A roaring sound could be heard as Mort's door crashed open and a young looking man came flying out through it with his back first and hit the wall behind him with a sickening crack and slowly began to slide down with bloody pooling from the back of his head.
Mort was simply furious as he received the black box logs of his rogue's liner. The thing was expensive...
Opening the small device once more he could hear a few of the captains transmissions before the ship was destroyed
He smiled almost maniacally...such a large ship...such an expensive ship...put in the hands of this young whore...?
This was the last straw....he will put a stop to this foolishness. Their bravado was making him loose the ships they maintain, it was about time to remove the troublemakers...
It was a sad day, when two fine ships were lost to some money hungry douche and Mort wasn't amused. Who let these rookies fly them anyway...to lose a Liner of all things was a Large blow to the funding of the operations he had planned on liberty soon enough.
Taking a comm device in his palm he flicked a few buttons and growled once more "Ben....get yer arse up here...It is time for a cut in the staff again..."
Ben elegantly appeared in his Crime Boss' doorway - without a mountebank's flourish or the twirl of a cape, but with a rather more sardonic, understated style, padding in on cat's feet, sinuously unfolding his tall frame to fit into Andrew's cramped - why were they so cramped? - quarters. Ben disdained flashy entrances as being the handiwork of amateurs.
Dangling loosely from his hand was a dagger. Not some ornate toy of wrought iron and durasteel, intended for sacrificial rites and suchlike nonsense. What the Liberty Rogue held up with a nonchalant grace was a weapon. Long, straight, sharp. Undoubtedly a tool, a device, bearing a reason for having been called into existence - the work of a craftsman bent only on one purpose, creating a potent method of murder. Ben had found the weapon among the scant possessions of a man named Syn, who had apparently sheltered aboard Alcatraz Depot one night during a particularly fierce ion storm - but that was before Ben's time. The Liberty Rogue had immediately appropriated the blade as being to his liking and fitting for his trade.
"Just say the word, boss. What cancer do you need cut away today?"
Mort grinned slyly as he saw Ben finally appear to his call.
"Quick...obedient...I like that...Unlike these two....my friend, your lust of other's pain is unmatchable, I am touched by that. You have helped much before and I am sure you will further on..as now, I deem you with a mission. These pups know nothing of how the job is to be done... "
He paused as he took out a switchblade knife from his own pocket and unfolded it to look over it's old, crooked and rusty surface before he handed it down to Ben.
"...Jessicka Leblanc...She hasn't learn, that you do not spend our funding for your own amusement...we do not stay and fight...we run. I wish you to take this...and go to her quarters. When She is asleep...Bind her and cut off any finger of your utter most desire and bring me the blade back."
He chuckled once more as he turned to walk back and lay against the wall with a wonderfully innocent smile
"Then....you shall cut it in two...and make her wear the peaces as earrings..."
He licked over his front teeth with what was left of his tongue, the once normal muscle had shriiveled as if acid had burned it, his speech not affected much as a whole, but the sound was Quite specific.
"...As a reward...You can have her body this night...I am sure she won't protest."
He chuckled silently and shook his head once more and took the tablet once more...
"...John Mantral...I wish you to go and brake both of his legs...each in two spots...This will give him a valid reason not to run next time...And I will enjoy the sight of this whimpering bitch as he drags his body around while repairng his own ship..."
With that Mort placed the tablet down and looked back at Ben, this time with a serious expression.
"You are my eyes...my ears, my blade. You will be their shadow, which strikes a knife in their back upon any mistake they make...I trust you in this, old friend."
With that Mort walked out and left Ben in the quarters, most probably in a few minutes he would be having a stiff drink and return to see what of that liner he could still salvage before the navy patrols got to it.
Danny comes into the Bar at Freeport 2. He looks to every table. His source told him that two young women were escaping with a Bloodhound to Bering. But nothing. None of them on the table. He takes a seat near the Bartender and orders a glass of water. He looks at the Neuralnet Computer with a crack on the display and decides to write...
I have a wish. Please do not harm Jessicka or Kristen. Both of them. As the 'Mostly Harmless' is the only other Transport ship apart me which smuggles the Cardamine to our bases. Sure, the pilots made a few mistakes...but everyone makes them. I would gladly help to pay for a new Ship. Smuggling between Malta and Buffalo is very profitable.
Both of them are funny and kind mates. I dont wish to fly alone all the time.
Danny White
---Message Ending---
...he starts coughing. He takes away the hand and cleans it on his Jeans, small red stains leave at it. Danny takes out a little dose of his jacket. Two red pills in his hand. The bartender looks at the coughing guy as he has some kind of a pest and takes 3 steps back.
"Who is it doing this synthetic type of alpha beta psychedelic funkin'?"