My loves like a Revolver

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Zizikitty, Jul 9, 2013.

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  1. Far in the future space travel had become common. Hyper drives allowed man kind to travel away from the cozy familiarity of Earth and it’s solar system. Opening a whole new era in humanity as they found themselves not alone. But for the most part other alien races were more interested in trade that taking over a world. It seemed as though money made space to continue to move. The ebb and flow was moved with commerce and trade, much like an ecosystem. And like any ecosystem there were predators. Space pirates and thieves littered the trade routes. Waiting for the lone ship to pass by so to pilfer their goods. And like the savanna watering holes, far flung trading posts harbored races and people of all kinds. One such trading posts was Muri Trading Post located in a thin asteroid field.

    The station was built into the largest lump of rock in the mildly littered field. The muddy brown rock had glimmers of silver built in. The glimmers of silver were windows and walls built into the massive rock it’s self, giving it stability and integrity. All around the oval shaped rock were rudders that would gently correct the positioning of the station. Small turrets lined the station although not as a defense against ships, but to gently shoot away floating smaller asteroids that might pose a threat. Various docks lined the station, cave like openings that would allow ships entry into the post. For a seemingly empty expanse of floating rock, there was quite the hustle and bustle of ships hovering around the trader post.

    Inside the station was a bit shabby, as trader posts that were not looked after by planetary governments tend to look. Buildings coated with muddy brown asteroid dust, the lights inside seemed faint and those farthest from the generators even flickered. This was a result of oxygen being more important that lighting. Some businesses invested in their own generator just to power their own flashing bright signs aim to attract customers. Aliens of all races walked through the streets, lined the vender stalls and drank at the local taverns and bars. Posts like this one could find just about what ever they wanted. To rare and exotic clothing, illegal modifications, and even slaves. The last part is what drew the infamous Decorus Licentia space pirate lord Madam here. But not for the reason that one would think.

    Madam and her Decorus Licentia had quite a name for themselves. She was known for her vicious brutality and cold lack of compassion when operating. She’d kill an entire station just to silence a meager few. Her biggest mark was made when helping the Resistance on Earth fight back the oppressive GOV that controlled them. In fact she was the only pirate helping them. Most others tried to pillage what they could in the civil war torn city of Reborg. Her elusive nature like a cat kept her from the grasp of many whom wouldn’t mind her dead. The elusiveness most evident in that no one knew what she really looked like.

    It was known she was most certainly, most likely anyways, a woman. Her solid black suit covered her curvy form, flexible padding more heavily on her limbs and body. A black hood covered her head from while soulless goggles shown only the reflection from the world around her. Even her voice was synthesized through a mask that covered her mouth. On her left arm she wore a dark green cuff with her pirates symbol, a spiral that spanned out into a single wing along with a pair of throwing knives. On her belt she wore a tool pack, flash bombs and grenades. A pair of energy pistols rested on her thighs and hidden in her boots were a pair of daggers. But this formidably dressed woman was relatively short, only five foot five.

    Madam walked through the dirtiest part of the trading post, a place reserved to the housing and sale of exotic animals. Various bellowing roars, chirps and yowls filled the air as she walked through. At first glance she wasn’t seeing what she wanted but then again she’d not asked anyone yet. She came to a cage that at first glance looked empty but the soft hisses and snarls that drifted from it said other wise. Madam’s smile was hidden behind her mask as she knelt down two look into the pair of yellow eyes looking at her. “I almost didn’t see you little zhuilian tiger.” She cooed in a synthetic voice. The animal’s fur blended like a chameleon into the background. Almost perfectly. It growled and it’s fur changed to a striped dusty brown, showing it’s true form. Sleek like a panther, striped like a tiger but held the head of prehistoric saber tooth cat. She called the beast little but it in fact was twice the size of an Earth African lion. “Who owns you? I have questions to ask them.”


    Her answer came very soon as a four armed alien came from behind the cage. “Hey HEY! That thing will rip your arm off! What are you doing?” He barked as he came to stand next to Madam, whom quickly stood up. The aliens green eyes grew as he stammered. “Speaking of arms you have a few to spare. Tell me what I want to know and you’ll get to keep them all.” She said as she said as she grabbed his collar and held him near the cage. The once quiet cat grew viciously agitated when it saw the four armed alien. Hissing and swiping it’s claws at the man. “Oh she’s hungry. Have you fed her today?” Madam cooed in a sinister voice.
     
  2. Altair Aquila sipped his wine thoughtfully. He was aware that he was drawing some strange looks-- after all, who in this day and age would read a letter on paper, and especially in a public bar? Wasn't it embarrassing? But, as some of the more sagacious observers might realize, it was several times as hard to track a paper letter as a comm-- and a comm was rather harder to destroy than a piece of parchment. And in a fight, he thought he stood a better than average chance. Those who dared to claim the name of a constellation had to be prepared to defend it, and he'd proven his ability over nearly a decade of conflicts ranging from las-knife fights in bars to duels as an interstellar pilot, always leaving the mark of an eagle's eye on his beaten opponents. Most thugs would take pause at the mere mention of such a name.

    But what this letter asked him to do was a little beyond the pale. If not for the seductive implication that there was a great deal of money in it for him, he would have burned the letter there and then. No doubt Roth thought that this was a favor-- telling him that Madam's bounty had risen again, to four and a half billion Interstellar Credits. No matter the IC reward, money won't help if you're dead, he reminded himself. But despite this grounding of good sense, he had to admit that the idea appealed to him. He had yet to meet someone who could beat him in a fight of his making, and he had the benefit that Madam wouldn't know he was coming. But she could also be in any one of perhaps three hundred places. By the time I found her, she would be long gone-- or waiting at my back with an energy pistol.

    "Bartender, one Bloody Mary," he ordered, his wrist-cuff automatically sending sixty centi-IC as payment and a tip. The man, heavily scarred and with one wooden pole in place of a leg, stumped over to make the drink. Now or never to make the decision. He reached for the drink, then froze as his gaze wandered onto the window of the bar, into the trading post proper. There, in front of an animal vendor, was a woman with all of the vestments he'd been told Madam had, and with the same symbol. Either the real deal or suicidal, then? A slightly-insane smile spread across his face, and before extinguishing it, he tossed back the Bloody Mary in one go, setting the glass down precisely and standing. Two las-knives, one on each wrist, one energy pistol and one revolver, and to top it all, the long barrel of a precision energy rifle, the mark of a sniper by trade and the surefire sign that one was involved in either bounty hunting or an outright war, and there were precious few of the latter left. Would it be enough?



    Only one way to tell. He crumpled the letter, the starchy paper folding and compressing easily, and swallowed it, moving out of the bar. Observation first, then movement. His guns didn't deal well with overheating, so a prolonged firefight was out of the question.
     
  3. "What do you want! I'll tell you what ever you want!" The four armed alien squealed. Madam nodded as he held the alien with her arm around his neck. "Of course you are. Do you deal in slaves?" She said coldly. The tiger swiped through the bars and ripped the aliens coat, a terrified choked scream left him as he shook his head quickly. "No! No! Slavery is outlawed by most systems! I don't deal in that sort of thing!" He cried. But his comment seemed to irritated. She held him tighter and spoke louder. "Taking animals from protected planets is outlawed by most systems and here you have a zhuilian tiger!" She yelled back as she moved him closer to the furious animal.

    He squealed again. "I don't sell people! I don't sell people! That's a whole 'nother level! I don't deal in slaves! I swear I don't! But I can tell you who does!" Madam nodded as she pulled him away from the cage. That's a shame, she thought to herself, I really wanted to let the tiger tear off an arm or two. For the moment she was unaware of the man whom had accepted the challenge of trying to take her down. Nor was she aware he had seen her and was headed her way.
     
  4. Altair made his way slowly across the hallway, his tight-fitting shoes and clothing making not a rustle. He'd been forced to practice quiet movement that did not draw attention by the claustrophobic, deadly atmosphere of his home planet, a warren of gladiator pits, slave auctions, and illegal drug deals that only the most careful could successfully navigate. He feigned attention in a display showing the latest energy guns, as if he had the IC on hand to waste on a shiny commercial model, modified to remove the power constraints. Resisting the urge to inform the salesman that an energy pistol with such a high power discharge would result in a charge time of something like four hours, he nodded along with the presentation, watching Madam out of the corner of his eye and slowly working his way towards her.

    After something like thirty seconds, he was about five meters away from her. Close enough to make the shot. Though the reward specified that either of dead or alive would be perfectly satisfactory to GOV, he wasn't sure that he wanted to kill her. Call me chauvinistic, but I hate dealing with women and children. No, a leg shot would be perfectly fine. He inched his hand over to draw his left pistol, and aimed it carefully, experienced eyes telling him that his shot would just miss the femoral artery. Now.

    The pistol heated against his skin as he squeezed the trigger, a shot of blue las-light streaking across his vision-- and missed by maybe an inch, scattering its heat into a cage, the animal within setting up an awful howl. Cursing-- missed the chance-- Altair weighed his options, then drew a las-knife, clicking it on, and shot a look at the recharge counter. Ten seconds. He couldn't make it to his ship, he was sure of that. She'd shoot him down. Maybe his only choice was to stand and fight, but she could also feasibly beat him into the ground in ten seconds. His mind whirling, he braced for an attack.

    [[ Feel free to pwn him-- he won't be expecting her to be strong. ^^ ]]
     
  5. "There-There's a few shady traders towards the south end! There's more than one guy! It-it's a few!" Jackpot. This was better than Madam had anticipated. More than one trader was good, that meant this post was receiving a steady supply. Which meant a steady supplier. But was this another long line of this never ending food chain? She'd clawed her way through so many people. How many more would she have to claw through to find the source?

    Now the question remained, was this seller 'friends' with the slave traders at the south end? Would he alert them? Killing him would cause a scene which could obviously alert the slave traders. Let him live he could squeal. These thoughts came to a sudden and abrupt halt when a energy bolt from an energized weapon missed her leg by mere inches and hitting the tiger's paw. The cat howled in pain and snarled viciously. With a movement that was second nature, she shoved the four armed alien against the cage with the cat and drew her weapon. The animal was so anxious to let out it's aggression on something lunged at the man with out a second thought, despite it's injured paw.

    Madam seemed indifferent to the alien being mauled to death through the cage, his screams alerting everyone in the area. The instant she turned she fired the energy weapon at her attacker. The pair or energy weapons she carried hit fast and recharged fast. This meant that they also didn't hit for very hard. Then again Madam was more deadly in close combat. Her weapon's energy bolt hit the man's shoulder, causing imbalance and a flesh wound.

    These precious next seconds her lithe form bolted from her spot, swinging her strong leg at the the man. Her boot connected with his face, knocking him down. She followed him to the ground with a punch and her knee in his chest. Her energy weapon now against his chin. "Do you have any idea who you just shot at!?" She demanded of him, but upon looking him over she realized this was no ordinary man. But a bounty hunter. First she scoffed. Then she laughed, the synthetic distortion making it sound disconcerting. "I'm curious... How high is the price on my head?" She cooed.

    But her interrogation was interrupted by the trader post guards. Former pirates and hunter's themselves a trader post guard was as often as mean as a targen war dog, being loyal to the station and it's all time residents. They allowed the trading, even of slaves, as long as peace was kept. Madam looked at the bloodied alien who's life was now fading from him as the zhuilian tiger ripped him to pieces through the cage and the man under her. The peace had been broken. Wailing horns blared as no doubt someone alerted the guards of the situation.
     
  6. Altair's eyes widened to see an energy bolt flashing from Madam's gun; though he twisted, trying to avoid it, he felt it enter his shoulder, spreading scorching pain through the right side of his chest. Damn-- He backed away, but not quickly enough. The woman's leg hit him square in the nose, and he fell down hard. Close combat sure as hell wasn't his specialty; rather, strategy and intelligence was, but that did him little good in a situation like this. The cold metal of an energy weapon pressed against his chin, and his eyes narrowed. Am I fast enough to get the las-knife out and into the gun before she shoots me? He had to admit that there was no way in hell he'd get out of that one. His hands relaxed, moving away form each other.

    A klaxon began to ring, the sound throbbing in time with his wound. "Well, Madam--" he winced as the pain in his shoulder worsened-- "You might be flattered by the fact that your bounty topped 4.5 billion." Enough to live out a long, happy retirement on a vacation planet, a future that appeared to be swiftly receding from the bounty hunter, much to his chagrin. Worse, Madam's mask made it impossible for him to tell what she was thinking. He had always relied upon facial expression when judging a mark. One didn't want to take in a target who was confident in his surroundings-- better to wait for someone who was new to the planet.

    Might as well make an appeal, though. He swallowed and spread his arms appeasingly, or at least as much as he could with her crouching on his chest. "You know, there might be a nice, peaceful solution to this. The guards aren't going to be very happy about either of us-- how about I skedaddle back to my ship and you head back to yours and we save this fight for another day?" He smiled winningly, even though he knew there was little chance of her letting him go. To be honest, I wouldn't let a possible source of information out of my hands if someone found me on a trading post in the middle of nowhere, and even if I couldn't get the information out of him, I'd kill him, no second thoughts. His eyes flickered to one side, the clack of the guards' boots drawing closer. "Unless, of course, a fight with those guards was your childhood aspiration."
     
  7. "4.5 billion eh?" She could do a lot with 4.5 billion credits. Her mind thought over the different topics at hand, easily multitasking the things before her. That many credits was worth faking her death over. She was already plotting how she could pull it off as she looked over the man under her. Tilting her head as he moved to a submissive position. She needed to deal with him first. Or run from the guards first. Then deal with him. Her masked face stared blankly at him as he spoke, but her face hidden was that of amusement. Behind her mask she smiled as he tried to charm his way out of this.

    "You're cute. But you either are not very bright or have high hopes." She cooed and even with the synthetic voice it sounded flirty. "None of which will save you." She said in a dark tone. "Get up." She gripped the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. She pushed him forward with the energy pistol held to the back of his head. Before she passed the cage with the now dead alien and zhuilian tiger she pulled the pistol away for a fleeting moment to shoot the lock off the cage. The cat snarled as it shoved through the open door.

    She looked at the cat and in her field of vision she saw the guards coming. Their energy rifles ready. She pushed Altair forward again as she tried to duck out of site.

    ((Feel free to control any of the guards and have Altair fight for his freedom. :D She'll of course just pursue him.))
     
  8. Altair cursed inwardly. She didn't even blink at his efforts. Damn. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the metal floor, finding it after an embarrassing few seconds of imbalance. He had barely begun to think about running when the energy pistol came up against the back of his head, and he was pushed forwards roughly. Damn, damn. He didn't want to get in a game of chicken against an energy pistol. He had no doubt that Madam would shoot if provoked; he was lucky to still be alive. Damn you, Roth! This is your fault! He was going to murder his friend when-- if-- he got out of this gigantic mess.

    The guards shouted angrily, the klaxon still ringing, energy rifles charged and blinking. As the illegal animal snarled, a shot soaked into the metal floor barely five inches from his foot, and he flinched, deciding that enough was enough. One hand sweeping up to cover the back of his head, a heat sink ring guarding it from energy shots, he ducked downwards to minimize his size as a target and made a hard left into what must have been a maintenance passageway, a shortcut he had threatened someone into revealing maybe a month ago, on an earlier visit to the trading post. Wires dragged through his hair as he stumbled over coils of piping, the viscera of the post all around him, the sounds of steam gauges making it impossible to tell if he was being followed. If I can just get to my ship. Damn, if she catches me I'm dead. But he had confidence in his skills as a pilot, unlike his skills in close combat.

    He'd pulled in next to one of the only open docks in the entire post, though. It wasn't unlikely that Madam's ship was near his, in which case his maneuverability would be limited. Damn!
     
  9. In that split second that Madam took to release the illegal cat from it's cage her own prey escaped her grasp. She gasped and darted after him with out second thought. She shoved her energy pistol back into it's holster as she ran. As much as she wanted to open fire upon the guards they were not worth the effort. However the rat scrambling away from her was very much worth it. She ducked and dodged the gun fire that lit up around her. Her normally silent boots slamming the metal ground as she ran after Altair.

    She caught a glimpse of him slide into an alley way she never knew existed. Good to know this is here... She thought as she put a mental note in her mind of it's location. Wires brushed against her suit and wisps of steam fogged her goggles on the out side. Quickly she pulled the goggles up so that she could still see. Pale fair skin surrounded her emerald green almond shaped eyes. Her eyes narrowing in determination as she caught mere glimpses of where Altair was headed.

    She was aware that her ship was too far away from this dock. Which meant she absolutely could not allow him to get on a ship with out her. The com link in her ear came alive with one of her men alerting her. "Madam, it appears as you have sufficiently ruffled some feathers. The guards are now demanding we leave dock." Damn. Now there was a damper on the situation. "Copy that. Do as they say. I'll rendezvous with you later. Madam out." She said into the com. "Roger that Madam." The man on the link replied.

    She slipped out to another dock, naturally the one her ship was not docked in. Her plan suddenly changed. She knew she could take on the trading post, with determination and ferocity. But that wasn't necessary nor was it relevant to her greater plan. She needed another ship. The bounty hunter's ship would do just fine. Goggles still on her forehead she darted after him, her green eyes narrowing as she pulled a dagger from her belt.
     
  10. Altair pulled himself out of the electrical tunnel with some effort, breath wheezing through his mouth as he sprinted across the dock, weaving with all the skill of a lifetime of experience between carts of products and larger aliens. Adrenaline dulled the pain in his shoulder to a fuzzy burn, and he instinctively ducked lower to make himself a smaller target, hearing the boots of the station police. He didn't have any crew onboard-- he flew solo or not at all-- so sending a comm for backup was pointless. "Damn!" he muttered, catching sight of Madam following him, no doubt intending to capture or kill.

    He raised his wrist-cuff a good ten meters from the door, sending the command to open the hatch to his ship. It was a small fighter needle, very long, with powerful engines along the bottom for increased maneuverability. He'd also made a few modifications, all quite illegal, which made it both extremely dangerous and effectively impossible for anyone except him to fly. Those who assumed his ship was weak on account of its small size or lack of offboard energy cannons would have some nasty surprises in store.

    He slipped under the partially-up door, then frantically smashed the down button, cursing as it continued to go up. I thought I'd fixed this problem! With a mix of panic and chagrin at his own carelessness, he passed through the open airlock, gave up on making it descend immediately and climbed the ladder to the central part of the ship as rapidly as he could. I can control everything from the pilot's seat if I can get there before her. And if he got killed, he could look forward to her crashing the ship. While the controls looked manageable at first, directions were completely reversed, and the system was more akin to a fighter game from mankind's early days than ordinary spaceship controls.

    He passed through the engine room, cursing himself for not at least hiring a doctor. Trust issues notwithstanding, how the hell will I deal with this injury? I'll get infected far before reaching a proper civilized planet. Even hyperdrive had its drawbacks.

    [[ Attack and damage the ship or my charrie if you want-- I don't mind how the next part goes down. :) ]]
     
  11. Madam kept her eyes aware and open for any ship that would have a hatch open. Green eyes focused on the small needle fighter who's hatch began to open. It wasn't much to look at and could only be piloted by either a small crew or one person. But she knew better than to assume the small ship was a junker. More than likely she assumed the ship was well equipped, with powerful engines. She did however assume the little fighter would be cake to pilot. Killing the bounty hunter and taking his ship just became part of her to-do list.

    Her boots pounded the ground as she ran after him as he got into his ship. She tried to put in an extra burst of speed when she say him slamming the button of the hatch. She had to make it there before the hatch closed. He disappeared from sight but her eyes remained on the now closing metal doors. Laser fire lit up from behind her. Sparks flew as the shots hit the ship leaving small burn marks in the hull. Really pissed em off didn't I? She mused to herself as she neared the door which had become too low for her to just duck under.

    As she ran she still held the dagger, her free hand pulled a grenade and she quickly pulled the pin. But she waited till she was closer. She threw it behind her just before she jumped and rolled under the closing door. Laser fire missed her by mere inches and a loud boom set off behind her. She knew it would only infuriate them but it would also maybe get them off her long enough to they to the bridge of the ship. She sighed as the door made a soft thud beside her as it closed. Pushing herself to her feet she ran after the man again.

    She managed to catch up with him as he reached the ships controls. Her foot lashed out, kicking him in the back of the knee to cause him to fall. Her hand gripped his collar and the dagger came towards his neck in a downward motion. But the kill was not performed as the ship shook and made her stagger. "What? There firing at the ship..." She sneered as she looked around. It was that moment that she realized that this was not a ship like she'd ever piloted before. She stared a little longer than normal at the controls. There's no way I can figure out the controls in time to get the hell out of here in time. She thought to herself. "Looked like I need you alive." She cooed as she let her grip drop from the man.

    ((Feel free to attack her back if you want. :3 Madam is pretty touch and can take the hits.))
     
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