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 Nerrone's Rangers IC

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Delta
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Fri Oct 19, 2012 1:28 am

"That sounds logical," Kwa replied, "Though I'd sooner skulk in the shadows than try to sell that story to a police officer without proof — I wouldn't expect Ce to back us up on it." She shrugged.

"Call her yourself, if you like. I have the number."

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Mon Oct 22, 2012 11:11 pm

"Thank you for the heads-up, Deagan, in any case," Kwa said into the comlink.

"No problem; catch up with you another time, eh Kay?"

"If time permits. Bye for now." She ended the call and returned her comlink to its former place on the side of her head.


"Two more things before we set off," she said, turning back to the room at large. Reaching into one of the satchels at her waist, Kwa retrieved a handful of credit chips and placed them on the table.

"Each of these contains 50 credits of spending money — for security reasons I must ask that, while you're here, none of you buy things with anything other than these chips and any cash you may have: I don't want to leave a paper trail if at all possible."

((The total cash balances for characters are now as follows (50+3D6):

Naboo: 63
Flank: 61
Rhak: 66
Bor: 63
Aleon: 61
Kwa: 61
EDIT: Cobalt: 63 (Just to be fair — don't question the logic >:U)
))

"Rhak: If you find some cybernetics to replace your missing limb I might be able to dip into the main cash pool to help out — enough for a basic model, perhaps, but feel free to contribute your own funds towards something more expensive."

"Lastly, I suppose, we decide where to go: The immediate area of the city can pretty much be divided up into two areas: Verrild is the richer of the two. Expect shopping malls, restaurants, maybe a gallery or a museum or two, and clubs — including the one Deagan mentioned, the Ostrich Club. I frankly have no idea how the person who named it sleeps at night."

"Eirild is pretty much the area surrounding Verrild — if I remember correctly, the place becomes progressively more convoluted and winding as you move further from the centre, until you either fall into the river or run out of concrete alleys. It's the sort of place you would expect attracts the Temple and its ilk, but closer to Verrild it's pleasant enough, has its fair share of shops — perhaps with a more practical bent than you'd find the upper-crust perusing."

"...I think that's all I needed to cover. What sounds most appealing?"

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Nov 15, 2012 3:53 am

Naboo was sipping, no, chugging an energy drink, thoroughly enjoying getting caffeine back in his body. When he stopped he took the chip and spoke "If you ask me, Verrild seems to be the better idea, we have what seems like a profitable job offer, likely better shops, and we'll probably need to head for Eirild to look for the Temple anyways, so we could get better prepared for that mission there," he stopped and lead back in his chair "Well there's my two cents." He thought about what he could buy with this payment and the previous one he had saved.

((Don't mind me, just attempting to revive this. Also, if you don't like me combining the two salaries, Delta, I won't.))
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Nov 15, 2012 5:28 pm

((I'm skipping the pointless details about the gun's construction. They serve no purpose any more.))

Half a hour after Kwa set the pay for what was left of the Rangers onto the table, Flank finally drilled the last strip of metal onto his home-made gun, completing it. Well, mostly. It needed large batteries for ammunition.

The Mk1 Greeter's firing module had become a plasma caster, held in the same fashion as a chaingun due to its weight and the convenient handle configuration of the drill casing it protruded from. Between him and Grey, it didn't take long to map out a basic circuit that used all the components that were still attached to it. The plugs and their respective cords on the top side of the module curved back to rejoin the power cord, meaning that excess heat would be converted into precious, reusable power. The drill's TRIAC (which otherwise would regulate higher or lower turning speeds) was plugged directly into the yellow wire of the spectrum of coloured wires, giving it a set firing style.

They used Flank's armour battery as a test power source, which produced startling results. At the pull of the (successfully altered) trigger, the module charged up, sounding like a whirring turbine and glowing a faint yellow while it did so, before the diode at the end unleashed a searing yellow burst of plasma which disintegrated a wide hole in the pin board on the opposite wall.

What interested Flank the most about the firing of the gun was that it sounded like a constrained rush of air. There was a loud click to accompany it, but the main bulk of the sound gave Flank the impression that the caster had asthma. Hence, he christened the weapon the Mk2 Wheezer.

With the Wheezer's functionality confirmed, Flank and Grey set about making the finishing touches, like welding otherwise temporarily linked wires together, tucking the wires and cords up against the side so they wouldn't get caught on anything, reassembling the casing, and adding plates of scrap metal they found to cover up the wires and most of the module, keeping it safe.

Flank had to thank Grey loads of times before he was sure that he felt appreciated, although he did offer to help fix the rattling inside Flank's stealth helmet. This proved to be quick, taking only a few minutes, and left Flank with a repaired stealth helmet.

With that, Flank strode briskly out of the engineering room, the Wheezer held firmly in one hand, and collected his share of the credits on the table.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Nov 22, 2012 10:53 pm

Naboo gave the plasma cannon a slightly confused glance before saying "The shoulder cannon of kill everything not enough firepower for you Flank?"

___________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile on Tareen...

Cobalt wound through the pedestrian crowd, surprisingly unnoticed despite being an armed and armored being. He was baffled sometimes on what would pass for "normal " in these times. He rounded a corner into an ally that led to a long abandoned building he would rendezvous with his employer. He entered the building where his employer, a Grandoles, standing in wait. The Gradoles had told Cobalt that he was the leader of a rapidly growing gang and needed some problems removed when he hired Cobalt. Cobalt personally thought that they wouldn't last long in Coalition space. He saw them in action, and how unsubtle they had been in their tactics, but the gang leader relativity payed well. "Ah Cobalt, I sup-" the gang leader began but was cut off by Cobalt.

"The target is dead and I'm here to receive my payment." Cobalt said, little emotion filtering out of the speakers on his visor.

The Grandoles sighed "Of course." he said as he tossed a credit chip to Cobalt.

Cobalt caught the chip and pocketed it "I also asked for information on other possible contractors."

The Grandoles furrowed his brow an growled "Right... Well I heard that there was someone that hired some merc group called the Nerrone's Rangers or something like that."

If Cobalt had eyebrows he would have raised them "The Nerrone's Rangers..."

"Yes, one of my members said their contact's name was Deagan."

Cobalt nodded his thanks and turned around to leave. The gang leader was not going to let Cobalt go to another contractor, what if he was the target? The gang leader drew a pistol, cocked it, and got a throwing knife in his neck. He dropped his gun and made a gurgling sound before he slumped to the ground, dead. Cobalt calmly strode over and retrieved his knife before leaving. When Cobalt returned to the road he had come from he had begun a extranet search of the Coalition's Criminal database and Verrild's last census for someone named Deagan, as well as a search on the Nerrone's Rangers. Cobalt had just found his new employers.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 1:34 am

Kwa looked down at the weapon Flank had hefted through the door.

"Impressive work, you two — just promise me you aren't planning to walk the streets carrying your new toy."

"So, to Verrild then?"

_____________________________

#960018 acknowledges. Objective logged.

The sun continued to climb and the streets of Nartia began to fill with the sound of commuters; making their way through the streets on foot, in vehicles hovering in orderly lanes above the rooftops and in public shuttles, which flitted smoothly between the taller buildings on energy-rails. It was in all ways a typical day, and Cobalt had the distinct feeling he was being watched.

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 2:40 am

Naboo shrugged, "Seems like it."


_______________________________________________________

"Wonderful..." Cobalt thought as he looked how many results had hit. Cobalt also felt like he was being watched, and he hated that. Trying to look as casual as possible, he walked other to the nest public transportation stop and sat. He pulled up the results for the Nerrone's Rangers search and sifted through the results for a (relativity) creditable source. He didn't pay much attention to it though, more focused on scanning the crowd for who could have been watching him.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 4:34 am

Nothing in the crowd or people passing by evoked Cobalt's suspicion: commuting traders, businessmen, labourers, even a man wheeling a stand selling some kind of disgusting alien hotdog equivalent. With the pungent odour of oil and meat of questionable origin wafting over him, Cobalt finally located the source of his discomfort: A figure on a rooftop nearby was watching him.

Clearly one of his own race. Lithe. Average height and build. Masked? Hard to tell with the sun behind it. He — or possibly she — was poised atop a hab-block several stories high, and didn't appear to be making an attempt to hide.
_____________________________

"Well then," Kwa replied, "I see no further cause to delay."

They had landed on the border of Eirild, the less wealthy division of the city, but from here the peaks of taller, more elegant buildings could be seen in silhouette as the group stepped down the landing ramp, rising from above the older, more stocky constructions they would have to pass to reach Verrild.

Loose pieces of dust and fragments of stone kicked up as they set foot on the ground: someone had been here very recently. They had left their mark behind, carved deep into the concrete of the landing pad.


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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 6:12 am

Cobalt's eyes narrowed as he saw the Mallium, "I see you." he thought. He wondered if this was one of his former fellow Silent Ones. Cobalt briefly diverted his gaze to the travel schedule projected to his right. "Good" he thought as he saw he next destination would be to Verrild, and the transport would be here in little under half a minute, he then returned his gaze to the Mallium.

___________________________________________________________________

Naboo bent down and examined the marking, "Looks like the landing gear for a mid-sized personal craft, too small to be something any larger than The Lacuna." he said. Naboo than stood up "Lets go."
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 6:47 am

->Subject identification.
_IDENTIFICATION:
_OPERATIVE #0047AB [EXCOMMUNICATE]



The figure remained where it stood, gaze locked with Cobalt from afar. It tilted its head briefly, as if exhibiting detached interest in what it looked down at, and a reddish lens glinted momentarily in the sunlight.


_ADDENDUM: EXCHANGE OF LOADOUT FOR STANDARD ARMAMENT ADVISED
->Declined.
_VERY WELL.


The Temple were relatively few in number, by the standard of most powers in the galaxy, and chose the worlds they called home with great care. Whether or not Cobalt was aware this was one of them, the message of this lone emissary was clear.

We are here.

And we see everything.


A shuttle flashed between them, breaking Cobalt's line of sight momentarily.

To the surprise of no-one, the silhouette vanished.

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 7:28 am

Cobalt sighed behind his visor, he had heard rumors that this was a Silent Temple world but thought they were just rumors. "Game on." Cobalt thought as he saw the red glint of the visor's lens. He learned back on the bench. Cobalt really wished the transport would come sooner.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Nov 25, 2012 7:56 am

"Maybe..." Flank said flakily as he breezed past Kwa and back into his room, to choose an ammunition type for his cannon.

About half an hour later, he had finally picked mortars for his cannon, and his first step on Tareen kicked up all the more dust for the plasma caster that weighed him down further. He made an effort to keep it hidden, but subtlety ceased to exist on FlaK Ravises, so he didn't put that much effort into it. He hung it by one of its handles on the horizontal arm of his cannon and wrapped his right wing around the bulk of the weapon.

He took an experimental breath of the air and coughed for its bizarre taste.
"Well. That guy was the worst noughts and crosses player ever."

-----------------------------

((FINALLY))

There was very little surveillance underground. So little, that the maze of underground corridors that had been abandoned so long ago had become home to several small mercenary organisations, often visited by those who were too poor or too afraid to approach the Silent Temple — wherever it was — or those who didn't even know about it. It was a member of one of these organisations that walked confidently through the metal corridors. She was confident because she had finished her mission without getting caught... and therefore had won a steep bet.

She was a Konematis, a race of mammals descended from crustaceans on a gold-rich planet called Auren, and all three of those aspects were evident by her appearance. The Konematis are a humanoid race, effectively mammal, but with features that just screamed their crustacean ancestry.

Their skin is predominantly black with a yellow hue with a more solid yellow splashed on the back and front of their torso. Embedded in the chest, just below the collarbones, is a lustrous gold, gem-like stone. Their head is that of what used to be a carnivore and is essentially a rounded snout. Protruding from the sides of the mouth are a set of yellow pincers that serve to break hard foods and protect the jaw. On top of the head, on either side of the crown, are two barbed fins that curve right over to the back of the head. Between these, their hair grows, and on the other side of them are their eyes. Their lower legs and upper arms are encased in a part of the exoskeleton they once had, and their forearms are nothing more than narrow, conical spiral shells — similar to those of a hermit crab — with muscles inside and hands protruding from the very end. Their feet, despite their crustacean ancestors, are flat, wide, cloven hooves.

This particular Konematis had a dramatically different look about her. The yellow hue was absent from her skin, leaving it black with yellow splashed on the front and back of her torso. Not only that, but the gem embedded in her chest was also jet black. It was sometimes considered a genetic defect.

She was swinging a small, burdened, hessian sack in one hand. The bottom was soaked in blood. Slung across her back and clipped onto her armour was a rifle so long that, when she stood it upright, it came up to her ribs. It was too long to carry so she just kept it on her back.

The corridor rounded a corner and came up to a sealed door. There was an intercom speaker on the wall, which she approached. She pressed the green button underneath the speaker, and she was greeted by a dull sounding voice distorted by static.

"Password?"

"I'd like a double chilli burger with wedges and sour cream."

"We gave you a password, Samantha."

The door gave a hiss and unlocked itself with a click. Samantha turned the handle with her free hand and pulled the door open, revealing a concrete-walled room no larger than a lounge room and decorated like an apartment. There were two sofas in the middle of the room facing a TV set in front of the wall to Samantha's right, a kitchenette just through an open doorway, four bedroom doors on the wall behind the sofas, and an old rug hugging the floor. Almost everything there had been either stolen or salvaged, apart from the three individuals sitting on the sofas. That was the rest of her squad, and they were all men.

Closest to her, sitting alone on one of the sofas, was an O'onthos named Kirem. The others often called him Bee for his black and yellow skin, Samantha included, despite having the same coloured skin. She could also tell that he was beginning to harbour a crush for her, after working together for several months.

On the next sofa was Parras, whom she had made the bet with. He had a reptilian physique and head, with blue skin with yellow bands on his arms. Next to him, sitting down from using the intercom on the wall, was Dorn. Dorn was the self-appointed alpha of the small mercenary squad and handled all the finances. He was of the same race as Parras, with yellow skin and red bands, but he had twice the muscle mass and a unique aspect that sometimes appeared in that race's physiology: a second head.

Samantha walked right up to Parras, blocking his view of the TV, and held the hessian sack up for him to see. He was looking excited.
"Keep it down, tiger." Samantha said smugly. "I didn't get caught."

His enthusiasm drained from him faster than water from a spoon full of holes.
"That could just be you saying it to win." He retorted. He wanted to win the bet, like he did last time.

"Shh!" Kirem cut in. "It's on!"

He was talking about the TV. They had it on the news channel, waiting for a report on the effects of Samantha's latest assignment.

"This is a breaking news report. Tareen dwelling filmstar Dominik Nathan has been found dead in his top-floor penthouse suite in the Sarkik hotel and casino, decapitated and half-naked on his bed. Detectives and forensics have swarmed to the scene, and suspicious fans have had to be hosed down to be kept away form the hotel."

"Woo-hoo!" Kirem hooted. "You got the Dominik Nathan half-naked?"

"He was eager to get that shirt off." Samantha commented.

"Shh," hissed Dorn's left head.

"Forensics place the time of death at roughly one o'clock in the morning, and have found an alarmingly high concentration of alcohol in his blood. Detectives are unable to locate a murder weapon, label a culprit or even a suspect at the time, but eyewitnesses claim that Dominik was accompanied by a young woman in the hotel's bar at around midnight. The woman is yet to be identified or found."

"Ha!" Parras barked. "You were seen!"

"That doesn't count, you idiot!" Samantha blurted out. "The bet was that I wouldn't get caught killing him."

"It doesn't count." Kirem chimed in.

"Getting seen doesn't count;" concluded Dorn's right head, "the idea is to get out without anyone knowing that you killed the target."

"Come on then," Samantha chided, "pay up."

Parras slumped down in his side of the sofa and pulled an old wallet out of his pocket. He opened it and, with reluctance akin to that of a child, pulled out note after note until one hundred credits lay in his hand, and soon after in Samantha's hand.

"Thank you," she sneered in mock politeness, before she turned around and approached a screen set in the wall next to the TV, closer to the door. She pressed a few buttons — a video call number — and waited. Not long after, the screen flicked to life, imparting the visage of someone who looked like he owned a decent fraction of the galaxy's hair gel shares. Truth of the matter was, he did. He was nothing more than a businessman with a problem. Behind the man's head was a view of the Nartia city skyline, with shuttles scuttling in front of the towers.

"I take it you have good news for me?" the man asked, his voice as slippery and sticky as the fuming gel in his hair.
"Yeah," Samantha said quickly, pulling Dominik's head out of the bag. Most of his face was painted with blood from the bag, but it was very much recognisable, evident by the smile on her client's face. He didn't let himself seem too excited, however. He needed to stay level headed.
"Good. I've just finished watching the report myself, and I had to make sure it was you, and not a rival organisation. I must say, getting out of the Sarkik's penthouse unseen is quite a feat."

He paused, took a breath, and then looked back up at Samantha.
"You will be rewarded extra for your services." It was a lie, but any businessman could lie. "Now. Complete the assignment."

The feed went black as the call ended, just as Samantha's heart skipped two beats and her face went cold. She had completed her assignment, she knew that, but the last part of that call wasn't addressed to her. It was addressed to the three armed men behind her, who even now were rising to their feet, pistols and submachine guns in hand.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Tue Dec 04, 2012 3:24 am

Kwa fixed the mark in the ground with a narrow-eyed look, but declined to comment further than a low "Hmm."

Soon the group was in the midst of Verrild, with its wide boulevards and modern architecture. Shops of various kinds lined the sides of the street — mostly selling civilian supplies, clothing and luxuries — broken here and there by restaurants, cafes and one or two up-market bars. Waiters were about, setting up chairs and tables for their patrons to sit at outside. Further along the street, a somewhat larger establishment poked out of the line of buildings; toting neon, velvet rope and a hulking pair of Aegra bouncers. This was the Ostrich Club, where Deagan had directed them for the job offer. Despite the time of day, there didn't seem to be any lack of activity around it: apparently the club-goers of Verrild kept strange hours.

Kwa turned to the group: "Take the opportunity to shop if you wish — otherwise we ought to begin searching for evidence of the Temple's presence here, or investigate this job offer."

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:12 pm

Rhak followed Aleon to a back alley, past the crowds and went into a door.
He was met by a clean store, filled with mechanical limbs which covered the walls and roof.
A man with a large belly and dressed in white clothes greeted them.
"So what do you want? I got a nice collection of military grade arms."

"Something elegant, not so expensive and simple, please." Rhak responded.
The man nodded and went through a backdoor. Rhak and Aleon followed him to a room fitted for surgery.
"I got just the right one for you, Mr." The man said while he sedated Rhak. The last thing he remembered was that Aleon said something to the man before the darkness lay itself like a shroud over him.

The next time he woke up, he had a new black painted arm. It moved smoothly, but swung around like an annoyed snake.

"It was easy to establish connection, because of your cybernetic implants. I also built in coil dampeners, this will allow you to handle currents under 400 volts. However, it may take time to get used to it."

The man pointed towards the flailing arm as it spun around.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Fri Dec 14, 2012 10:26 am

It didn't take Flank very long to start searching for an electronics store. With something to focus on and a decent budget, he was already thinking of how he could improve the Wheezer. Batteries to use as ammunition was a start. The home-made plasma caster hung off the metal segment his cannon swivelled upon, wrapped up in his right wing so only a little of the firing module was showing. This was partly to keep it at least in some way concealed, but also to protect it and keep it close.

Perhaps the Ravis military had never set foot on Tareen, but Flank was becoming more and more concerned about how the passers by averted their gaze from his visage and avoided walking too close to him. It was similar to how people on Las Thaddas regarded him, only these people didn't shut their windows and hide their children as if he were about to start shooting. It was like they just didn't want to get in his way. Flank couldn't complain, but it wasn't heartening. At least in Las Thaddas Maarucye could relate to him.

He found an electronics store soon enough, one with a door just wide enough for him to fit through, albeit sideways. Inside it was cold — an air conditioner in the far corner set far too low than reasonable saw to that — and very neat. The floor was covered by a clean threadbare carpet with blue and white thread, the shelves were dusted and the products organised with great care, and a small tree grew peacefully in a large terracotta pot next to the door.

He browsed the shelves for a while, looking for batteries big enough to power the Wheezer, but none of those on display were potent enough, or even large enough to fit in the crude cradle made of metal strips designed to house such a battery. Right now his armour battery was sitting awkwardly inside of it, attached to the terminals by some spare wiring. He approached the counter instead, which was situated in the far opposite corner from the door, and hidden from it by the rows of shelves.

The shopkeeper had his back turned, and it was a very big back. He mustn't do much exercise. Flank cleared his throat.
"Oh, hey there," the man said politely, turning around.
"Hi. I'm looking for-" he was cut off when the shopkeeper backed away from him all too quickly.
"M-mister Corpaq!" He stuttered. "I, uh... I still don't have any fission breeder batteries, the next shipment is in two weeks!"

Flank looked behind himself with his cannon. No one there.
"What the hell are you talking about?" He demanded, voice slightly raised. "And who the hell is Corpaq?"

The shopkeeper seemed to calm down at that, but he jolted right back into his state of nervous terror when the door slammed open. The loud noise was followed by heavy footsteps, the sound of a potted plant being tipped over, and an obnoxiously loud voice calling out from behind the shelves.

"So I hear someone's trying to steal the show around here!" There was a collection of loud clunks as whoever it was picked something off the shelf. It was later thrown over the shoulder and seen flying over the next shelf. The voice went on, getting closer as it passed the shelves.
"I'm gonna make this very clear: this is my territory! And I'm not sharing with some pumped-up wannabe who just waltzes in here pretending to be me!"

The owner of the voice rounded the corner, and Flank found himself staring at another FlaK Ravis, the first he'd seen in several years.
"That's Corpaq!" The shopkeeper whimpered.

((I was going to post for Samantha here but I got carried away with Flank's bit :\ ))
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Dec 16, 2012 5:04 am

From next-door, Aleon and the recently reawakened Rhak heard the sound of crockery shattering and someone bellowing violently from the other side of the wall to the left. Obviously something of a ruckus was kicking off in the electronics store on the other side.

Kwa was, at this point, at the other end of the same street. She could have sworn she had glimpsed one of her own race, a mallium, wearing a blue-lensed visor. A transit shuttle had just arrived at the stop a few meters away, however, and a sudden outflow of commuters had sabotaged her efforts to confirm the sighting, as of yet.

She lifted one hand to her comm device and spoke into it: "I think we may have a situation."

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sun Dec 16, 2012 8:17 am

Bor sighed as Kwa's message came through. "What else is new?" He headed off toward Kwa and prepared to engage the hostile.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Wed Dec 19, 2012 10:03 am

((Yeah, still pretty long, but not nearly as long as it could have been and more open-ended. Still, take it in small bites if need be.))

To outsiders, the Ravis all looked the same. Even the females were indistinguishable from the males. While there were some subtleties that the Ravis themselves could pick up on, there were more obvious ways of telling one another apart: some had deliberate pigment changes, some were in the military and had the hybrid implants to prove it, and some wore unique clothes.

Even then, Flank couldn't blame the shopkeeper from confusing him for Corpaq. They were both Ravises, with their military FlaK cannon hybrid implants, around the same height, and they both wore very similar armour. The only obvious difference seemed to be that Flank's armour was more decorated than the standard Ravis trooper armour, while Corpaq wore a suit of trooper armour with a patchwork of pieces of other armours attached. Flank could spot a forebrace from a suit of Lawcent assault armour, a Konematis navy chest plate, Eviscor thigh guards, and even an entire arm of combat armour that looked like it once belonged to a Mallium. Flank also noticed that he kept his cannon pointed down behind his back, which seemed odd for someone so rowdy.

"You must be Corpaq." he said, trying to sound indifferent.
"You must be new." snapped Corpaq.
"OK... so what's your deal? You the local landlord or something?"
"Better than that," Corpaq gloated, "I own this whole street!"

"How'd you come to own it?" Flank wasn't really interested, he was stalling, waiting for the situation to defuse itself.
"Ha! Like anyone'll ever say no to a gun like this!" He jabbed his thumb at his cannon. A whole second later, it twitched.
He's using his cannon to declare himself king. Flank noted.

"What's your rank?" Flank asked, some of his former authority creeping back into his voice.
"Me?" Corpaq asked, bewildered, "I'm on my way to King of Tareen!"
"No, I mean your rank in the military, idiot."
"I left that deathtrap a long time ago!"
"Right, so you took you leave after the Grox invasion was fought?"

Corpaq looked genuinely confused for a second. "What? No, I left before that whole charade!"
Flank's fists tightened. "So you're a deserter."
"What?! That ain't your business! Who the hell are you?"
"Ex-Admiral Flank Travis."
"So? Man, you're not authority any more- wait, you're the Flank?"
"Yes." Flank answered, cautiously. He didn't like where this was going. It seemed too late, though; Corpaq was laughing. Between bouts of chuckling, he managed to push out a few words:
"And here I am getting my ass roasted by the Glass Cannon!"

The first punch landed square on the mouth.


Outside the store, several people stopped what they were doing at the muffled sounds of a struggle coming from inside. Bor might have been a little surprised to hear Flank's voice, muffled yet undeniably angry.

"Don't you ever call me that!"

Things fell over in the store — announced by loud crashes and clattering metal — before the door flung open, and two FlaK Ravises barrelled out, Corpaq tackling Flank onto the footpath. Flank rolled backwards, got both feet under Corpaq's chest and lifted him clean off, hurling him onto the road.

By now many of the pedestrians had all stopped to stare at the two, and a great murmur went up. All cars stopped, including the transit, either to get a look at what was going on or to avoid running Corpaq over. They both got onto their feet. Flank spotted Bor, who was closer to Corpaq that he was.

"What the hell are you all staring at?!" Corpaq bellowed at the crowd. Some dispatched to get away, but the majority was transfixed. There were two Flak Ravises fighting, and the other one looked like he could beat Corpaq.

"You know," Flank called back, "Admiral or not, I could have you reported for deserting. The penalties are still pretty high."

"Man, shut up! You got dishonourably discharged, at least I still had my dignity when I got my ass off that dust ball!"
With that, he pulled a very thick pistol out from under one of the scavenged armour plates and pointed it at Flank. Most of the onlookers gasped and screamed, but Flank knew exactly why he was using a handgun.

"You know what else sucks for the ones who deserted before the invasion?" Flank called, stepping to the left. "Their cannon's weren't calibrated. Turns out they were all out of line during the war, and everyone got theirs fixed — of course, if they were still in the military."

"My cannon works fine, Glass!" Corpaq took a step to his left, mimicking Flank. If Flank could get him to circle enough, he'd be right in front of Bor...
"Corpaq. You are using a pistol. You know your cannon doesn't work!" A positive murmur went up in the gathered crowd.

Corpaq's cannon swivelled up and over his shoulder from its position behind his back and stopped when it was level with Flank's head. Level, but not aligned, Flank noticed. It looked more like it was pointed at the wall directly behind him, to his left.
"You wanna bet?!" Corpaq challenged.
"No."

In a flash, Flank unravelled his right wing and pulled the Wheezer off his shoulder. It dropped into a two-handed grip, and before Corpaq even knew what was going on, Flank fired. The bright yellow plasma bolt flew true and hit its target — Cropaq's cannon.
There was a small but loud explosion as the miniature anti-aircraft cannon burst apart, knocking Corpaq off his feet and sending him sprawling right in front of Bor. He still held his pistol.

"Grab it!" Flank cried, just as the crowd erupted into a screaming mass. While not widespread, the commotion had attracted the attention of almost everyone on the street, including the local law enforcement.

--------------------------

Samantha bolted out the door to her right just as the first wave of submachine gun fire impaled the small screen she was just standing in front of. There was a bright flash as the screen shorted out and burst, offering some cover for Samantha as she fled around the corner and through the concrete underground passageways.

Holy crap! she thought, speeding up as much as her adrenalin rush could allow. Just out of the short corridor that led to the front door of what obviously was no longer her home, she made a right turn, swinging on a metal pipe that ran from floor to ceiling at the corner. The corridor stretched on seemingly forever in its less-than-great lighting, but Samantha had to get out of a direct line of sight before she felt hot lead rip through her back. At least her rifle could deflect a few of them, maybe give her a chance.

CLOP! CLOP! CLOP! CLOP! CLOP! CLOP! CLOP! CLOP!
She cursed her own ancestry. Of all the races she could have been born into, it had to be one of the few that actually had hooves. There would be no losing her own squad if they could hear her wherever she ran. But what was worse than the sound of her feet striking the ground was that of her pursuers', who could even now be lining up the sights.

She took the next turn she saw, again swinging on the metal pipe that ran parallel to the edge of the wall. A loud, crunching PAFF! assured her that she'd just avoided taking one of Parras's pistol slugs to some ambiguous part of her body. The corridor she now ran through met an intersection a lot sooner than the previous one, so she'd be a step ahead when she went either left or right, if only by a little bit. It wasn't enough for her to find any properly defensible position where she could shoot back. Until, however, she noticed something in the ceiling of the cross roads. An air ventilation shaft, with metal pipes running along the ceiling adjacent to the wide rectangular opening.

For the last few months, Samantha had been passing the time swinging around on anything loose that hung from the ceiling, mostly trying to put her flexibility to the test. One of her stunts included leaping up to ventilation shafts just like this one, grabbing the pipes, twisting backwards and then pushing herself up into the vent, feet first. Of course, she never did this with her rifle clipped to her back, nor had she ever mastered the movement. But she could see no other alternative other than running loudly through the empty corridors in search of a ladder, only to find a dead end and be gunned down.

Her face set with grim determination. She had to pull this off or have her blood sprayed unceremoniously throughout the concrete hall. She tightened her fists and began running as fast as she could, sparing no thought to how much louder her feet became on the cold, hard ground and using up all the energy she could. She arrived at the intersection.


Last edited by Potatrobot on Thu Dec 20, 2012 3:06 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Wed Dec 19, 2012 7:46 pm

Bor was taken somewhat by surprise when Flank and Corpaq burst through doors to the electronic store, which he had just happened to be passing on his way to Kwa.

As the two traded insults, Bor carefully positioned himself behind the aggressor. When Flank's Wheezer blasted Corpaq to the ground, he punched Corpaq in the face before grabbing his gun. Bor jumped back up and took a few steps back, aiming the weapon at the downed Ravis.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sat Dec 22, 2012 3:08 am

Kwa was similarly distracted by the sudden ruckus; casting one last quick glance about for any sign of the blue-masked creature, she began making her way towards the electronics shop at a carefully controlled pace. More than any other place she knew, the walls in Nartia had eyes. This thought was reinforced by the sudden appearance, at the opposite end of the street, of two of the city's law enforcers. One — a gangly, yellow-feathered Sett — was speaking rapidly into his comm device and the other — a beefy-looking Aegraa — was in front, pushing a way through the surge of passers-by fleeing the scene and yelling at the pair of Ravis' and Bor from a distance.

"...Two heavily armed brawlers on Conneigua street, gunshots confirmed, requesting..."

"YOU! PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND GET ON THE GROUND!"

Both characters were equipped with visored helmets in addition to their uniforms, and had at their belts a holstered CLEU side-arm and a personal shield generator — neither of them had shielded up yet, however.

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Sat Dec 22, 2012 3:17 pm

The majority of Corpaq's cannon lay on the street as a host of shards of carbon steel, some still held together by the kevlar mesh that reinforced the gun's entire frame. The explosion that tore it apart was tiny, even though it was loud.
Not even loaded, Flank thought as he picked his way over to Corpaq, the crowd going hysterical, just like I thought.

Corpaq was dazed, and a bit burnt around the neck from the Wheezer's devastating plasma. Not to Flank's surprise, only a few shards had found their way into Corpaq's flesh; the FlaK cannons were designed to disperse debris and energy away from the body should the ammunition explode, providing a slim chance of survival on the Ravis's part. He still managed to hold onto that pistol, however.

"What the hell, man!" he bellowed, once his senses returned. His second sense of sight would never be coming back, though. "You blew up my cannon!" He half-raised the pistol before Bor snatched it and punched him on the mouth. He managed to return a phonetic Ravis swear before Flank lost interest and diverted his attention to the approaching police officers.

"YOU!" cried one, "PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN AND GET ON THE GROUND!"
Put down your weapons.

"Come on Bor, we're out of here." Flank pulled the battery out of the Wheezer's cradle and disconnected the wires from the terminals.
"Don't worry about him," he said, noting Bor's defensive stance with the gun, "he's not going anywhere; he's just been half blinded."
He hung the Wheezer back onto his cannon's supporting arm, wrapped his right wing around it and shoved the battery back into its slot on his left arm.
"Still, I'd take the gun anyway. Just to be safe."
He pressed the button on the left side of his helmet and immediately began to vanish, seemingly by vaporising from the head down to his torso and then to his extremities. The Wheezer was included in the stealth field, given its proximity to Flank.

Bor felt one of Flank's large, taloned hands grip one of his four wrists and pull him into the crowd. One way or another they were getting away from this.

-------------------
((Copy and paste))

She jumped.

She caught two pipes on either side of the vent.

She curled up into a ball, twisting backwards.

And with a great effort made solely on the desire to live, she straightened out into the shaft and pulled herself in with all the strength she could get out of her arms.

Her rifle snagged the rim of the vent, but otherwise held fast to her back. The shaft was wider inside than the perimeter of the vent, so with an awkward movement she brought her arms in after her, one at a time, so that she was doing a painful handstand on the inside rim of the shaft. Thankfully her hair was just short enough so that with her arms as straight as she could get them, it didn't peek below the vent opening.

She did it. She was in! Now all she had to do was last long and silently enough until her former colleagues passed by so she could get the upper hand on them.

In the few calmer seconds before they arrived under the vent, Samantha took the time to get a grip on herself and regulate her breathing. If she panicked any more she'd start physically shaking. She had to calm down and breath, calm down...

Maybe its not all three of them, she thought, in a thin effort to diminish the situation. Bee wouldn't do this, would he? Maybe it's only Parras, the selfish butt-munch. Yeah, it could just be him.

Yeah, and that submachine gun fire wasn't aimed at you, either.
Said another part of her mind.
OK, she admitted, there was at least two of the three after her. Dorn had two submachine guns, one for each head. Parras and Kirem both had pistols, but only Parras's sounded like the one that had just been fired at her, so maybe Kirem wasn't after her either.

She heard them round the corner. She slowed her breathing; it echoed in the shaft. They'd stopped, noticed they couldn't hear her loud footsteps.
"Where'd she go?" came the inevitable question. It was Parras's voice.
"I'll let you know when I get X-ray vision." one of Dorn's heads retorted.
They were quiet, listening for Samantha, and slowly advancing towards the intersection. She couldn't tell if there were four or six footsteps, they were too silent to make out. It didn't matter though, because all three mercenaries walked directly under the vent — and stopped.

Damn you, Kirem.
Her rifle slipped a portion out of its clip. Samantha almost swore out loud.

"We'll split up." Dorn's right head decided.
"Obviously." Kirem said.

Samantha pushed away from the vent on her stomach's side.

"I'll take the forward path." Dorn went on.

Her rifle slipped a little more. She could feel it sliding down those scant millimetres.

"I'll take the one on the right." Said Kirem.
"And I'll take the left." Concluded Parras.

Her rifle came right out of its clip — just as she pressed it against the wall of the shaft with her back. She stopped breathing altogether.

"Good," said Dorn, "yell out when you find her."
With that, they split and went their separate ways. Samantha didn't know how much longer she could hold herself up for. Her arms were beginning to quiver, she needed to breath and her heartbeat was pulsing loudly through her temples. But still she had to wait until they were far out of sight and earshot.
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Dec 27, 2012 4:08 am

The two CLEU officers pushed their way through to Corpaq, and while the Aegra roughly pinned the disoriented Ravis' arms and cuffed him, the Sett cast about wildly for Flank, face a picture of confused frustration.

"—He's gone...!" the Sett said.

"The hell he is," his bulkier companion grunted over an armful of stunned Ravis.

"Can it, Barrows, he just vanished."

Officer Barrows, now in the process of rattling off the 'right to remain silent' speech to his captive, did not bother to point out the ridiculousness of a suspect as noticeable as a FlaK ravis melting away into thin air, or remind his comrade that they lived in a day and age where cloaking devices existed. People who started brawls in the street first thing in the morning didn't have that kind of money anyway.

Coming to one of these three conclusions himself, the Sett cursed under his breath and set off down the nearest side-street in pursuit of their quarry's most likely route of escape.


CLEU officer Sine would return to HQ several hours later, after the wild-goose-chase of the century, missing his helmet, shoes and the majority of his plumage and dragging a metal fire-escape door behind him, which had been handcuffed to him in circumstances he would later decline to describe. After twelve minutes and the attentions of a hacksaw, the Sett was given leave for the rest of the day and an invoice for the damage to his equipment. He would thenceforth manifest a deep and abiding fear of taxidermists.


Kwa, meanwhile, looked on from nearby and spoke into her comm device once more as the situation on the street died down:

"Bor, Flank — status?"

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Thu Dec 27, 2012 10:30 pm

Rhak and Aleon went out to see the Bor and Flank run away through the crowd.
"So much for keeping a low profile."

Aleon went to Kwa.
"So what to do next, milady?"
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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Fri Dec 28, 2012 3:45 am

Kwa then proceeded to tear out Aleon's lungs and throttle him with them. In the world beyond her vivid imagination, however, she simply replied:

"We find a quiet place to arrange a rendezvous, and proceed with what we were—"

Kwa was interrupted by a loud clattering from inside the shop Aleon and Rhak had just emerged from, mixed with loud cursing and something that sounded very much like a pig squealing.

"...doing."

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PostSubject: Re: Nerrone's Rangers IC   Fri Dec 28, 2012 4:25 am

Flank sat on a high rooftop overlooking Conneigua street, pulling feathers out of his mouth. That would be the last time he tried to hide himself amongst a collection of stuffed animals in order to try an ambush someone. Despite being smaller and more nimble, Bor was harder to hide because he lacked a cloaking device, so Flank had to assemble a segmented suit made of various hollow animal parts for him to wear while they waited for officer Sine to pass them by.

Didn't work out like he thought it would.

He thought he lost Bor about two storeys from the rooftop, either having outrun him or because Bor just went elsewhere. There was always something better to do than sit on a rooftop with a Ravis after an exciting chase.

He pressed the button on the side of his helmet to answer Kwa: "Tired, covered in feathers, and probably wanted, but I'm fine. I'm on top of the building with the green neon sign overlooking the street. Bor was behind me until just now."

He let the button go to hear what Kwa had to say as he looked over the city skyline. It was almost peaceful, even though the chase had excited him into an unsteady state. He wasn't feeling as strong as he usually did.

----------------------

It felt like hours, standing upside down in that vertical shaft, trying not to move or let her rifle slip out and clatter on the ground. The time dragged on for so long Samantha wasn't sure she'd last any longer. But it was only four minutes later when she could no longer hear the three mercenaries plod on through the corridors. Samantha let herself take a deep breath. The next step was to get out quietly, and hunt them down. She couldn't go back to her home, they'd come back, and there was no other way out of that place. She'd be trapped, and she couldn't take all three of them at once.

Getting out was stressful, and a bit painful. She had to slowly let her rifle slide down so that it rested on the inside rim of the vent, before finding a way out herself. That turned out becoming the way she came it. She slowly grabbed the pipes on either side of the vent, curled up, and lowered herself out. She flipped over and quietly let herself down.

The cold sensation that came as her blood rushed back down to the rest of her body was the best thing she'd ever felt, even if it was followed by an intense wave of dizziness. Was the air fresher out of the vent? She didn't tarry. When the dizziness had passed and her blood had drained from her head, she reached up and took her rifle out of the vent.

She had three paths to follow. She'd take Dorn out first; he had two submachine guns, two heads, and two times the muscle mass of either Kirem or Parras. He had to go first. She hefted her rifle, cleared her head, and slowly began advancing through the forward path. Walking quietly was hard; she had to slowly lower her foot levelly onto the ground with every step, meaning that she had to take bigger steps to make up for the loss in speed. She soon got a steady rhythm going, and she was getting further away from the vent.

She came to another intersection, and edged up to the wall on the right hand side.
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