We were told...

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Cerulean, Oct 13, 2013.

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  1. spaceship001.jpg
    "We were told that they couldn't leave, and they didn't like that."- Journal excerpt from Samuel Broker, victim of the Orion Incident
    It was an average day....or permanent night, if you couldn't get past being on a ship. The UEC Russia was a trade vessel that also took on passengers. The boarding was its usual, chaotic self for the underpaid workers. People moving up and down the hallways like self-important cattle, for slaughter. They mostly sought refuge...few would find it tonight. Few would find anything other than their lives ripped away. For now, they could rest and be together.
    Bang, Bang
    His gun fired with lethal force. Energy blast flew down the range and smacked the target, sending it away. It was free pistol range day, at the armory. Anyone with a legal license was allowed to come down and test any ammo and any model. Of course, anytime a gun was not pointed at the range it wouldn't fire. So no chance of accidents...or purposes for that matter.
    Bang, Bang, Bang
    Sam Broker was a merc....and a damn good one, for the right price. He received any contracts through the company he works for. So why was he here? Garfield Deacon. Famous. Multi-Award winner in the world of acting. Owed a lot of money to someone who had to funds to call for his death. He heard that he liked sports and would be at the UEFA Championship...and it was aboard this ship. Just a few blocks down, to his target.
    "Practice makes perfect." He whispered to himself.
  2. "So...you're gonna allow me to use the laser pistol now, right?" Endre Kovach said hopefully, loading an auto-machine gun on a bench not so far from his mentor. "It'll make me perfect."

    He had done so terribly in their last mission together, just because of the laser pistol that Endre had never tried. He did considerably well with the old school bullets but they were practically useless when gravity was switched off. He's just being prepared, right?

    The boy's eyebrows met in apparent frustration, not at his mentor but at himself for not doing a better job than he actually could. He knew his aim never missed. But that one shot with the laser pistol was terrible. Just terrible. He wants to beat his own record.
  3. The rookie...New guy....Noob, it spoke. He turned his head slightly, differentiating Endre's voice from the other sounds around them. Hearing what was said, the mercenary fired several more rounds. Every last one smacked into the target, sending it away. The weapon clicked. It was empty. "Try not to make anyone blind this time." Tone was a bit cold and almost vengeful. His personal firearm was flung across the room, without a clip. There wasn't any ammunition for it, that was not being held by Broker himself.

    Regardless of whether or not Endre caught it, a secondary pistol was pulled from the suit. Most of the technology he used were prototypes. Such as cracker sized devices, that when pressed, turns into the gun that is shown on the front. Samuel would ask for double pay, for being a guinea pig, if the tech wasn't so damn useful. Not a single thing that was given to him failed, except for that damn rookie. He really shouldn't be too angry....but now he can't see because of that punk. What's worse is that he has to drag him around space until the company sees fit to separate them.

    "If you want to use a lazer pistol, you have to learn to aim it."
  4. Endre instinctively jumped after the pistol, dropping the auto machine gun with a loud and noise which in turn surprised him. The ammo he hasn't loaded also clattered on the ground and he didn't even catch the pistol. He let out an exasperated sigh, thumping his fists on the ground as he grabbed the pistol. He growled, expletives are always the first things to come in mind when he's so full of emotion.

    He picked up the pistol and the auto machine gun in each hand. Other people his age and experience level might have staggered a bit at the weight, but one thing that made him easily recognized by the higher ups was his strength and accuracy. He may be clumsy and somewhat brash but he has some raw talent up his sleeve and he knows it. He expects himself to excel and knowing he failed frustrates him too much.

    And why does his mentor seem too...nonchalant?!

    "Aiming isn't the problem! Its parts are different. Its weight is different!" He grumbled, dropping the other two guns angrily. He ruffled his already tousled blond hair.
  5. The soundwaves of the proceeding crash echoed into his sensors and it was all taken in. He couldn't see it, under the helmet, but the whole Barnum & Bailey theatrics made Broker smile. The just-a-few-years-younger-than-he-merc was still under the impression that situation required that kind of response. If they were under fire, he might understand. Being a clumsy teenager, not so much. At least he didn't start cussing out a guard and get them both thrown out. Hopefully, more action will dull the adrenaline emotion until it is truly needed soon. At least, that was what fightining tended to do. Desensitize.

    "I am going to ignore that excuse that you just tried to give to a man whom you took the eyesight from. Instead, I am going to tell you something else. The statement is that if you keep dropping your gear, not only are you going to pay for it financially...."

    Broker leaned out of his stall to glare directly at Endre.

    "...I will take it out of your ass if your guns malfunction when I need them most. Got it, rookie?" He growled.

    Without even waiting for an answer, he goes back to firing down range.

    "Start aiming....now."
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