It was dark. That much was for sure. He didn't recall what had happened, but last thing he knew he had been on the BMM Mining ship Morely. He heard shallow breathing all around him, the breathing of the unconscious.
Blinding light poured through a rectangle as shadows moved quickly into the dark space, cumbersome objects that a distant part of his mind labeled 'guns' in their hands. He was hoisted to his feet by two, and noticed similar happenings going on around him. An aged man walked into the room as the lights came on, revealing men in green uniforms with shocking red hair and hard faces. The old man regarded them with a stern look, then patted a somewhat younger girl on the shoulder.
"Ye done good, Katie me girl," he said with a lyrical accent. "Aye, these will make fine."
They left, and the men in green uniforms hauled them to what appeared to be a cell block. They were dumped unceremoniously, one per cell.
We got ten o' yer employees that we lifted off one of your miners! We're demandin' ten million credits fer their safe release, or some accidents may start happenin', am I clear? I know you lot don't like dealing with terrorists like this, but custom dictate I make this demand regardless. You don't have much time to think about this, y'hear?
Son of a female dog! Scramble all chairman seats! *BMM hastily assembles 2 chairmans, 5 are missing waiting for the afternoon tea*
John Mycroft the current vice underpresident opens the sealed envelope and reads the report on the worknapping.
"WHAT! They want 10 milion for 10 workers? Give me a brake, mrs. Shields, what is the going rate for workers?"
"Sir Mycroft, the going rate is 255 Credits and 60 pence."
"That's what I thought. Get me the files on the said 10 workers."
*she opens up files on the poor workers, Mycorft takes about 12 seconds to review all 10 files*
"It would be appear Mollies are actually saving Her Majesty some credits. Yes workexpenses went down last week, so since these 10 workers are slacking off upon that Molly base, we should get we'll save a small fortune by not paying anything for them and just get new ones since, current contracts are cheaper to mintain... Mrs Shields you know what to do. Fix this mess!"
"Yes Sir Mycroft."
*Mrs Shields arranges everything, erases all trace of these workers ever working for BMM.*
Donate to the Poor Pilot's Fundation via Sirius Bank /givecash GreenHawk 1000000 now, and support poor pilots sirius wide!
Skype: jure.grbec
My primary char: Jose El Nino - Corsair Elder captain of the SS Greenhawk
Currently Inactive due to pursuit of life long dreams, will be back...*edited* As promised am back.