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Here's the first installment of the story I told VO last night ingame. The next installment will be told this evening with any luck at all. I was making it up as I went along, so it's not perfect or fantastic but it's pretty good for what it is. I rewrote it slightly to improve the flow and eliminate some of its flaws. I hope you enjoy it!
*
Chapter 1
*
Shlimazel put the his feet up on the control panel of his Warthog 2 as he surveyed the sector. It was quiet like the grave all of a sudden. Shlimazel didn't like it; it was too convenient after those run ins with peytros. Shlimazel wondered what the man was plotting. There was a burst of static and the radio blared suddenly- "Shlimazel?" the man on the crackling radio asked. "Right," Shlimazel said. "Who's asking?" "It's me, Grover. I got some goons on my trail, dunno what they want." Shlimazel sighed. "I'm in the middle of Odia, Grover. What the hell do you think I can do about it?" "I'm in Odia too, dumbass," Grover said. Shlimazel thought he heard a certain fear in Grover's static distorted voice. "Look, just give me a hand, ok? Meet me in Odia J-9." The signal cut off. Shlimazel shook his head; there was no way he was going to go meet with the old guy. Not when there was trouble around.
But he found himself plotting a course for J-9 regardless.
Shlimazel's ship shuddered and shook as it exited from intersector jump. Grover was an informant, working for VPR undercover in the criminal community. A former criminal himself, Grover'd seen the error of his ways. Shlimazel knew the second he left his post, he was risking pirates moving into Sedina, but Grover had taken a lot of risks for VPR. Shlimazel owed the man an assist.
J-9 was so empty it made you lonely. Not a ship in sight. It didn't seem right. At about this point, Shlimazel wondered what he'd walked into, and just in case, he dialed on the power to his Neutron 2.
The docking was uneventful. Shlimazel's warthog looked like a flea on the massive floor of the docking bay, which was almost empty. Shlimazel quickly geared up in the constrains of his ship's small quarters, pulling on his trench coat and sliding an Arkham M-3 Executer into his shoulder holster. The plasma pistol had enough power to blow three men into ashes at full power. But just in case, he pulled out a Neutron Submachinegun and concealed it under his coat.
The docking crew was professional and efficient as they made arrangements for repair and refueling. "Remember to look at the dorsal heat sink, it's been causing me grief lately," Shlimazel advised over his shoulder as he headed into the Burg. So, walking away as he was, he didn't see the look the crewers cast at him. Nor did he notice the device they placed on his drives.
The Burg used to be a standard pattern habitation block, like most of the ones used in Odia stations. Then hard people like those that lived in Odia now moved in, and it went from a fairly bland, conventional horizontal living space, to a hard, ugly place full of despair and lost souls, where no sane person with a dime to spare would ever tread.
It was also one of the easiest places in Odia to hook into the criminal underground.
Shlimazel knew what would constitute a hiding place to Grover; a bar in the middle of the Burg, on no corner anyone ever visited. Shlimazel went up a stair and headed down a corridor on the first level. The heavy hitters lived up high in the horizontal landscape; down here was a wasteland of humanity. It didn't actually take that long for him to find Grover. Shlimazel spotted him slouched under flickering flourescent lights in a dead, bored bar.
Shlimazel sat down at the table next to Grover. A bored looking bargirl asked what Shlimazel wanted, and he ordered a whiskey. At the sound of Shlimazel's voice, Grover looked up surrepticiously. Shlimazel glanced at him, and Grover looked away quickly. Shlimazel sighed inside, then went and sat at Grover's table. "What's up?" Shlim asked him under the glare of the naked flourescent bulb. He muttered something indistinct. Shlimazel leaned closer. "What?" Grover shook his grizzled head slowly. His face was cast into shadow by the brim of his hat. "I said," he muttered, " 'It's a trap, you moron asshole.' "
Just then, Shlimazel heard feet coming up the corridor. "What the hell is this?" Shlimazel hissed. "I'm an old man, kid," Grover said flatly. "I wanted to live to get older, y'know?" "Right," Shlimazel said, pulling the Executor pistol from its shoulder holster and the Neutron Submachinegun from behind his back.
"I wouldn't mind that myself," Shlimazel said. He set the pistol on the table and lifted the Submachinegun. The barman looked at him and dove for cover.
Armor clad men burst through the doorway. "Hands in the air! Corvus-"
Shlimazel was not a bad shot. In fact, he was a pretty good shot. But he was carrying a neutron submachinegun, which fired 100 neutron bolts in thirty seconds. Each shot was roughly equivalent to a 50 calibre machinegun bullet. With all that, he didn't need to be a good shot.
He held down the trigger, and the walls were splashed with insides and chunks of remarkably ineffective armor plating. The gun hissed furiously as it overheated; Shlimazel glanced at it and swore. He'd have to dump it, it overheated too fast. He dropped it and grabbed the Executor off the table. Checking the settings, he saw it was on maximum power. The men were Corvus security. If there were some of them involved, all of them were involved. Shlimazel had wasted these, but more would be on their way.
He looked around quickly and saw a vent grating. He went quickly over and looked at it. It was small, and cramped. But he might, just might, be able to get out that way.
He turned to Grover. "Come on, old fart. This won't be fun, but-" Then Shlimazel noticed the puddle beneath the chair. "Damn," Shlimazel said. "When did they even get a chance to shoot?"
He could hear feet running outside. He holstered the gun, then wrenched the grate off of the wall and climbed in.
*The J9 Docking Bay*
The overhead grating rattled and shook. It was stuck. A blinding blast of plasma light solved that problem, and Shlimazel dropped onto the top of his ship. At least, he thought it was his ship, until he realized that he was in the wrong docking bay. Shlimazel facepalmed.
It was not a fun trip back to the main docking bay. But he was lucky, and he was able to blend with crowds as he went.
The station had been put on high alert. They were looking for him. It didn't make any sense-Covrus was dirty as shit rolled in mud, but they wouldn't hit a VPR unless they had a very good reason to do so.
Finding his ship was easy. There weren't even any guards in the bay waiting for him. And so, he was immediately suspicious. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to check the ship over, since there were people after him.
Unfortunately, he got aboard and took off.
And beneath the ship, a small red light flickered to life as a device activated and began a mysteriously menacing countdown...
Shlimazel grimaced as he saw the Corvus strike force taking off in pursuit. "Damnit, what is this mess?" he said angrily as he piled on the turbo power. He outraced and outperformed the slower ships, and made a narrow escape.
But what would the future hold for him?
*
Chapter 2
*
Shlimazel exited the wormhole at O6 Sedina with the recent events running through his head. It was so bizarre that Corvus would set an elaborate trap like it had done so that it could catch a VPR. Corvus wasn't as blunt as certain pirate agencies; it had been around too long to be unsubtle. They wouldn't have layed such a trap without an extreme provocation, and Shlimazel had done nothing to upset them.
Shlimazel was just about to lay in a course for Sedina L-2 when he heard a sudden clunk in his ship. Ships do not clunk. "What is that noise?" Shlimazel wondered, suddenly concerned. If something was making noise then something was out of the ordinary.
Moving quickly he checked his controls. Everything seemed ordinary.. Then he took a look at his heat sinks and saw that one was stuck. Something was obstructing the heatsink's vents.
That would account for the noise, but what would be responsible for it? Shlimazel looked at it again, and noticed a powerdrain from a point on the hull. Something was tapping into the ship's power grid. And from the energy patterns...
"Shit!" Shlimazel muttered. "That's a bomb!"
There was only one thing to do; Shlimazel activated the Lectertronica MK2 Escape Module built into his cockpit. He noticed a sudden energy spike from the hull point, and realized he had only seconds to escape. Ignoring the standard safety precautions, he made sure the pod was secure and slammed the eject button.
The Warthog 2 shrunk into the distance as he blasted out of the sector. Shlimazel checked the distance indicator... 2000... 2300...
A new sun flared as his ship went up. The energy readings were massive. "Damn," Shlimazel mused. "Sure hope my insurance covers that..."
Shlimazel watched the distance indicator hit 3000 klicks, slapped the activation toggle and let the cosmos roll by.
***
Shlimazel sat in L2, making plans to resolve his situation.
Shlimazel had replaced his ship with only a bit of difficulty. He'd bought one with special security systems on it in case of sabotage. He was in the bar, crafting an elaborate plan to discover the truth behind the Corvus plot to eliminate him, when the news came on the holo.
"Corvus security forces are out looking for VPR pilot Shlimazel, who is wanted on suspicion of murdering a Corvus official," the smiling newswoman announced. Shlimazel headdesked. All that planning and he finds out the truth from the NEWS?
Shlimazel was certainly not guilty of murdering anyone, especially not a corvus official. He only killed bad people doing bad things, not corvus officals who..ok, were doing bad things, but were much too dangerous for him to attack, both in terms of danger in combat and danger to VPR's reputation.
The next logical step was to find out why Corvus thought Shlimazel had killed a corvus official. It was clear that Shlimazel had been framed, but the question was who had done the framing? And WHY?
Shlimazel decided the best way to go about it would be to investigate the scene of the crime. With luck, he'd be able to find a clue that would lead him to his framers. Since the news hadn't said where the man was killed, Shlim would have to do a bit of investigation to figure out where to look.
And so, Shlimazel began the arduous task of assembling an alternate persona, with which to infiltrate the Corvus computer systems and learn where the man was killed.
***
About three days of hard work later, the Revenant of a Serco pilot named Zulu Bob set down at Sedina D14.
Zulu Bob was stopped at the dock checkpoint by Corvus security. They checked his ID carefully while levelling guns on him. He checked out.
Covus security kept automated surveilance on him for an hour as a normal precaution. Then they moved on to more interesting things.
About four hours after the individual docked, Corvus security discovered him leaving a restricted area. The individual had almost made his escape before they caught him.
The Corvus security took him in on suspicion of industrial espionage charges. He was sat in the chrome walled interrogation cell and made to wait. About an hour passed before he was finally interviewed by security. This delay was used to make the man nervous.
In theory at least.
***
Shlimazel squinted at the lights. He still hadn't adjusted to them yet. He was prepared for his arrogant serco defiance of corvus security, though.
The corvus security finally entered the room. Shlimazel jumped up; "WHY are you holding me, you pathetic fools?!" he demanded. "Honorless sons of drakhs!" Shlimazel snarled. "I'm holding a valuable cargo aboard my ship, and I cannot afford delay by prigs like yourself!"
"Yeah, well, buddy-I could give a crap." the man said flatly. "We know all about what you're doing here."
Shlimazel braced himself. Apparently, they'd figured out what was what. He prepared his counters-
"We don't take kindly to ONE people busting in here and screwing around with us," the copper said menacingly.
Shlimazel stared.
"What, did you think we're stupid? It took us five seconds to figure out what you were up to, you toaster," the copper said, smug and secure in his overwhelming cunning.
Shlimazel facepalmed.
With a certain despair for humanity, he said "Ok, you weakling, you've figured me out."
"I think the HAC's should be arriving to extract me any second now," he continued. "I suggest you let me go."
The corvus security men looked at each other. Then they left the room very quickly.
***
About ten minutes later, the Serco pilot known as Zulu Bob left D14 with 17tb's of stolen corvus information on a datacard.
***
After returning to L2 and studying the intel, Shlimazel put his feet up on his desk and considered the possibilities. The man had been killed at the odia station at C2 odia. That was his next stop; clearly he'd have to look for clues there.
Shlimazel suspected the Zulu Bob alt had outlived its usefulness however.
Perhaps he would need to call in an old favor, from someone who was on the inside of Corvus's operation...
An old friend, named...
MISTER CHAOS.
*
Chapter 3
*
Mr Chaos wasn't having a good day. The infiltration of Corvus security was an arduous task at best, but today he had the headaches of this dumb business with VPR to worry about. He was looking forward to sitting down in his quarters and letting his worries go away.
Then he noticed a message from Shlimazel and sighed. No rest for the weary, he thought, and answered it.
***
"So what was so important that I had to leave my post and hoof it into Sedina for a face to face meeting?" Chaos demanded, his body concealed in a trenchcoat. "I'm sure you were just devastated to leave that post, Chaos," Shlim said calmly, stirring his coffee.
"Yeah, well..." Chaos grunted. Chaos pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "So what's up?"
"You know about Corvus trying to off me I assume," Shlim said. "I need to get into Odia C2 and see if I can figure out who set me up,"
"Pfft, C2 is hardly corvus territory," Chaos snorted. "What's up with you Shlim?"
"Yeah, but the official was murdered there, and Corvus has got the station under lockdown," Shlimazel said. "I need your help to get in."
"Can't you just ask your pal Zulu Bob to help you out?" Chaos asked with a certain smugness to his voice.
"Very funny," Shlim said. "I suppose you saw right through that didn't you?"
"Given your terrible characterization....." Chaos said. He deepened his voice; "I AM A MIGHTY SERCO YOU PATHETIC WORM, FEAR MY POWER!"
Shlimazel shook his head. "Fine, I'm a terrible actor," Shlim said.
Chaos nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Anyway, why do you think I'll help you? It might compromise my position, which would be dangerous for ONE."
"We're pals, Chaos. There shouldn't need to be any other reason for you to help me when I'm in mortal danger," Shlimazel said, taking a swig of his coffee.
"Oh geez," Chaos said. "Laying it on a little thick aren't you?" Chaos shook his head, then said "We'll take the hovercraft in. Wear something..." Chaos looked at Shlim's VPR uniform. "Less distinctive."
*The C2 Landing Bay*
"How do I look?" Shlimazel asked, adjusting his hat and pulling up the collar on his trenchcoat."
"Ehh, fine by me," Chaos said, lighting up another cigarette. "Just stick close."
"Those are gonna kill you someday y'know," Shlim said, adjusting his Executor plasma pistol in its shoulder holster.
"Hah, I doubt it. Nothing's killed me yet," Chaos said. "Besides, I'm a serco. I got augmentic lungs."
Chaos looked ahead. "Checkpoint coming up," he observed. "Stick with me because these guards are probably twitchy, and I don't want your corpse on my conscious."
The guards did look twitchy. Getting sworn at all day by resentful Ineubis citizens is not conducive to a stable mental attitude. The guards levelled Neutron Submachineguns at our heros as they approached the guard position;
"Show your ID and registration!" the lead guard snarled through his helmet speaker. Mr. Chaos pulled out his Corvus Security ID card and flashed it at the guards without slowing down.
The Corvus security force ID was very distinctive, and given the trademark ruthlessness of Corvus internal security, the guards didn't dare to stop Chaos. He simply bulled through them with Shlimazel in tow.
It didn't take them long to get to the place where the man Shlim was supposed to have killed was murdered. Chaos sorted the security people out left and right along the route, barking orders and giving directions right up until they entered the room.
"-And I want it done by next thursday!" Chaos yelled into the corridor just as the door into the room closed.
"Alright," Chaos said as Shlimazel surveyed the room. The Corvus forensics experts had gone over it closely, but he wanted to see it for himself. "So what exactly is it you intend to look for?" Chaos asked as he lit up a cigarette.
"Won't know until I see it," Shlimazel said, pulling a table out of the way carefully to look at a dent in the wall.
"I'll be outside," Chaos said. He closed the door behind him.
Shlimazel went and looked over the place the body was found.
A massive black scar on the bulkhead showed that the weapon was a plasma weapon. Plasma sidearms were not commonly owned; Shlimazel had a hard time getting ahold of the ones he used.
Shlimazel decided to go and look at the forensics writeups on the crimescene. He liked to avoid that because it was boring, but...
In this case he'd just have to suffer with it. There wasn't enough here in the way of clues. Collecting Chaos from the corridor, the two of them made their way to the makeshift security HQ of the Corvus forces; a docked Atlas with security and surveillance equipment bolted on, and a perimeter of heavily armed security troops around it.
The sergeant in charge of the Corvus troops turned as they approached. The man was a six foot tall, three foot wide Serco ex-soldier.
His eyes were glowing red augmentic implants, and he had armored plates on his head. "What in blazes are you sons of drakhs doing in my security zone?!" he snarled, spittle flying from his fang implanted jaws.
Mr. Chaos shook his head slowly as he approached.
"Mister," Mr. Chaos said, cold as a freon iceberg, "Do you know what I am?"
"Yeah, pal-" the hulking flesh-prom retorted, "You're in my effing security zone, and I don't appreciate it."
"I hope you don't think you can threaten me," Mr. Chaos told the hulking Corvus security sergeant. "Because if you do, well...." Mr. Chaos produced his Corvus ID card. "This should clarify just how dangerous that would be,"
The massive serco took the ID card and examined it. His extensively rebuilt features paled. "Er, well," the man said, "Maybe we could work something out..."
Moments later Mr. Chaos and Shlimazel were inside the makeshift Corvus HQ, examining records at their leisure. "You know, that must be some authorization you have, Chaos," Shlim observed as he flipped through the files on the crime scene.
"You have no idea," Chaos said smugly as he whipped out his seventh cigarette of the hour and lit up.
"Here we go," shlimazel said, pulling out some of the files and examining them. "These are the original forensics reports that Ineubis did, before Corvus took over the scene."
Shlimazel examined them carefully. Apparently, the charred remains of the dead man were scattered all over the room. This fit in with the scar found in the bulkhead, which could only have been caused by a plasma sidearm.
There wasn't enough in these documents to give him an idea who had framed Shlim for the murder. Shlim set them aside. He pulled out a list of reports on the official's activities and looked at it carefully.
Apparently the official was engaged in some sort of underhanded business arrangements with an obscure organization. These arrangments were heavily classified, but apparently officially sanctioned. Shlim wondered if the official had pissed someone off he shouldn't have..
He frowned. Something wasn't right with these numbers. Shlim decided to look at the officials personal files.
Finding the official's account information and comparing it to the report the official sent in, he noted that there was a lot of money that was going into the official's financial accounts which couldn't be accounted for in his reports to his superiors.
Shlimazel put everything down and thought carefully. It seemed that the official had been skimming profit off of the top of this secret arrangement for himself.
He even went so far as to lie on his official reports to Corvus. Shlimazel could see two things that could have happened; Either he had pissed off someone in the criminal community...
Or corvus found out about this unpleasant little secret.
Either way, whoever had done it would have good reason to want to frame someone for having performed the murder. And VPR, being criminal killing vigilantes, were a logical target.
The only problem Shlim saw was that Corvus blamed Shlim, specifically, and had layed a trap to get shlim himself, not VPR in general. There wasn't enough evidence to honestly be able to accuse Shlimazel in particular of having performed the murder. Simply having been killed with a weapon that a VPR was known to carry wasn't exactly the hardest evidence possible.
Shlimazel was going to take a closer look at some of the files, when he heard loud footsteps approaching the room.
A group of heavily armored Corvus troops barged into the room, lead by a tall, angry looking man in a black leather trenchcoat. The man looked like he was going to explode with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?!" he bellowed.
"He's with me," Mr Chaos said in a rather blase fashion, smoking his cig casually.
"And I'd like to know what you're doing here, too! This is a classified area!" the corvus man said angrily.
"Maybe this will clear things up," Chaos said, handing the man his Corvus ID.
"Ah, I see, a measely third class clearance and you think you own the station?" the man sneered. "Well, look at this!" He handed Chaos his own ID card.
Chaos looked at it. He stared. The cigarette fell out of his mouth, ignored. "Aww, shit..." he muttered.
"AS you can see, I have class SEVEN corvus clearance!" the man said haughtily. "Now, you two are coming with us!"
"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," Mr Chaos said calmly.
"OH?" the man said angstily. "And WHY is that?"
"Because," Chaos said. "My partner is behind you with a plasma pistol."
He turned. And indeed, Shlim had his plasma pistol out. The Arkham Executor's gun barrel seemed like a jackhammer tube from where they stood.
Shlimazel had never believed in snappy banter. He preferred to simply obliterate his enemies with a well placed blast. And so, he did.
"Let's get out of here, NOW," Chaos said.
"Fine by me," Shlim said, stepping over the charred piles of ash and grabbing up some files. He stuffed them away, and they fled the room.
"Why did I agree to this?" Chaos muttered, pulling out his Gauss rifle. "I knew this was going to be trouble."
"Because you like to kick ass?" Shlim suggested, checking the action on his pistol.
"Ah, good point," Chaos said sanguinely, slapping a heavy duty powercell into place on his rifle.
***
Corvus's makeshift security HQ on the Ineubis base was a docked Atlas outfitted with security and surveillance gear.
It had been wired into the station's security net and power grid, and was heavily secured by Corvus troops.
There were automated neutron machineguns surrounding the ship and serco gaunt handlers on patrol.
Corvus didn't stand a chance.
***
Mr Chaos blew away the security guards as they tried to sneak up behind them. "So where were we going again?" he demanded.
"Um," Shlimazel said as he frantically layed down suppressive fire. "Well, they have this neatly sewn up, don't they?" Shlim said as a gang of corvus troops advanced on their position. Mr Chaos blew their sergeant away, and the rest scattered.
"I know," Shlim said with a certain maniacal gleam in his eye. "Let's take over the ship's bridge!"
"That's actually a great idea, " Chaos said, checking his rifle. "Ok, I'll hold them off. Get to it!"
Shlimazel dodged a stream of gunfire as he bounded down the corridor. The Corvus troops were getting more accurate, or so it seemed...
Shlimazel could still hear the echoing boom of Mr Chaos's gauss rifle ringing through the corridor as Chaos blasted corvus troops. He was almost to the bridge when he heard a faint whistling sound...
Shlimazel glanced around. He couldn't see anything, but he had the strangest feeling... He hefted his plasma pistol.
Suddenly a whirling fury of claws and teeth fell on him from somewhere before he could aim his gun. Steel claws tore into his arms and chest carving red valleys of blood and gore. He screamed in pain and fury; then he jammed the pistol into the whirling mass and pulled the trigger.
Shlimazel staggered up. The remains plastered across the ceilling defied identification, but it looked like a serco creature...
Shlim staggered to the bridge of the atlas. It had been deserted by the bridge crew long since.
Shlimazel took the conn and powered up the engines. Then he began to lift off from the deck. The atlas then proceeded to power towards the docking bay doors.
What followed doubtless distressed the ineubis station officials. Indeed, they may well have cried at the thought of repairing the bay doors.
Which were smashed open by the prow of the hijacked trading vessel.
Shlimazel was feeling light headed. He looked at himself; he was soaked with blood. He gasped a short invective, then fell unconscious.
Chaos staggered into the room; "Ok, I just closed the damn doors, becuase-" Chaos saw shlim. "Oh, jesus!"
*
Read Mr. Chaos's Bonus Chapter here!
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Read Cat's first chapter here!
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Read Cat's second chapter here!
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Chapter 4
*
Shlimazel woke up. If he hadn't felt like hell, he would have said he was dead. Shlimazel looked around. Antiseptically clean, shiny, white. A hospital. "Well, I guess we made it," he muttered.
Shlimazel thought about getting up, then he started thinking about how he felt and realized what an appalingly bad idea that was.
The door opened, and Mr Chaos walked in. From behind Chaos, Shlim could hear someone yell "And NO SMOKING in the operating room!"
"Oh, nuts," Mr Chaos muttered irratably. "So," he said to Shlim, "You're actually alive still?" He closed the door. "Apparently," Shlim said wearily. "Where the hell are we?" "Dau, L10," Chaos said. Reflexively he reached for his cigarettes, then swore under his breath. "I hate hospitals and their smoking rules," Chaos muttered.
"So what happened with C2?" Shlim asked. "Ah, we ran a lot until we got away," Chaos said.
"So, I guess we didn't find much in the way of evidence, huh?" Chaos mused. "Just whatever this guy was up to, and that doesn't explain who framed you." "Yeah, we didn't get a lot out of it, sadly." Shlim said. "And I guess that wrecks your infiltration into Corvus."
"Yes, it did, Shlim. And now I can kiss my promotion goodbye," Chaos groused. "Thanks a lot."
Shlimazel had a terrible headache. He did not need Chaos's grousing. Grousing was a non essential part of the program.
"Chaos, you agreed to help me, I didn't twist your arm," Shlim said with great patience. "Anyway, I need to figure out what to do next."
"Valk helped us get out of C2 alive, yeah," Chaos said. "He's around here somewhere, I don't know."
"I'd better get up and get moving," shlim said, "I got a lot to take care of." He tried to get up, then gasped with pain.
"Yer still hurtin', boy," Chaos observed. "Better rest up. Doc said you'd be out of it for about three days."
Shlimazel exploded. "Three DAYS?" Shlim yelled hoarsely. "Damnit, I got Corvus roaring for my blood, and I need to get the %%%% out of this joint and solve this %%%%up!"
*
Read Cat's third chapter here!
*
Read Cat's fourth chapter here!
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Chapter 5
*
"And that's how I found myself in this goddamn space-cast-suit-thing," Shlim said, finishing up his explanation of recent events to Cat. "Doctor says I can't leave this room for two more days," he continued, "and I'm not too happy with it. Laid up is exactly what I don't want to be when I'm being hunted by Corvus."
"So, in summary, you know there's a conspiracy to eliminate you, but you have no idea why people are plotting it. You think Corvus is pinning that murder on you specifically to move suspicion from elsewhere, but since they could easily have pinned it on the whole of VPR, you're confused, as it makes no sense," Cat said.
"Well, you're right on one thing; it makes absolutely no sense," Cat said flatly. "None of that story does."
Shlimazel inclined his head towards his body cast. "Apparently someone thought that it did," he said hoarsely. "They thought it made enough sense to lay a trap to get me especially, then the result was that I was torn a new one. So, what's that mean?"
Cat shook her head, and lapsed into silence, thinking. Shlimazel didn't speak either, taking the opportunity to try to relax his damaged body.
"Well, whatever's going on, it's Viper business now," Cat finally said. "And we will bring this to a resolution together."
"If I ever get out of this ******* bodycast, that is," Shlim muttered.
Cat found somewhere to stay on the station while Shlimazel was recovering, taking the opportunity to examine the evidence he had found. Shlimazel recovered steadily over time as the doctors worked on him. The wounds were gruesome, but the UIT doctors were experienced and the injuries healed gradually.
Finally, Shlim was able to get out of bed. The doctor stood there and lectured in Shlimazel's direction, but Shlim ignored the man.
Shlimazel felt weak. He spent a few hours readying himself to return to duty; exercising (carefully), eating, etcetera. At least he didn't need to shave; the doctors had removed most of Shlim's bodyhair in the course of repairing his horrific injuries.
As he was finishing getting dressed, Cat walked in the room. Shlimazel jumped. "Damnit, could you at least KNOCK?" he demanded.
She looked at him distainfully, then slapped a package down in front of him. "I've found a lead you might be interested in," she said. "Take a look."
Shlimazel picked up the package and opened it. He scanned the documents inside quickly, then stopped as a name caught his eye and read back through more slowly.
"This isn't possible," Shlim said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I killed her a month ago, how-?"
We may never know how that sentence ended, as the door exploded inward and a humanoid dynamo of destruction erupted into the room.
"Ninja!" Cat snarled, barely having the time to meet the charge of the whirling figure before it was upon her. "Oh, shiiiit," Shlim said as the figure flipped over Cat and whipped a volley of xith shuriken at him.
Shlimazel hit the floor with his weapon out and fired the Arkham Executor at the ninja assassin. The plasma bolt ripped the air and blew a hole in the bulkhead.
Cat performed a flying spin kick, eyes narrowed in concentration. The ninja launched itself into the air, sank its fingers into a solid duranium bulkhead, and whipped around to kick her in the jaw.
She ignored it and grabbed the ninja's ankle in a vicelike grip as they tumbled to the ground.
Rolling and twisting, she ended up on top and tried to break its leg, but it lashed out and somehow escaped her hold. The ninja whipped out a short, xith edged blade, and ran down the wall to attack Shlimazel.
Shlimazel stood his ground. He wasn't a close combat expert by the longest of shots, but he was highly experienced in unconventional warfare.
He dove at the ninja's ankles, as the ninja ran along the wall at him.
The ninja twisted to avoid him, but he slammed into its leg and knocked it down. It rolled and vaulted to the side, pitching some more shuriken at him. Shlim was caught in the arm by one; he dropped his gun from the pain.
"Enough games," Cat said flatly, pulling out a combat knife.
Cat lunged forward as the ninja hit the ground on both feet.
Can one truly imagine what occurs when a trained ninja assassin and a battle hardened serco Viper clash in battle, blade to blade?
Can one truly describe the resulting storm of blow, counterblow, dodge, and address? Can one imagine the bloody symphony of violence?
Well, I don't know about you.
But I can.
It looked like a bird made of boiling iron and murdered dreams flying through a raging waterfall, and breaking into all the pieces of the firmanent.
Cat whirled her blade in her hand slowly as the blood trickled off her, to the floor. The ninja lay in pieces on the floor. Some of them twitched.
Shlimazel picked himself up painfully, finally noticing the yelling and consternation from outside the hospital room.
"Ninjas travel in packs, because they're honorless scum," Cat mused as he dusted himself off. "So where are the rest of them?" Shlim muttered as he pulled the shuriken out of his arm. "Ninja often poison their blades," Cat observed.
"Oh, screw it," Shlim said. He reached over and picked up his duster, pulling it on. Then he grabbed his hat. Then he seated the pile of guns in their various places on his person.
"I'm sick of hospitals," Shlim said. "Here's a towel; better take clean up," he told Cat, tossing the towel to her. "Can't stay here."
They managed to get halfway to the docking bay before the ninja struck again.
There were people all around, and Cat almost missed the first ninja's approach. She muttered something, then said "We can't fight here!" Shlimazel looked at her and grinned tightly, his face cast into shadow by the brim of his hat.
Not neccesarily a reassuring sight.
They navigated to a side corridor that was less crowded as the ninjas closed in on them. Then Cat pulled out a very large energy weapon. "Attention, citizens!" Cat boomed, her augmentics amplifying the sound. "You are in danger, leave the area at once!"
The people looked at her nervously, until a ninja went through the first person blades slashing to reach Shlimazel. The people started out of horror, and then a chaotic scene erupted.
Shlimazel yanked out a pair of highly automatic weapons and threw himself sideways while blazing at a ninja running along the walls.
Cat fired her gyrock rifle with a bamwhumpSWOOSH. Cat caught the ninja dead center with a gyrock round with a lucky shot and blew it in half.
Shlimazel was having no luck killing his ninjas, as the pesky things kept dodging his bullets.
A ninja executed a spinning slice with its sword, forcing Shlim to step back. The ninja poised for a strike, and fed up with it all, Shlim punched it out. "Holy shit, I just punched out a ninja," Shlim said, disbelieving.
Shlimazel looked at his hand as though expecting to see a mystical inner glow, and nearly lost his head to another ninja blade.
Shlimazel ducked, and lashed out with a kick. The ninja grabbed his foot, and was about to slice it off before he ventilated the ninja. "Got you to hold still, you asshat," Shlim muttered as he held up his smoking automatic.
Cat dove on a ninja behind Shlim, as he levelled his gun and blazed away at a group of ninjas running down the corridor.
"This is not working," Cat said coldly as she battled the ninja. "We have to get out of here."
Shlim observed a sudden lull in the ninjas. "This is our chance," he said. "Run to the docking bay!" He pulled out a grenade and dropped it behind him as they pelted away from the scene of the fight.
The grenade went off, but Shlim doubted it had injured many ninjas. He just hoped it had distracted them.
The docking bay was a considerable distance away, Shlim thought as they turned a corner running at top speed. This would be tricky.
*
Read Cat's fifth chapter here!
*
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," Shlim muttered as he messed with the controls. Of course, Cat had to have a completely nonstandard control layout. It had taken him way too long to lay out a course and get out of the sector, given that Cat was bleeding out in the rear cabin.
Too many people had been injured or killed over this affair with Corvus. First Grover, then Shlim himself, and now Cat. It was time this came to an end. Shlimazel could count on one thing however; he was headed for the one place in the cosmos that would be safe.
**Viper HAC- the VCS Crotalus-VI**
"Pull up a seat, Shlimazel. It's been a while," Strat said. "Thank you, sir," Shlimazel said, and sat.
"How's Cat doing? She was pretty badly injured," Shlim said, concerned. "She's doing well. Most of the injury was actually damage to augmentics, the biologicals weren't badly injured," Strat said. "Understood, thanks," Shlim said, sitting back in his seat.
"So, Shlimazel," Strat said. "Tell me why you've been titled the Slayer of Corvus by the corvus media." "The WHAT?" Shlim said, disbelieving.
"Oh, haven't been keeping up with the news? Yes, they seem to love to hate you, Shlimazel." Strat said. "Exactly what did you do there?"
"Um," Shlim said. "Well, I may have shot some guards with my submachinegun..." "Just the facts, shlim," Strat said, so Shlimazel sighed and started talking.
"As it happens, shlim, I knew most of that already from our friendly local corvus rep," Strat said. "Eh?" Shlim said.
"I just wanted to hear the story from someone I actually trusted to see how much the facts tally up." Strat said, opening up a bottle of achohol and pouring. "You may be interested to know that the corvus rep told me much the same as you did," Strat went on, handing the glass to Shlim.
"Why would Corvus tell the straight story?" Shlim asked. "Don't they want me dead?" "Well, yes, but what I'm thinking is that certain members of corvus want you deader than others," Strat said.
"Anyway, we're going to talk to him now and see what he says," Strat said.
And so, a few calls through the inter deck communications later, the pair of VPRs and one overweight Corvus rep met in a small office.
"So, Mister Smith," Strat said to the corvus rep. "Exactly what is it you think to acheive here?"
"I want to clear up the matter of Corvus's pursuit of Mister Mazel," Smith said, nodding to Shlim.
"So, I take it you are of a rank to represent Corvus, Mr Graby," Strat said to the somewhat portly corvus representative.
Mr Graby adjusted his spectacles. "Corvus is not represented by any single individul, Mr Strat," Graby said flatly. "However, I can represent certain factions with a certain influence."
"These factions," he continued, "find little to gain in pursuing your man. It has proven an expensive, and ultimately fruitless engagement."
"Therefore, I'm here to seek a resolution to this entire affair," Graby said. "The group I represent is willing to work with you to bring this to a close."
"I see," Strat said. "And I take it you expect Viper to take your word for that, eh?"
"We expect," Mr Graby said sardonically, "that you, too, are tired of the fighting, the chaos, the bloodshed, all needless. We expect, sir, that you are willing to, as they say, do the right thing. Allow that things can, perhaps, go back to the status quo."
"That's not impossible," Strat said. "Especially considering that this ship will no longer be in this sector when you leave,"
"I suppose I can't fault you your suspicion," Mr Graby said. "Which would be why I brought this along with me."
He set his carefully scanned and checked briefcase on the table between them.
"Contained within," he continued, "is evidence of corvus meddling in certain UIT corporations for the past ten years. We give this to you as proof of our sincerity. After all, TPG would land on any corporation with corvus ties quite heavily, and damage us greatly."
"I see," Strat said. "I take it you expect this to be returned to you once our business is concluded?"
"I would hope so," Mr Graby said, with a bit of a smirk.
"So, exactly how can you help us resolve this situation with Corvus?" Strat asked.
"We intend to discredit certain major factions responsible for the recent...actions, within our organization," Mr Graby said. "This will lead to them being destabalized, and enable us to take the leading position away from them."
"With the understanding being that you will end this farce of hunting our pilot once you assume control," Strat said.
"Exactly so," Graby said. "We will end this business."
"Let's assume that we agree to this concept," Strat said. "What role will Viper play in this operation?"
"Well, there's a certain group of criminals operating in the Bractus area right now, being sponsored by the other corvus faction," Mr Graby said.
"You're talking about the Carvassa operation," Strat said. "We've been trying to put them down for decades."
"If we provide you with the intel, you will be able to," Mr Graby said. "And it will be a massive blow to our opponents."
*
Chapter 1
*
Shlimazel put the his feet up on the control panel of his Warthog 2 as he surveyed the sector. It was quiet like the grave all of a sudden. Shlimazel didn't like it; it was too convenient after those run ins with peytros. Shlimazel wondered what the man was plotting. There was a burst of static and the radio blared suddenly- "Shlimazel?" the man on the crackling radio asked. "Right," Shlimazel said. "Who's asking?" "It's me, Grover. I got some goons on my trail, dunno what they want." Shlimazel sighed. "I'm in the middle of Odia, Grover. What the hell do you think I can do about it?" "I'm in Odia too, dumbass," Grover said. Shlimazel thought he heard a certain fear in Grover's static distorted voice. "Look, just give me a hand, ok? Meet me in Odia J-9." The signal cut off. Shlimazel shook his head; there was no way he was going to go meet with the old guy. Not when there was trouble around.
But he found himself plotting a course for J-9 regardless.
Shlimazel's ship shuddered and shook as it exited from intersector jump. Grover was an informant, working for VPR undercover in the criminal community. A former criminal himself, Grover'd seen the error of his ways. Shlimazel knew the second he left his post, he was risking pirates moving into Sedina, but Grover had taken a lot of risks for VPR. Shlimazel owed the man an assist.
J-9 was so empty it made you lonely. Not a ship in sight. It didn't seem right. At about this point, Shlimazel wondered what he'd walked into, and just in case, he dialed on the power to his Neutron 2.
The docking was uneventful. Shlimazel's warthog looked like a flea on the massive floor of the docking bay, which was almost empty. Shlimazel quickly geared up in the constrains of his ship's small quarters, pulling on his trench coat and sliding an Arkham M-3 Executer into his shoulder holster. The plasma pistol had enough power to blow three men into ashes at full power. But just in case, he pulled out a Neutron Submachinegun and concealed it under his coat.
The docking crew was professional and efficient as they made arrangements for repair and refueling. "Remember to look at the dorsal heat sink, it's been causing me grief lately," Shlimazel advised over his shoulder as he headed into the Burg. So, walking away as he was, he didn't see the look the crewers cast at him. Nor did he notice the device they placed on his drives.
The Burg used to be a standard pattern habitation block, like most of the ones used in Odia stations. Then hard people like those that lived in Odia now moved in, and it went from a fairly bland, conventional horizontal living space, to a hard, ugly place full of despair and lost souls, where no sane person with a dime to spare would ever tread.
It was also one of the easiest places in Odia to hook into the criminal underground.
Shlimazel knew what would constitute a hiding place to Grover; a bar in the middle of the Burg, on no corner anyone ever visited. Shlimazel went up a stair and headed down a corridor on the first level. The heavy hitters lived up high in the horizontal landscape; down here was a wasteland of humanity. It didn't actually take that long for him to find Grover. Shlimazel spotted him slouched under flickering flourescent lights in a dead, bored bar.
Shlimazel sat down at the table next to Grover. A bored looking bargirl asked what Shlimazel wanted, and he ordered a whiskey. At the sound of Shlimazel's voice, Grover looked up surrepticiously. Shlimazel glanced at him, and Grover looked away quickly. Shlimazel sighed inside, then went and sat at Grover's table. "What's up?" Shlim asked him under the glare of the naked flourescent bulb. He muttered something indistinct. Shlimazel leaned closer. "What?" Grover shook his grizzled head slowly. His face was cast into shadow by the brim of his hat. "I said," he muttered, " 'It's a trap, you moron asshole.' "
Just then, Shlimazel heard feet coming up the corridor. "What the hell is this?" Shlimazel hissed. "I'm an old man, kid," Grover said flatly. "I wanted to live to get older, y'know?" "Right," Shlimazel said, pulling the Executor pistol from its shoulder holster and the Neutron Submachinegun from behind his back.
"I wouldn't mind that myself," Shlimazel said. He set the pistol on the table and lifted the Submachinegun. The barman looked at him and dove for cover.
Armor clad men burst through the doorway. "Hands in the air! Corvus-"
Shlimazel was not a bad shot. In fact, he was a pretty good shot. But he was carrying a neutron submachinegun, which fired 100 neutron bolts in thirty seconds. Each shot was roughly equivalent to a 50 calibre machinegun bullet. With all that, he didn't need to be a good shot.
He held down the trigger, and the walls were splashed with insides and chunks of remarkably ineffective armor plating. The gun hissed furiously as it overheated; Shlimazel glanced at it and swore. He'd have to dump it, it overheated too fast. He dropped it and grabbed the Executor off the table. Checking the settings, he saw it was on maximum power. The men were Corvus security. If there were some of them involved, all of them were involved. Shlimazel had wasted these, but more would be on their way.
He looked around quickly and saw a vent grating. He went quickly over and looked at it. It was small, and cramped. But he might, just might, be able to get out that way.
He turned to Grover. "Come on, old fart. This won't be fun, but-" Then Shlimazel noticed the puddle beneath the chair. "Damn," Shlimazel said. "When did they even get a chance to shoot?"
He could hear feet running outside. He holstered the gun, then wrenched the grate off of the wall and climbed in.
*The J9 Docking Bay*
The overhead grating rattled and shook. It was stuck. A blinding blast of plasma light solved that problem, and Shlimazel dropped onto the top of his ship. At least, he thought it was his ship, until he realized that he was in the wrong docking bay. Shlimazel facepalmed.
It was not a fun trip back to the main docking bay. But he was lucky, and he was able to blend with crowds as he went.
The station had been put on high alert. They were looking for him. It didn't make any sense-Covrus was dirty as shit rolled in mud, but they wouldn't hit a VPR unless they had a very good reason to do so.
Finding his ship was easy. There weren't even any guards in the bay waiting for him. And so, he was immediately suspicious. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to check the ship over, since there were people after him.
Unfortunately, he got aboard and took off.
And beneath the ship, a small red light flickered to life as a device activated and began a mysteriously menacing countdown...
Shlimazel grimaced as he saw the Corvus strike force taking off in pursuit. "Damnit, what is this mess?" he said angrily as he piled on the turbo power. He outraced and outperformed the slower ships, and made a narrow escape.
But what would the future hold for him?
*
Chapter 2
*
Shlimazel exited the wormhole at O6 Sedina with the recent events running through his head. It was so bizarre that Corvus would set an elaborate trap like it had done so that it could catch a VPR. Corvus wasn't as blunt as certain pirate agencies; it had been around too long to be unsubtle. They wouldn't have layed such a trap without an extreme provocation, and Shlimazel had done nothing to upset them.
Shlimazel was just about to lay in a course for Sedina L-2 when he heard a sudden clunk in his ship. Ships do not clunk. "What is that noise?" Shlimazel wondered, suddenly concerned. If something was making noise then something was out of the ordinary.
Moving quickly he checked his controls. Everything seemed ordinary.. Then he took a look at his heat sinks and saw that one was stuck. Something was obstructing the heatsink's vents.
That would account for the noise, but what would be responsible for it? Shlimazel looked at it again, and noticed a powerdrain from a point on the hull. Something was tapping into the ship's power grid. And from the energy patterns...
"Shit!" Shlimazel muttered. "That's a bomb!"
There was only one thing to do; Shlimazel activated the Lectertronica MK2 Escape Module built into his cockpit. He noticed a sudden energy spike from the hull point, and realized he had only seconds to escape. Ignoring the standard safety precautions, he made sure the pod was secure and slammed the eject button.
The Warthog 2 shrunk into the distance as he blasted out of the sector. Shlimazel checked the distance indicator... 2000... 2300...
A new sun flared as his ship went up. The energy readings were massive. "Damn," Shlimazel mused. "Sure hope my insurance covers that..."
Shlimazel watched the distance indicator hit 3000 klicks, slapped the activation toggle and let the cosmos roll by.
***
Shlimazel sat in L2, making plans to resolve his situation.
Shlimazel had replaced his ship with only a bit of difficulty. He'd bought one with special security systems on it in case of sabotage. He was in the bar, crafting an elaborate plan to discover the truth behind the Corvus plot to eliminate him, when the news came on the holo.
"Corvus security forces are out looking for VPR pilot Shlimazel, who is wanted on suspicion of murdering a Corvus official," the smiling newswoman announced. Shlimazel headdesked. All that planning and he finds out the truth from the NEWS?
Shlimazel was certainly not guilty of murdering anyone, especially not a corvus official. He only killed bad people doing bad things, not corvus officals who..ok, were doing bad things, but were much too dangerous for him to attack, both in terms of danger in combat and danger to VPR's reputation.
The next logical step was to find out why Corvus thought Shlimazel had killed a corvus official. It was clear that Shlimazel had been framed, but the question was who had done the framing? And WHY?
Shlimazel decided the best way to go about it would be to investigate the scene of the crime. With luck, he'd be able to find a clue that would lead him to his framers. Since the news hadn't said where the man was killed, Shlim would have to do a bit of investigation to figure out where to look.
And so, Shlimazel began the arduous task of assembling an alternate persona, with which to infiltrate the Corvus computer systems and learn where the man was killed.
***
About three days of hard work later, the Revenant of a Serco pilot named Zulu Bob set down at Sedina D14.
Zulu Bob was stopped at the dock checkpoint by Corvus security. They checked his ID carefully while levelling guns on him. He checked out.
Covus security kept automated surveilance on him for an hour as a normal precaution. Then they moved on to more interesting things.
About four hours after the individual docked, Corvus security discovered him leaving a restricted area. The individual had almost made his escape before they caught him.
The Corvus security took him in on suspicion of industrial espionage charges. He was sat in the chrome walled interrogation cell and made to wait. About an hour passed before he was finally interviewed by security. This delay was used to make the man nervous.
In theory at least.
***
Shlimazel squinted at the lights. He still hadn't adjusted to them yet. He was prepared for his arrogant serco defiance of corvus security, though.
The corvus security finally entered the room. Shlimazel jumped up; "WHY are you holding me, you pathetic fools?!" he demanded. "Honorless sons of drakhs!" Shlimazel snarled. "I'm holding a valuable cargo aboard my ship, and I cannot afford delay by prigs like yourself!"
"Yeah, well, buddy-I could give a crap." the man said flatly. "We know all about what you're doing here."
Shlimazel braced himself. Apparently, they'd figured out what was what. He prepared his counters-
"We don't take kindly to ONE people busting in here and screwing around with us," the copper said menacingly.
Shlimazel stared.
"What, did you think we're stupid? It took us five seconds to figure out what you were up to, you toaster," the copper said, smug and secure in his overwhelming cunning.
Shlimazel facepalmed.
With a certain despair for humanity, he said "Ok, you weakling, you've figured me out."
"I think the HAC's should be arriving to extract me any second now," he continued. "I suggest you let me go."
The corvus security men looked at each other. Then they left the room very quickly.
***
About ten minutes later, the Serco pilot known as Zulu Bob left D14 with 17tb's of stolen corvus information on a datacard.
***
After returning to L2 and studying the intel, Shlimazel put his feet up on his desk and considered the possibilities. The man had been killed at the odia station at C2 odia. That was his next stop; clearly he'd have to look for clues there.
Shlimazel suspected the Zulu Bob alt had outlived its usefulness however.
Perhaps he would need to call in an old favor, from someone who was on the inside of Corvus's operation...
An old friend, named...
MISTER CHAOS.
*
Chapter 3
*
Mr Chaos wasn't having a good day. The infiltration of Corvus security was an arduous task at best, but today he had the headaches of this dumb business with VPR to worry about. He was looking forward to sitting down in his quarters and letting his worries go away.
Then he noticed a message from Shlimazel and sighed. No rest for the weary, he thought, and answered it.
***
"So what was so important that I had to leave my post and hoof it into Sedina for a face to face meeting?" Chaos demanded, his body concealed in a trenchcoat. "I'm sure you were just devastated to leave that post, Chaos," Shlim said calmly, stirring his coffee.
"Yeah, well..." Chaos grunted. Chaos pulled out a cigarette and lit up. "So what's up?"
"You know about Corvus trying to off me I assume," Shlim said. "I need to get into Odia C2 and see if I can figure out who set me up,"
"Pfft, C2 is hardly corvus territory," Chaos snorted. "What's up with you Shlim?"
"Yeah, but the official was murdered there, and Corvus has got the station under lockdown," Shlimazel said. "I need your help to get in."
"Can't you just ask your pal Zulu Bob to help you out?" Chaos asked with a certain smugness to his voice.
"Very funny," Shlim said. "I suppose you saw right through that didn't you?"
"Given your terrible characterization....." Chaos said. He deepened his voice; "I AM A MIGHTY SERCO YOU PATHETIC WORM, FEAR MY POWER!"
Shlimazel shook his head. "Fine, I'm a terrible actor," Shlim said.
Chaos nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Anyway, why do you think I'll help you? It might compromise my position, which would be dangerous for ONE."
"We're pals, Chaos. There shouldn't need to be any other reason for you to help me when I'm in mortal danger," Shlimazel said, taking a swig of his coffee.
"Oh geez," Chaos said. "Laying it on a little thick aren't you?" Chaos shook his head, then said "We'll take the hovercraft in. Wear something..." Chaos looked at Shlim's VPR uniform. "Less distinctive."
*The C2 Landing Bay*
"How do I look?" Shlimazel asked, adjusting his hat and pulling up the collar on his trenchcoat."
"Ehh, fine by me," Chaos said, lighting up another cigarette. "Just stick close."
"Those are gonna kill you someday y'know," Shlim said, adjusting his Executor plasma pistol in its shoulder holster.
"Hah, I doubt it. Nothing's killed me yet," Chaos said. "Besides, I'm a serco. I got augmentic lungs."
Chaos looked ahead. "Checkpoint coming up," he observed. "Stick with me because these guards are probably twitchy, and I don't want your corpse on my conscious."
The guards did look twitchy. Getting sworn at all day by resentful Ineubis citizens is not conducive to a stable mental attitude. The guards levelled Neutron Submachineguns at our heros as they approached the guard position;
"Show your ID and registration!" the lead guard snarled through his helmet speaker. Mr. Chaos pulled out his Corvus Security ID card and flashed it at the guards without slowing down.
The Corvus security force ID was very distinctive, and given the trademark ruthlessness of Corvus internal security, the guards didn't dare to stop Chaos. He simply bulled through them with Shlimazel in tow.
It didn't take them long to get to the place where the man Shlim was supposed to have killed was murdered. Chaos sorted the security people out left and right along the route, barking orders and giving directions right up until they entered the room.
"-And I want it done by next thursday!" Chaos yelled into the corridor just as the door into the room closed.
"Alright," Chaos said as Shlimazel surveyed the room. The Corvus forensics experts had gone over it closely, but he wanted to see it for himself. "So what exactly is it you intend to look for?" Chaos asked as he lit up a cigarette.
"Won't know until I see it," Shlimazel said, pulling a table out of the way carefully to look at a dent in the wall.
"I'll be outside," Chaos said. He closed the door behind him.
Shlimazel went and looked over the place the body was found.
A massive black scar on the bulkhead showed that the weapon was a plasma weapon. Plasma sidearms were not commonly owned; Shlimazel had a hard time getting ahold of the ones he used.
Shlimazel decided to go and look at the forensics writeups on the crimescene. He liked to avoid that because it was boring, but...
In this case he'd just have to suffer with it. There wasn't enough here in the way of clues. Collecting Chaos from the corridor, the two of them made their way to the makeshift security HQ of the Corvus forces; a docked Atlas with security and surveillance equipment bolted on, and a perimeter of heavily armed security troops around it.
The sergeant in charge of the Corvus troops turned as they approached. The man was a six foot tall, three foot wide Serco ex-soldier.
His eyes were glowing red augmentic implants, and he had armored plates on his head. "What in blazes are you sons of drakhs doing in my security zone?!" he snarled, spittle flying from his fang implanted jaws.
Mr. Chaos shook his head slowly as he approached.
"Mister," Mr. Chaos said, cold as a freon iceberg, "Do you know what I am?"
"Yeah, pal-" the hulking flesh-prom retorted, "You're in my effing security zone, and I don't appreciate it."
"I hope you don't think you can threaten me," Mr. Chaos told the hulking Corvus security sergeant. "Because if you do, well...." Mr. Chaos produced his Corvus ID card. "This should clarify just how dangerous that would be,"
The massive serco took the ID card and examined it. His extensively rebuilt features paled. "Er, well," the man said, "Maybe we could work something out..."
Moments later Mr. Chaos and Shlimazel were inside the makeshift Corvus HQ, examining records at their leisure. "You know, that must be some authorization you have, Chaos," Shlim observed as he flipped through the files on the crime scene.
"You have no idea," Chaos said smugly as he whipped out his seventh cigarette of the hour and lit up.
"Here we go," shlimazel said, pulling out some of the files and examining them. "These are the original forensics reports that Ineubis did, before Corvus took over the scene."
Shlimazel examined them carefully. Apparently, the charred remains of the dead man were scattered all over the room. This fit in with the scar found in the bulkhead, which could only have been caused by a plasma sidearm.
There wasn't enough in these documents to give him an idea who had framed Shlim for the murder. Shlim set them aside. He pulled out a list of reports on the official's activities and looked at it carefully.
Apparently the official was engaged in some sort of underhanded business arrangements with an obscure organization. These arrangments were heavily classified, but apparently officially sanctioned. Shlim wondered if the official had pissed someone off he shouldn't have..
He frowned. Something wasn't right with these numbers. Shlim decided to look at the officials personal files.
Finding the official's account information and comparing it to the report the official sent in, he noted that there was a lot of money that was going into the official's financial accounts which couldn't be accounted for in his reports to his superiors.
Shlimazel put everything down and thought carefully. It seemed that the official had been skimming profit off of the top of this secret arrangement for himself.
He even went so far as to lie on his official reports to Corvus. Shlimazel could see two things that could have happened; Either he had pissed off someone in the criminal community...
Or corvus found out about this unpleasant little secret.
Either way, whoever had done it would have good reason to want to frame someone for having performed the murder. And VPR, being criminal killing vigilantes, were a logical target.
The only problem Shlim saw was that Corvus blamed Shlim, specifically, and had layed a trap to get shlim himself, not VPR in general. There wasn't enough evidence to honestly be able to accuse Shlimazel in particular of having performed the murder. Simply having been killed with a weapon that a VPR was known to carry wasn't exactly the hardest evidence possible.
Shlimazel was going to take a closer look at some of the files, when he heard loud footsteps approaching the room.
A group of heavily armored Corvus troops barged into the room, lead by a tall, angry looking man in a black leather trenchcoat. The man looked like he was going to explode with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?!" he bellowed.
"He's with me," Mr Chaos said in a rather blase fashion, smoking his cig casually.
"And I'd like to know what you're doing here, too! This is a classified area!" the corvus man said angrily.
"Maybe this will clear things up," Chaos said, handing the man his Corvus ID.
"Ah, I see, a measely third class clearance and you think you own the station?" the man sneered. "Well, look at this!" He handed Chaos his own ID card.
Chaos looked at it. He stared. The cigarette fell out of his mouth, ignored. "Aww, shit..." he muttered.
"AS you can see, I have class SEVEN corvus clearance!" the man said haughtily. "Now, you two are coming with us!"
"I'm afraid that's not going to happen," Mr Chaos said calmly.
"OH?" the man said angstily. "And WHY is that?"
"Because," Chaos said. "My partner is behind you with a plasma pistol."
He turned. And indeed, Shlim had his plasma pistol out. The Arkham Executor's gun barrel seemed like a jackhammer tube from where they stood.
Shlimazel had never believed in snappy banter. He preferred to simply obliterate his enemies with a well placed blast. And so, he did.
"Let's get out of here, NOW," Chaos said.
"Fine by me," Shlim said, stepping over the charred piles of ash and grabbing up some files. He stuffed them away, and they fled the room.
"Why did I agree to this?" Chaos muttered, pulling out his Gauss rifle. "I knew this was going to be trouble."
"Because you like to kick ass?" Shlim suggested, checking the action on his pistol.
"Ah, good point," Chaos said sanguinely, slapping a heavy duty powercell into place on his rifle.
***
Corvus's makeshift security HQ on the Ineubis base was a docked Atlas outfitted with security and surveillance gear.
It had been wired into the station's security net and power grid, and was heavily secured by Corvus troops.
There were automated neutron machineguns surrounding the ship and serco gaunt handlers on patrol.
Corvus didn't stand a chance.
***
Mr Chaos blew away the security guards as they tried to sneak up behind them. "So where were we going again?" he demanded.
"Um," Shlimazel said as he frantically layed down suppressive fire. "Well, they have this neatly sewn up, don't they?" Shlim said as a gang of corvus troops advanced on their position. Mr Chaos blew their sergeant away, and the rest scattered.
"I know," Shlim said with a certain maniacal gleam in his eye. "Let's take over the ship's bridge!"
"That's actually a great idea, " Chaos said, checking his rifle. "Ok, I'll hold them off. Get to it!"
Shlimazel dodged a stream of gunfire as he bounded down the corridor. The Corvus troops were getting more accurate, or so it seemed...
Shlimazel could still hear the echoing boom of Mr Chaos's gauss rifle ringing through the corridor as Chaos blasted corvus troops. He was almost to the bridge when he heard a faint whistling sound...
Shlimazel glanced around. He couldn't see anything, but he had the strangest feeling... He hefted his plasma pistol.
Suddenly a whirling fury of claws and teeth fell on him from somewhere before he could aim his gun. Steel claws tore into his arms and chest carving red valleys of blood and gore. He screamed in pain and fury; then he jammed the pistol into the whirling mass and pulled the trigger.
Shlimazel staggered up. The remains plastered across the ceilling defied identification, but it looked like a serco creature...
Shlim staggered to the bridge of the atlas. It had been deserted by the bridge crew long since.
Shlimazel took the conn and powered up the engines. Then he began to lift off from the deck. The atlas then proceeded to power towards the docking bay doors.
What followed doubtless distressed the ineubis station officials. Indeed, they may well have cried at the thought of repairing the bay doors.
Which were smashed open by the prow of the hijacked trading vessel.
Shlimazel was feeling light headed. He looked at himself; he was soaked with blood. He gasped a short invective, then fell unconscious.
Chaos staggered into the room; "Ok, I just closed the damn doors, becuase-" Chaos saw shlim. "Oh, jesus!"
*
Read Mr. Chaos's Bonus Chapter here!
*
Read Cat's first chapter here!
*
Read Cat's second chapter here!
*
Chapter 4
*
Shlimazel woke up. If he hadn't felt like hell, he would have said he was dead. Shlimazel looked around. Antiseptically clean, shiny, white. A hospital. "Well, I guess we made it," he muttered.
Shlimazel thought about getting up, then he started thinking about how he felt and realized what an appalingly bad idea that was.
The door opened, and Mr Chaos walked in. From behind Chaos, Shlim could hear someone yell "And NO SMOKING in the operating room!"
"Oh, nuts," Mr Chaos muttered irratably. "So," he said to Shlim, "You're actually alive still?" He closed the door. "Apparently," Shlim said wearily. "Where the hell are we?" "Dau, L10," Chaos said. Reflexively he reached for his cigarettes, then swore under his breath. "I hate hospitals and their smoking rules," Chaos muttered.
"So what happened with C2?" Shlim asked. "Ah, we ran a lot until we got away," Chaos said.
"So, I guess we didn't find much in the way of evidence, huh?" Chaos mused. "Just whatever this guy was up to, and that doesn't explain who framed you." "Yeah, we didn't get a lot out of it, sadly." Shlim said. "And I guess that wrecks your infiltration into Corvus."
"Yes, it did, Shlim. And now I can kiss my promotion goodbye," Chaos groused. "Thanks a lot."
Shlimazel had a terrible headache. He did not need Chaos's grousing. Grousing was a non essential part of the program.
"Chaos, you agreed to help me, I didn't twist your arm," Shlim said with great patience. "Anyway, I need to figure out what to do next."
"Valk helped us get out of C2 alive, yeah," Chaos said. "He's around here somewhere, I don't know."
"I'd better get up and get moving," shlim said, "I got a lot to take care of." He tried to get up, then gasped with pain.
"Yer still hurtin', boy," Chaos observed. "Better rest up. Doc said you'd be out of it for about three days."
Shlimazel exploded. "Three DAYS?" Shlim yelled hoarsely. "Damnit, I got Corvus roaring for my blood, and I need to get the %%%% out of this joint and solve this %%%%up!"
*
Read Cat's third chapter here!
*
Read Cat's fourth chapter here!
*
Chapter 5
*
"And that's how I found myself in this goddamn space-cast-suit-thing," Shlim said, finishing up his explanation of recent events to Cat. "Doctor says I can't leave this room for two more days," he continued, "and I'm not too happy with it. Laid up is exactly what I don't want to be when I'm being hunted by Corvus."
"So, in summary, you know there's a conspiracy to eliminate you, but you have no idea why people are plotting it. You think Corvus is pinning that murder on you specifically to move suspicion from elsewhere, but since they could easily have pinned it on the whole of VPR, you're confused, as it makes no sense," Cat said.
"Well, you're right on one thing; it makes absolutely no sense," Cat said flatly. "None of that story does."
Shlimazel inclined his head towards his body cast. "Apparently someone thought that it did," he said hoarsely. "They thought it made enough sense to lay a trap to get me especially, then the result was that I was torn a new one. So, what's that mean?"
Cat shook her head, and lapsed into silence, thinking. Shlimazel didn't speak either, taking the opportunity to try to relax his damaged body.
"Well, whatever's going on, it's Viper business now," Cat finally said. "And we will bring this to a resolution together."
"If I ever get out of this ******* bodycast, that is," Shlim muttered.
Cat found somewhere to stay on the station while Shlimazel was recovering, taking the opportunity to examine the evidence he had found. Shlimazel recovered steadily over time as the doctors worked on him. The wounds were gruesome, but the UIT doctors were experienced and the injuries healed gradually.
Finally, Shlim was able to get out of bed. The doctor stood there and lectured in Shlimazel's direction, but Shlim ignored the man.
Shlimazel felt weak. He spent a few hours readying himself to return to duty; exercising (carefully), eating, etcetera. At least he didn't need to shave; the doctors had removed most of Shlim's bodyhair in the course of repairing his horrific injuries.
As he was finishing getting dressed, Cat walked in the room. Shlimazel jumped. "Damnit, could you at least KNOCK?" he demanded.
She looked at him distainfully, then slapped a package down in front of him. "I've found a lead you might be interested in," she said. "Take a look."
Shlimazel picked up the package and opened it. He scanned the documents inside quickly, then stopped as a name caught his eye and read back through more slowly.
"This isn't possible," Shlim said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I killed her a month ago, how-?"
We may never know how that sentence ended, as the door exploded inward and a humanoid dynamo of destruction erupted into the room.
"Ninja!" Cat snarled, barely having the time to meet the charge of the whirling figure before it was upon her. "Oh, shiiiit," Shlim said as the figure flipped over Cat and whipped a volley of xith shuriken at him.
Shlimazel hit the floor with his weapon out and fired the Arkham Executor at the ninja assassin. The plasma bolt ripped the air and blew a hole in the bulkhead.
Cat performed a flying spin kick, eyes narrowed in concentration. The ninja launched itself into the air, sank its fingers into a solid duranium bulkhead, and whipped around to kick her in the jaw.
She ignored it and grabbed the ninja's ankle in a vicelike grip as they tumbled to the ground.
Rolling and twisting, she ended up on top and tried to break its leg, but it lashed out and somehow escaped her hold. The ninja whipped out a short, xith edged blade, and ran down the wall to attack Shlimazel.
Shlimazel stood his ground. He wasn't a close combat expert by the longest of shots, but he was highly experienced in unconventional warfare.
He dove at the ninja's ankles, as the ninja ran along the wall at him.
The ninja twisted to avoid him, but he slammed into its leg and knocked it down. It rolled and vaulted to the side, pitching some more shuriken at him. Shlim was caught in the arm by one; he dropped his gun from the pain.
"Enough games," Cat said flatly, pulling out a combat knife.
Cat lunged forward as the ninja hit the ground on both feet.
Can one truly imagine what occurs when a trained ninja assassin and a battle hardened serco Viper clash in battle, blade to blade?
Can one truly describe the resulting storm of blow, counterblow, dodge, and address? Can one imagine the bloody symphony of violence?
Well, I don't know about you.
But I can.
It looked like a bird made of boiling iron and murdered dreams flying through a raging waterfall, and breaking into all the pieces of the firmanent.
Cat whirled her blade in her hand slowly as the blood trickled off her, to the floor. The ninja lay in pieces on the floor. Some of them twitched.
Shlimazel picked himself up painfully, finally noticing the yelling and consternation from outside the hospital room.
"Ninjas travel in packs, because they're honorless scum," Cat mused as he dusted himself off. "So where are the rest of them?" Shlim muttered as he pulled the shuriken out of his arm. "Ninja often poison their blades," Cat observed.
"Oh, screw it," Shlim said. He reached over and picked up his duster, pulling it on. Then he grabbed his hat. Then he seated the pile of guns in their various places on his person.
"I'm sick of hospitals," Shlim said. "Here's a towel; better take clean up," he told Cat, tossing the towel to her. "Can't stay here."
They managed to get halfway to the docking bay before the ninja struck again.
There were people all around, and Cat almost missed the first ninja's approach. She muttered something, then said "We can't fight here!" Shlimazel looked at her and grinned tightly, his face cast into shadow by the brim of his hat.
Not neccesarily a reassuring sight.
They navigated to a side corridor that was less crowded as the ninjas closed in on them. Then Cat pulled out a very large energy weapon. "Attention, citizens!" Cat boomed, her augmentics amplifying the sound. "You are in danger, leave the area at once!"
The people looked at her nervously, until a ninja went through the first person blades slashing to reach Shlimazel. The people started out of horror, and then a chaotic scene erupted.
Shlimazel yanked out a pair of highly automatic weapons and threw himself sideways while blazing at a ninja running along the walls.
Cat fired her gyrock rifle with a bamwhumpSWOOSH. Cat caught the ninja dead center with a gyrock round with a lucky shot and blew it in half.
Shlimazel was having no luck killing his ninjas, as the pesky things kept dodging his bullets.
A ninja executed a spinning slice with its sword, forcing Shlim to step back. The ninja poised for a strike, and fed up with it all, Shlim punched it out. "Holy shit, I just punched out a ninja," Shlim said, disbelieving.
Shlimazel looked at his hand as though expecting to see a mystical inner glow, and nearly lost his head to another ninja blade.
Shlimazel ducked, and lashed out with a kick. The ninja grabbed his foot, and was about to slice it off before he ventilated the ninja. "Got you to hold still, you asshat," Shlim muttered as he held up his smoking automatic.
Cat dove on a ninja behind Shlim, as he levelled his gun and blazed away at a group of ninjas running down the corridor.
"This is not working," Cat said coldly as she battled the ninja. "We have to get out of here."
Shlim observed a sudden lull in the ninjas. "This is our chance," he said. "Run to the docking bay!" He pulled out a grenade and dropped it behind him as they pelted away from the scene of the fight.
The grenade went off, but Shlim doubted it had injured many ninjas. He just hoped it had distracted them.
The docking bay was a considerable distance away, Shlim thought as they turned a corner running at top speed. This would be tricky.
*
Read Cat's fifth chapter here!
*
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," Shlim muttered as he messed with the controls. Of course, Cat had to have a completely nonstandard control layout. It had taken him way too long to lay out a course and get out of the sector, given that Cat was bleeding out in the rear cabin.
Too many people had been injured or killed over this affair with Corvus. First Grover, then Shlim himself, and now Cat. It was time this came to an end. Shlimazel could count on one thing however; he was headed for the one place in the cosmos that would be safe.
**Viper HAC- the VCS Crotalus-VI**
"Pull up a seat, Shlimazel. It's been a while," Strat said. "Thank you, sir," Shlimazel said, and sat.
"How's Cat doing? She was pretty badly injured," Shlim said, concerned. "She's doing well. Most of the injury was actually damage to augmentics, the biologicals weren't badly injured," Strat said. "Understood, thanks," Shlim said, sitting back in his seat.
"So, Shlimazel," Strat said. "Tell me why you've been titled the Slayer of Corvus by the corvus media." "The WHAT?" Shlim said, disbelieving.
"Oh, haven't been keeping up with the news? Yes, they seem to love to hate you, Shlimazel." Strat said. "Exactly what did you do there?"
"Um," Shlim said. "Well, I may have shot some guards with my submachinegun..." "Just the facts, shlim," Strat said, so Shlimazel sighed and started talking.
"As it happens, shlim, I knew most of that already from our friendly local corvus rep," Strat said. "Eh?" Shlim said.
"I just wanted to hear the story from someone I actually trusted to see how much the facts tally up." Strat said, opening up a bottle of achohol and pouring. "You may be interested to know that the corvus rep told me much the same as you did," Strat went on, handing the glass to Shlim.
"Why would Corvus tell the straight story?" Shlim asked. "Don't they want me dead?" "Well, yes, but what I'm thinking is that certain members of corvus want you deader than others," Strat said.
"Anyway, we're going to talk to him now and see what he says," Strat said.
And so, a few calls through the inter deck communications later, the pair of VPRs and one overweight Corvus rep met in a small office.
"So, Mister Smith," Strat said to the corvus rep. "Exactly what is it you think to acheive here?"
"I want to clear up the matter of Corvus's pursuit of Mister Mazel," Smith said, nodding to Shlim.
"So, I take it you are of a rank to represent Corvus, Mr Graby," Strat said to the somewhat portly corvus representative.
Mr Graby adjusted his spectacles. "Corvus is not represented by any single individul, Mr Strat," Graby said flatly. "However, I can represent certain factions with a certain influence."
"These factions," he continued, "find little to gain in pursuing your man. It has proven an expensive, and ultimately fruitless engagement."
"Therefore, I'm here to seek a resolution to this entire affair," Graby said. "The group I represent is willing to work with you to bring this to a close."
"I see," Strat said. "And I take it you expect Viper to take your word for that, eh?"
"We expect," Mr Graby said sardonically, "that you, too, are tired of the fighting, the chaos, the bloodshed, all needless. We expect, sir, that you are willing to, as they say, do the right thing. Allow that things can, perhaps, go back to the status quo."
"That's not impossible," Strat said. "Especially considering that this ship will no longer be in this sector when you leave,"
"I suppose I can't fault you your suspicion," Mr Graby said. "Which would be why I brought this along with me."
He set his carefully scanned and checked briefcase on the table between them.
"Contained within," he continued, "is evidence of corvus meddling in certain UIT corporations for the past ten years. We give this to you as proof of our sincerity. After all, TPG would land on any corporation with corvus ties quite heavily, and damage us greatly."
"I see," Strat said. "I take it you expect this to be returned to you once our business is concluded?"
"I would hope so," Mr Graby said, with a bit of a smirk.
"So, exactly how can you help us resolve this situation with Corvus?" Strat asked.
"We intend to discredit certain major factions responsible for the recent...actions, within our organization," Mr Graby said. "This will lead to them being destabalized, and enable us to take the leading position away from them."
"With the understanding being that you will end this farce of hunting our pilot once you assume control," Strat said.
"Exactly so," Graby said. "We will end this business."
"Let's assume that we agree to this concept," Strat said. "What role will Viper play in this operation?"
"Well, there's a certain group of criminals operating in the Bractus area right now, being sponsored by the other corvus faction," Mr Graby said.
"You're talking about the Carvassa operation," Strat said. "We've been trying to put them down for decades."
"If we provide you with the intel, you will be able to," Mr Graby said. "And it will be a massive blow to our opponents."
*claps
Brava, can't wait to read more :)
Brava, can't wait to read more :)
Thank you! And it turns out I won't be able to tell it tonight, but you can probably expect me online tomorrow to tell the tale.
I actually did get online and tell some story. It's not a lot, but it was well written the first time so I didn't really have to revise it.
I'll be online again today for sure to tell some more of this tale of mystery and menace!
I'll be online again today for sure to tell some more of this tale of mystery and menace!
Excellent read so far. :)
:)
Love it sofar.
Love it sofar.
woot chaos
This part was so funny it made me laugh!
This part was so funny it made me laugh!
Posted up what little I wrote yesterday. Sorry about my abrupt exit!
More story woot!
The following takes place between the events of chapter 3 and chapter 4.
Events take place in space-time.
*Bonus Chapter*
Mr. Chaos cursed himself for letting Shlim go alone. He moved his unconscious body to the side, and got into the drivers seat. The Ineubis and Corvus guards would be too preoccupied with the mess left inside, so Chaos hurriedly drove that atlas out of c2.
As the atlas sped towards the b13 Wormhole, something came out, and a female voice on the comm said "Yarr, prepare to be boarded!" Mr. Chaos didn't recognise the voice, but could easily tell it was a pirate, and that warthog would definitely be able to chase down the small atlas. Chaos braked the engines, and set off the appropriate signals, and sat back.
Then a small plan came into his mind, and he smiled.
As the piratess hog attached docking clamps on the topside of the atlas, Mr. Chaos dodged behind one of the few support structures Corvus had built in the atlas, mostly to help hide their soldiers should their be a firefight. Too bad it didn't help them when the enemy was INSIDE the atlas, but now it could be of some use. When the docking doors opened, the piratess jumped in, but only saw the bloody body of Shlim. When she approached the control panel, she heard a noise behind her, and when she turned to look, she got a facefull of Guass Rifle behind.
****
When the Piratess woke up, she found the the body and her assailant gone, a pool of blood leading to where her ship WOULD'VE been, had they not taken it. As she got up, she found a note on the desk of the control panel.
"Dear Madam,
Sorry, I had to take your ship. I am certain you will find this one to be most adequate. I left it intact, so feel free to get out of here before Corvus does.
Love,
Mr. Chaos"
****
As the now stolen hog2 raced through Sedina o6, another automated hail went through to Chaos, "Prepare to be destroyed, Pirate!" 'Aww damm' thought Chaos, but then he realised who was talking over the comm. "Valkyr, this is Mr. Chaos, shlim is down, we need a bit of cover through to dau!"
**** Meanwhile ****
Even as all this happened around him, Shlim dreamed. Most were lucid, odd, tangled messes of memories, but one moment in particular seemed to stay vivid in his mind. He floated, over a sun, much like the one in Itan, with a verdant blue backdrop. He watched things, shadow-like things, swim on the sun, through the fires of the suns fusion. The creatures seemed to be in pain as they swam the molten mass.
**** Azek L1 ****
Mr. Chaos flew, by himself, through the Dau defense turrets. He had taken time during the run through Azek to patch Shlim up a bit, but he couldn't do much. He'd spent most of his time in the Field Medicine 101 class staring at his girl, and he somehow figured this would all come back to bite him in the ass.
****Dau L10****
The docking bays of L10 were peaceful, quite, and unawares, that a hog2 was flying dangerously fast towards the docking clamps closest to the Hospital. The hog ran through the entrance, leaving a huge mark on the door as it crashed into it.
To Be Continued......
but not by me :)
Events take place in space-time.
*Bonus Chapter*
Mr. Chaos cursed himself for letting Shlim go alone. He moved his unconscious body to the side, and got into the drivers seat. The Ineubis and Corvus guards would be too preoccupied with the mess left inside, so Chaos hurriedly drove that atlas out of c2.
As the atlas sped towards the b13 Wormhole, something came out, and a female voice on the comm said "Yarr, prepare to be boarded!" Mr. Chaos didn't recognise the voice, but could easily tell it was a pirate, and that warthog would definitely be able to chase down the small atlas. Chaos braked the engines, and set off the appropriate signals, and sat back.
Then a small plan came into his mind, and he smiled.
As the piratess hog attached docking clamps on the topside of the atlas, Mr. Chaos dodged behind one of the few support structures Corvus had built in the atlas, mostly to help hide their soldiers should their be a firefight. Too bad it didn't help them when the enemy was INSIDE the atlas, but now it could be of some use. When the docking doors opened, the piratess jumped in, but only saw the bloody body of Shlim. When she approached the control panel, she heard a noise behind her, and when she turned to look, she got a facefull of Guass Rifle behind.
****
When the Piratess woke up, she found the the body and her assailant gone, a pool of blood leading to where her ship WOULD'VE been, had they not taken it. As she got up, she found a note on the desk of the control panel.
"Dear Madam,
Sorry, I had to take your ship. I am certain you will find this one to be most adequate. I left it intact, so feel free to get out of here before Corvus does.
Love,
Mr. Chaos"
****
As the now stolen hog2 raced through Sedina o6, another automated hail went through to Chaos, "Prepare to be destroyed, Pirate!" 'Aww damm' thought Chaos, but then he realised who was talking over the comm. "Valkyr, this is Mr. Chaos, shlim is down, we need a bit of cover through to dau!"
**** Meanwhile ****
Even as all this happened around him, Shlim dreamed. Most were lucid, odd, tangled messes of memories, but one moment in particular seemed to stay vivid in his mind. He floated, over a sun, much like the one in Itan, with a verdant blue backdrop. He watched things, shadow-like things, swim on the sun, through the fires of the suns fusion. The creatures seemed to be in pain as they swam the molten mass.
**** Azek L1 ****
Mr. Chaos flew, by himself, through the Dau defense turrets. He had taken time during the run through Azek to patch Shlim up a bit, but he couldn't do much. He'd spent most of his time in the Field Medicine 101 class staring at his girl, and he somehow figured this would all come back to bite him in the ass.
****Dau L10****
The docking bays of L10 were peaceful, quite, and unawares, that a hog2 was flying dangerously fast towards the docking clamps closest to the Hospital. The hog ran through the entrance, leaving a huge mark on the door as it crashed into it.
To Be Continued......
but not by me :)
woot chaos! nice work.
The slow concentrated rotary movement of synth-cotton on black leather served to polish the boot to a mirror shine. Not that it really needed polishing, the boot was almost new and had been polished yesterday as well but it served a different purpose in reality; it passed time. And passing time was just about all there was to do between the combat patrols. Or at least that was how Cat felt. She applied a bit more polish to the boot and continued the easy controlled movements. Her brainpal chimed softly and she opened the incoming connection without taking the slightest amount of concentration away from the boot. It was Strat.
"Cat, report for patrol in the duty ops room asap."
Cat would have frowned except for the fact that she never did but merely acknowledged the reception of the order and stowed her polishing kit away, grabbed her combat vest and helmet before heading out of her insanely clean and tidy room.
The operations room was busy with the usual tasks of the Vipers namely tracking and avoiding or destroying known pirates. Strat was as always immaculately clad with the full rack of medals showing his vast experience in the line of duty as peacekeeper. Cat walked over and nodded, signalling that she was ready.
"Right, we have a problemt in Sedina."
"I thought you had Shlim on that?"
"Yes, so did I", Strat pointed to the main terminal, "but as of about nineteen hours ago he stopped reporting in. Half an hour ago, that started airing."
Strat pointed to the secondary holo that displayed CNN and a pretty youngish news-woman who repeated the story about the Slayer of Odia, Shlimazel.
"I have Valkyr on the Sedina patrol but I need someone to find Shlim and find out what is happening. And I figured that you would be better than most of us considering your previous.. ahem, career."
Cat could see that Strat was ill at ease talking about the old days when Cat had been a member of KAOS and she let it slide even as she felt a surge of rage bubble inside of her at the memories she had so inefficiently tried to forget.
"I'll do my best Sir. Any pointers as to where I should look for him?"
"Actually, Valkyr escorted a well-known pirate owned Warthog Mk II that claimed to have Mr. Chaos and an incapacitated Shlimazel aboard to Dau L-10. I'd suggest meeting up with him there. I'll expect a report on my desk within a week with daily progress reports. Dismissed."
Cat saluted smartly and ran to her Vulture. She checked her double gauss pistols and the heavy gauss rifle that was stored inside the miniscule cargo compartment before launching. It sounded like they would come in handy. Off to Dau.
"Cat, report for patrol in the duty ops room asap."
Cat would have frowned except for the fact that she never did but merely acknowledged the reception of the order and stowed her polishing kit away, grabbed her combat vest and helmet before heading out of her insanely clean and tidy room.
The operations room was busy with the usual tasks of the Vipers namely tracking and avoiding or destroying known pirates. Strat was as always immaculately clad with the full rack of medals showing his vast experience in the line of duty as peacekeeper. Cat walked over and nodded, signalling that she was ready.
"Right, we have a problemt in Sedina."
"I thought you had Shlim on that?"
"Yes, so did I", Strat pointed to the main terminal, "but as of about nineteen hours ago he stopped reporting in. Half an hour ago, that started airing."
Strat pointed to the secondary holo that displayed CNN and a pretty youngish news-woman who repeated the story about the Slayer of Odia, Shlimazel.
"I have Valkyr on the Sedina patrol but I need someone to find Shlim and find out what is happening. And I figured that you would be better than most of us considering your previous.. ahem, career."
Cat could see that Strat was ill at ease talking about the old days when Cat had been a member of KAOS and she let it slide even as she felt a surge of rage bubble inside of her at the memories she had so inefficiently tried to forget.
"I'll do my best Sir. Any pointers as to where I should look for him?"
"Actually, Valkyr escorted a well-known pirate owned Warthog Mk II that claimed to have Mr. Chaos and an incapacitated Shlimazel aboard to Dau L-10. I'd suggest meeting up with him there. I'll expect a report on my desk within a week with daily progress reports. Dismissed."
Cat saluted smartly and ran to her Vulture. She checked her double gauss pistols and the heavy gauss rifle that was stored inside the miniscule cargo compartment before launching. It sounded like they would come in handy. Off to Dau.
Very nice, Cat! Glad to have you in the story!
Cat sent a couple of queries along in advance asking for information on Shlim in the vain hope that one of them would return with... well, anything really. She jumped through the Latos/Azek wormhole and navigated around known roidfields in the stormy sector. She entered the Azek/Dau wormhole sector to an incoming message from one of her contacts.
"Meet me in Dau K-10" it merely said. She felt the small hair rise on the back of her neck at the mention of that particular station. She hadn't been there since she helped break the thrice cursed Asteroth out of jail. She plotted the requisite course and readied for the xithricite-green polution around K-10.
The docking was uneventful as would be expected when a Viper member wanted to dock at a major TPG station. She used her brainpal to hijack an internal security cam and checked her appearance quickly. Short-cropped black hair and slightly pale skin that was the result of too many hours in the cockpit topped the almost two metres gaunt, yet muscular frame. She relinquished the control of the camera and walked into the meeting place. She was actually annoyed with herself, she had never felt a need to control her looks before, it had never been an issue, why now?
The station was clean and tidy with groups of people almost everywhere as befitted one of the most busy stations in UIT, or even all of known space. Still, she had no problems spotting her contact even if he had his brainpal set to private. He was grinning widely with a cup of Verasi Koffee in each hand. Cat nodded in greeting and walked over.
"Riddik."
"Cat, long time since. Koffee? Black as my heart."
Cat grinned back despite her usual self-control and accepted the cup of steamy black goodness. She sipped the brew and looked up at Riddik.
"So, what do you have for me?"
"It wasn't easy for me to get it, so you owe me big time!"
Cat waved a hand in reply. "Go on."
"Looks like your boy impersonated a Serco pilot by the name of Zulu Bob and used that name and persona to infiltrate Sedina D-14."
"Okay, he probably needed to talk to someone?"
Riddik shook his head and continued. "Nah, 'cause he was arrested and by some fluke of Corvus lack of intelligence managed to fake that he was a member of ONE, thus being freed. As far as I know, they don't arrest you for talking to people. They arrest you for trespassing or stealing or the like. And they don't free even ONE members for "the like"."
"How did you.. Ah, Keria."
Riddik pointed his finger at Cat like firing a gun. "Bingo. He would have gotten away free if it wasn't for a particularly nosy Corvus official who contacted ONE with a complaint. The missus was furious."
"I see. Thank Rid, I have something to investigate now."
"No problem Cat. Just one thing though," he said as she was about to walk back. "Why the hell is Mr. Chaos infiltrating Corvus with this Zulu Bob in tow? If you can figure that one out, the missus would like to know."
She nodded and walked back to her Vulture, deep in thoughts. This was getting more complex by the minute. She would have to speak to Shlim and hear it from himself. Off to Dau L-10 and the main trauma station.
"Meet me in Dau K-10" it merely said. She felt the small hair rise on the back of her neck at the mention of that particular station. She hadn't been there since she helped break the thrice cursed Asteroth out of jail. She plotted the requisite course and readied for the xithricite-green polution around K-10.
The docking was uneventful as would be expected when a Viper member wanted to dock at a major TPG station. She used her brainpal to hijack an internal security cam and checked her appearance quickly. Short-cropped black hair and slightly pale skin that was the result of too many hours in the cockpit topped the almost two metres gaunt, yet muscular frame. She relinquished the control of the camera and walked into the meeting place. She was actually annoyed with herself, she had never felt a need to control her looks before, it had never been an issue, why now?
The station was clean and tidy with groups of people almost everywhere as befitted one of the most busy stations in UIT, or even all of known space. Still, she had no problems spotting her contact even if he had his brainpal set to private. He was grinning widely with a cup of Verasi Koffee in each hand. Cat nodded in greeting and walked over.
"Riddik."
"Cat, long time since. Koffee? Black as my heart."
Cat grinned back despite her usual self-control and accepted the cup of steamy black goodness. She sipped the brew and looked up at Riddik.
"So, what do you have for me?"
"It wasn't easy for me to get it, so you owe me big time!"
Cat waved a hand in reply. "Go on."
"Looks like your boy impersonated a Serco pilot by the name of Zulu Bob and used that name and persona to infiltrate Sedina D-14."
"Okay, he probably needed to talk to someone?"
Riddik shook his head and continued. "Nah, 'cause he was arrested and by some fluke of Corvus lack of intelligence managed to fake that he was a member of ONE, thus being freed. As far as I know, they don't arrest you for talking to people. They arrest you for trespassing or stealing or the like. And they don't free even ONE members for "the like"."
"How did you.. Ah, Keria."
Riddik pointed his finger at Cat like firing a gun. "Bingo. He would have gotten away free if it wasn't for a particularly nosy Corvus official who contacted ONE with a complaint. The missus was furious."
"I see. Thank Rid, I have something to investigate now."
"No problem Cat. Just one thing though," he said as she was about to walk back. "Why the hell is Mr. Chaos infiltrating Corvus with this Zulu Bob in tow? If you can figure that one out, the missus would like to know."
She nodded and walked back to her Vulture, deep in thoughts. This was getting more complex by the minute. She would have to speak to Shlim and hear it from himself. Off to Dau L-10 and the main trauma station.
this is why im not allowed to fly ships anymore
:) nice work ma'am.
:) nice work ma'am.
Another section up. And very nice Cat.
The Vulture docked at the prescribed safety speed on the correct traffic control assigned vector with the F-18 docking bay. Inside the cockpit Cat methodically went through the post-flight systems checks, setting the ship up for instant action when she wanted to leave the station again. Sighing mentally she opened the canopy to the cacophony of sounds and smell of Dau Senate. And the people naturally, the UIT citizenry of the capitol station, the most corrupt population anywhere in known space. Cat took the helmet off and placed it on top of the controls before locking everything into place with a brainpal command. Already, two officials were standing next to her ship eagerly waiting with papers in hand.
Cat got out of the cockpit, closed the hatch and turned.
"Welcome to Dau Senate, the capitol station."
Heavily overweight in a rumpled too-small uniform that was sweat and food stained several places, the customs official was only outdone in grossness by the body odour of his companion who had apparently decided that Eau de Cesspool was fashionable this season. The source of the smell became apparent as he opened his mouth.
"We have some papers you need to fill Ms."
The stack of papers was about fifteen pages. Cat didn't have time for this and knew that they didn't want her to fill any papers at all.
"How much?"
The customs official looked appalled and clutched his checkboard to his chest as protection as he stuttered a reply. "I have no idea what you are suggesting."
The other merely looked at Cat, then at the fairly large Viper mark on her uniform and her ship.
"500."
The customs official was just about to protest as Cat paid the duo but didn't utter a word as he collected his bribe and Cat left them behind, heading for the hospital deck.
The hospital deck was supposed to smell sterile and clean. Instead a sour smell of cigarettes filled her augmented olfactory sense and she queried her brainpal. Sercan make, probably "Sol Nails". Her brainpal highlighted one connection. And surely enough, from about three doors further down, Mr. Chaos popped his head out with an unlit cigaret in his mouth. Spotting Cat, he removed it and smiled broadly, saying only two words, "I'm innocent".
Cat shook her head and smiled back.
"That would be a first then. How's the kid?"
Cat got out of the cockpit, closed the hatch and turned.
"Welcome to Dau Senate, the capitol station."
Heavily overweight in a rumpled too-small uniform that was sweat and food stained several places, the customs official was only outdone in grossness by the body odour of his companion who had apparently decided that Eau de Cesspool was fashionable this season. The source of the smell became apparent as he opened his mouth.
"We have some papers you need to fill Ms."
The stack of papers was about fifteen pages. Cat didn't have time for this and knew that they didn't want her to fill any papers at all.
"How much?"
The customs official looked appalled and clutched his checkboard to his chest as protection as he stuttered a reply. "I have no idea what you are suggesting."
The other merely looked at Cat, then at the fairly large Viper mark on her uniform and her ship.
"500."
The customs official was just about to protest as Cat paid the duo but didn't utter a word as he collected his bribe and Cat left them behind, heading for the hospital deck.
The hospital deck was supposed to smell sterile and clean. Instead a sour smell of cigarettes filled her augmented olfactory sense and she queried her brainpal. Sercan make, probably "Sol Nails". Her brainpal highlighted one connection. And surely enough, from about three doors further down, Mr. Chaos popped his head out with an unlit cigaret in his mouth. Spotting Cat, he removed it and smiled broadly, saying only two words, "I'm innocent".
Cat shook her head and smiled back.
"That would be a first then. How's the kid?"
Nice, Cat! I'm going to need to tell some more tale soon.
Chaos spat a long stream of brown saliva onto the previously pristine floor, spattering droplets on the lower parts of the wall and onto a hideously expensive looking machine, before lighting the cigaret and taking a long hard pull on it.
"Not too bad considering."
He squinted as the acrid fumes from the tip of the Nail halfway covered his face and removed a piece tobacco from the tip of his tongue before continuing, "although the word considering can cover quite some distance I guess."
Cat frowned inwardly at the mess Mr. Chaos was creating on the floor and walls but knew that the highly eccentric pilot was very efficient at his job and as such had a longer leash than Keria normally granted to her pilots.
"I better go look for myself then. And Keria wants to speak to you. Something with unsanctioned infiltration of Corvus and things."
Chaos took another pull of the Nail before nodding slightly, "yeah I guess I better 'splain the hows and wheres."
He dumped the remaining half-centimetre of the cigaret and stomped on it before pointing at a the door he just exited.
"He's in there, tell him to contact me when he gets on his feet, okay?"
Cat nodded and walked over to open the door. The antiseptic smell was even worse inside with only the slightly elevated oxygen level that diluted her olfactory senses. She stopped in the doorway and looked at the piece of human debris that inhabited the bed. Cat was not a stranger to war, wounds or general damage to the rather frail human body but all her experience was either as part of a Sercan boarding team where basically everything they met got blown spectacularly to pieces or on the receiving end of an enemy boarding team. Which meant she was used to seeing the damaged bodies of Sercan soldiers.
A Sercan soldier is designed for many things. But the overriding priority had always been survivability, hence the large extent of cybernetic enhancements. This meant that most Sercan either got vaporised or were damaged on such a way that they would have parts replaced. Not so with the frail UIT persons it seemed. Half of Shlim's body was covered in bandages and his head was wrapped in more bandages. His left arm was in some kind of plastic and a plethora of machines were hooked up to him. Cat wasn't even sure that the thing inside the machines was alive. Considering... That must have been some fight indeed. Cat cleared her throat and the thing inside stirred.
"Who's there?"
"Rest easy Shlim, it is Cat. Strat wanted me to come and keep an eye on you. We are Vipers, right?"
Shlim waved the fingers of his right hand in greeting.
"I am fine. Nothing to worry about, just give me a couple of days and I'll be right as rain."
Cat poked his stomach and got the requested muffled grunt of pain from Shlim.
"Guess you aren't. I'm going to be staying here for a bit anyway, why don't you tell me what has happened so far Shlim? Or should I call you Zulu Bob from now on?"
A slight chuckle came from Shlim, almost immediately stopped and replaced by grunts of pain.
"Ow, these stomach wounds hurt like a mother when you laugh."
"Then start talking or I'll access the local joke database and torture you with laughter."
More grunts of pain, "yeah, okay. You win."
"Not too bad considering."
He squinted as the acrid fumes from the tip of the Nail halfway covered his face and removed a piece tobacco from the tip of his tongue before continuing, "although the word considering can cover quite some distance I guess."
Cat frowned inwardly at the mess Mr. Chaos was creating on the floor and walls but knew that the highly eccentric pilot was very efficient at his job and as such had a longer leash than Keria normally granted to her pilots.
"I better go look for myself then. And Keria wants to speak to you. Something with unsanctioned infiltration of Corvus and things."
Chaos took another pull of the Nail before nodding slightly, "yeah I guess I better 'splain the hows and wheres."
He dumped the remaining half-centimetre of the cigaret and stomped on it before pointing at a the door he just exited.
"He's in there, tell him to contact me when he gets on his feet, okay?"
Cat nodded and walked over to open the door. The antiseptic smell was even worse inside with only the slightly elevated oxygen level that diluted her olfactory senses. She stopped in the doorway and looked at the piece of human debris that inhabited the bed. Cat was not a stranger to war, wounds or general damage to the rather frail human body but all her experience was either as part of a Sercan boarding team where basically everything they met got blown spectacularly to pieces or on the receiving end of an enemy boarding team. Which meant she was used to seeing the damaged bodies of Sercan soldiers.
A Sercan soldier is designed for many things. But the overriding priority had always been survivability, hence the large extent of cybernetic enhancements. This meant that most Sercan either got vaporised or were damaged on such a way that they would have parts replaced. Not so with the frail UIT persons it seemed. Half of Shlim's body was covered in bandages and his head was wrapped in more bandages. His left arm was in some kind of plastic and a plethora of machines were hooked up to him. Cat wasn't even sure that the thing inside the machines was alive. Considering... That must have been some fight indeed. Cat cleared her throat and the thing inside stirred.
"Who's there?"
"Rest easy Shlim, it is Cat. Strat wanted me to come and keep an eye on you. We are Vipers, right?"
Shlim waved the fingers of his right hand in greeting.
"I am fine. Nothing to worry about, just give me a couple of days and I'll be right as rain."
Cat poked his stomach and got the requested muffled grunt of pain from Shlim.
"Guess you aren't. I'm going to be staying here for a bit anyway, why don't you tell me what has happened so far Shlim? Or should I call you Zulu Bob from now on?"
A slight chuckle came from Shlim, almost immediately stopped and replaced by grunts of pain.
"Ow, these stomach wounds hurt like a mother when you laugh."
"Then start talking or I'll access the local joke database and torture you with laughter."
More grunts of pain, "yeah, okay. You win."
/me doesnt have THAT much of a long leash.
Anyways, yay for more story, and where the hell is shlim and why isnt he writing this :p
Anyways, yay for more story, and where the hell is shlim and why isnt he writing this :p