.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
Smeagle lie still on his bed, unable to move. There were several tubes attached to him, including an IV. Though, the substance he was receiving was still not known to him. The former cannibal opened his eyes slightly. He saw a glimpse of Mack walking by the door waving to him. Smeagle tried to wave back, but he could barely lift his arm. An assistant came in the room to check up on him shortly afterwards.
