Prison Ship
-One of the prisoners, an enormous brutish-looking green brute, strains against the specially-reinforced chains, his remaining eye glaring hatred at the warden.-
Ya couldn't make a grot squeal, 'umie runt! Soon as I busts outta dese zoggin' fings you'z squigbait!
-Another prisoner, the top half of her head covered by her own helmet, says nothing.-
-For years she had known nothing but prison and experiments before her first true taste of freedom. The ork had allowed her to stay with him more as a favored pet than a true companion, but P'Li considered him her only friend in the galaxy. The time with him had been a grammatical nightmare and a time of incomparable happiness, of shooting down Federation aircraft from the sky, of freeing innocents from their tyranny, of hearing Federation goons scream as they were blasted to pieces, nothing worse than what they had inflicted to her or others. And then it had all ended, a chase that had cost the Federation dearly in time, men, equipment and money. But still, it had ended.-
-Sometimes, in the darkest hours when the warden had been particularly inventive, she had considered ending it all, just a simple push against the helmet, and the peace of oblivion. But whenever those thoughts entered her mind, they were soon chased away by the thought of revenge against her captors, especially the mineral woman responsible for her years of suffering. Her time would come, P'Li had sworn this.-
edited 12th Aug '15 9:54:27 AM by Chabal2
Stop Killing My Titles
You wouldn't expect a hawk of all things to be a special prisoner on a freighter loaded to brim with one of the most dangerous men and women in all the galaxy.
Alas, sometimes the scariest criminals are the ones that seem the most innocent at a first glance. Such was the case of this avian, currently with its talons, wings and beak locked with the magnetic clasps. At least they didn't keep his eyes closed, like they did to that girl over there.
Pet Shop was a patient creature. It was a part of genes. He was a predator at heart, even if the scientists back there saw to it that he was no ordinary animal. To him, not being reckless like that green... something was something completely normal. A caluclated brain was better than listening to emotions, whatever they were. It was still something of an unknown to him.
Regardless, their arrival at Daedalus was something the hawk has been expecting. Why, you ask? This could very well be the ticket out into freedom, despite the supposed expectations. Pet Shop was smart enough to know that they were a big deal. Big enough for Alliance to take interest in them.
He bid his time in silence, sparing the ork a small, neutral glance. For now.
grah
In many ways, Dak Hamee had always been alone.
From his infancy- from the day that the elders of his tribe had declared him a Seer- he had grown up knowing that he was a one-of-a-kind creature, that there would never really be anything like him in the world. Because Seers were always meant to be alone. Seers, the elders told him, were sent to the world by Father Deep and Mother Sky, when the People had a great need.
Because Seers were different from the rest of the People. They could look deeper into things, ask why things were the way they were. When a Seer spoke, the whole tribe clung to every word.
Another culture would call him a prophet, a messianic figure venerated by a primitive religious system. But Hork-Bajir had no real religious rites, no intricate belief systems or complex mythologies to follow. Seers just were, and they didn't need to be anything more than seers.
So Dak grew up alone. He was showered with love from his father and mother, affection from his older sibling, respect from the elders. But at the same time he was always apart from them, separated from his friends and family by a vast cognitive gulf. It was a burden, of a sort, that he had eventually learned to shoulder.
And then the humans had begun to do Things. The humans had arrived from somewhere else, beyond Mother Sky. This was all before Dak was born; but the Elders told him that they had ocme in a sort of flying egg. They were small, and strange, but the People did not mind. They lived in the high mountains between valleys and let the People live their lives the way they always had. Sometimes they sent "ci-ent-ists" to look at the People, or to take leaves from the great trees that scattered the valley. Things had been peaceful for a while.
Then the humans started telling the Elders that their People were not People, but merely a kind of animal that talked. Dak's grasp on English had been rudimentary, learned from an old book that one of the humans had left behind. He had been forced to play ambassador between the two people as they talked. They spoke about "leg-is-lat-ures" and "au-tor-i-zachion" and "cent-i-ence", hurling words that Dak couldn't understand.
That night, he had spoken with the Elders in the Tribe Tree. Because he was the Seer. This was what the Deep and the Sky had sent him for.
"You must talk to the humans." said Elder Mab Kahet.
"Yes. You must talk to the humans." agreed Elder Ponto Fallah
At fifteen, Mab Kahet was the oldest Hork-Bajir in their valley; he cracked open a sleepy eye and stared at Dak with one rheumy eye. "The humans come from beyond the Sky. You must go beyond the Sky, to where the humans come from. You must... tell them that we are the People."
Dak was their Seer. He acted for the good of the People.
Dak hadn't liked the ship. It had taken several days to find a ship willing to carry one of the strange, vicious-looking natives offworld in the first place, much less three of the things. The humans on the ship called it a "freighter". Dak and his two friends- Delf Haljool and Jagil Hullan- spent most of their time in the greasy cargo hold, caked with rust and grime. It was the only place big enough to accommodate them, after all.
It had been a six-day flight to Daedalus.
With the help of the ship's computer, Dak had spent the first two days perfecting his English skills. From there, it took him another day to learn to speak French and German, an afternoon to learn Cantonese, than a few hours to master Latin. (He was a little embarrassed to learn that Latin was a language that most people considered dead... although for some strange reason most of the root verbs seemed linked to most other languages. Strange.) He perused the ship's library, burning his way through books, and tablets and scrolls.
By the time that the ship was orbiting Daedalus, he was studying the Code of Hammurabi. There were words and terms that he still did not understand, but on the whole wasn't it best to start at the beginning?
Daedalus was about as far from home as one could get. The air was thick with smoke and fumes, and other less identifiable things. Even the trees were different; sickly and stunted little wisps of green. Dak's tail twitched as he suppressed the urge to climb, to scramble up the nearest building and leave this place behind. There were humans here in great swarms. And other species too: ones that walked or flew or shuffled or crawled, in every shade of the rainbow. For the first time in his life, nobody was paying attention to Dak. It as a strange feeling, like he had turned into someone else. Just another face in a crowd.
So many buildings, and so many people. Dak had no idea where to even begin. The people on the ship had mentioned something called a parade, whatever that was. He was about to ask the nearest passerby for directions to the parade when he saw a great illuminated sign, picked out in pretty glowing letters.
Rick's Bar.
He had read about bars on the ship; from what he could understand they were places of law. Humans sometimes said that they had to pass a bar in order to become something called a lawyer, which was either a human who practiced the law or some kind of parasitic creature. Humans could be strange sometimes.
"Don't like." moaned Delf as he plunked his huge body onto a decrepit metal stool near the counter. "Air smell bad."
"We don't need to be here for too long," whispered Dak- speaking in his native tongue, tones reassuring- as he patted his friend on the shoulder. "All I need-" he faltered and slipped back into English; the concepts he was speaking of had not yet been invented by the Hork-Bajir "all I need to do is speak to the proprietor of this establishment, and hopefully find a lawyer."''
He turned his attention to the human currently heading the bar, craning his head toward the man. "Excuse me," he said in his gravelly voice, "Are you the human named 'Rick?'"
Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is!
Three days ago, Neo had received the order from Morpheus to come here. The Zion Resistance needed allies, Morpheus had said, and the best way to do that was to prove it could be an asset to the greater movement against the Federation. Neo hadn't really seen the fight to free Zion in that context, but if the Machines used Stormtroopers to keep order in the Mega City and the Federation called his homeworld 01, just like the Machines did, then he supposed that was proof enough.
Daedalus reminded Neo of the Mega City, if the architecture had caught up with the technology running everything. For the first time in almost a year, he could eat something other than synthesized goop or mushrooms and not have to worry that he'd start seeing things the way the Machines wanted him to, the way he used to see things before the Resistance had freed his mind. He could eat this bowl of noodles he'd just bought as he sat in the Alliance meeting room and trust that it was, for lack of a better word, real.
"Present," he said as he took his chopsticks out of their wrapper. Like the man who'd just entered, Neo wasn't really looking at anyone at the moment. His dark sunglasses made sure nobody knew that fact. "My name is Neo. I'm here on behalf of the Zion Resistance."
edited 12th Aug '15 10:49:01 AM by NitrousThunder
Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?
Breath of the Sun
"I would genuinely like to see him try and threaten me." A voice grumbled. It was a deep and gravelly voice, and the glowing pair of yellow eyes in the darkness made it very obvious who the voice belonged to. The large purple Zebesian was hunched over and glaring at everyone who entered.
"Though I suppose I shouldn't leave the elites waiting. Morons aren't the best at being inconspicuous. Hmph." Ridley mentally noted the irony of calling another being inconspicuous when he himself was both large and instantly recognizable. But then, he'd managed to get to the meeting without being noticed, while his four Silver-type soldiers lacked stealth training. 'Stealth' was a foreign concept to most Zebesians, in fact. Ridley had haphazardly thrown together a disguise with a large cloak and sunglasses now laying at his feet. Standing upright with his wings folded, the outfit hid his telltale yellow eyes and draconic form, making him look only vaguely reptilian.
"Though since you humans only live so long, I suppose we should begin. Ridley, representing Zebes High Command, reporting in." He said, snapping a lazy, mocking salute.
edited 12th Aug '15 10:37:44 AM by kagescorpionakki
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
Daedalus, The Docks
The weather had been serviceable today. The skies above were lightly overcast, and the brief forecast Ricco had seen beforehand promised no rain for the parade today. Good. Ricco turned around to the south, where he knew the Prince's entourage would be passing through town. The crowd had taken time from their days to see this, they deserved to not be rained on for once.The wait had been a long one, and it looked to Ricco that there had been a bit more going on than his briefing had stated. This was presented as a normal prison transfer, something that happened relatively often, with a few extra "high-resource" prisoners listed in the roster. High-resource was almost always a nicer way of saying "maximum security prisoner that can and will attempt to break out at a moment's notice", a term the human resources department had thought up in the last couple of years. It was probably to keep the green Trooper's nerves from being frayed, whatever use that was.
More importantly, this specific transfer was attended not by one, but two council-members. The Colonel had a bit of a history with one of them, but he was wary to talk to him in anything but the most official sense. He knew well enough that when Wayne was seen smoking, he was ornery and to be avoided. The other one he hadn't ever seen in person, but it was wise to not bring anything unimportant up in front of two of the most powerful people in the Federation. He had the vaguest idea as to why either of them were in attendance, they'd probably had some kind of interest in one of the High-Resources.
He took a small device decorated as an antique pocket watch out of his breast pocket, flipped it open and checked the time. He gave a quick sigh, which with his respiratory system came out as a brief, chittering hiss. At the prison ship's current rate, they'd be a couple minutes off of their scheduled arrival. If the Council-members didn't bring it up, he'd take the time to chastise the pilot for whatever the delay had been. Otherwise, though, everything was going smoothly so far.
Lord of the Avians
Rick's Bar
"Then let's get on with it," one small, softly glowing rebel responded, "we're better off without the lazy ones, anyway."
With her remark's conclusion, Midna returned her attention to a small tablet(best not to ask where she got it from) displaying a detailed diagram of a standard stormtrooper uniform, apparently built for a human male. As the imp studied, the other rebels in the room -those looking around, at least- would see her right arm dissolve into a cloud of dark particles, before reforming into a longer appendage that appeared to be identical to the one detailed on her borrowed device.
"Oh, are we taking role?" her arm returned to normal as rapidly as it had transformed, "Midna, representing herself, right here."
The Docks
A stormtrooper stood on one of the dock's security towers, his left shoulder emblazoned with the crest
◊ of his homeworld. Although his laser rifle was set up close by, the stormtrooper was presently ignoring it. Instead, he was holding a sword, carefully sweeping it in all directions. With this technique, the stormtrooper would know quite quickly if any bombs came into the docks.
This particular stormtrooper was Link, a young stormtrooper captain from Hyrule. Though a seasoned and respected officer on his own planet, this was his first time serving off his homeworld, and as such he(as well as those Hylians under his command) was being especially vigilant.
That said, Link was actually enjoying himself quite a lot. He was surrounded by honorable warriors on an intriguing planet, the weather was pleasant, and he was protecting two of the most important individuals in the galaxy. Truly, it was a good day.
Rick's Bar — Alliance Rendezvous
"Guess I should make my presence known, huh?" A young, blue haired man mumbled aloud, smirking from across the dark room.
He scanned the room from eye-to-eye, with a hint of curiosity and excitement clearly visible in his eyes — in spite of the minor obfuscation given by his large, triangular orange-tinted sunglasses. It seemed his company ranged from standard, if odd-looking humans such as himself to strange, impish creatures to large, dragon-like monsters. Although he had grown accustomed to most alien species throughout his time among the stars, it was still something to see the extent at which they can range from. These individuals were now partially new allies to him, which made him all the more interested.
In terms of the man's own appearance, he centered between a look of flamboyance and crudity; he had no shirt on, exposing his tanned and muscular physique, as well as a few of the dark blue tattoos going along his upper arms, though most were covered up by the long red cape that hung broadly on his shoulders. Protective wrappings covered his lower abdomen and forearms, his dark brown pants seemed to be button and zipper-less, instead being loosely held up by a snugly tied belt. At his side was a sheathed, curved sword, probably considered ancient and obsolete by today's standards.
He stood up from his spot against the back wall.
"'Name's Kamina. Ready for duty." He gave a brief nod, while keeping his perpetual smile.
In spite of his over-eager demeanor, he conducted himself with the air of a professional, attuned from his years as a guard-for-hire...for the most part. Of course, after hearing other people call out who they represented, he figured he might as well add something into his own introduction.
"Oh. Uh, yeah! Representing Team Gurren." He gave a sharp grin, ignoring the fact that his 'Team' consisted of only one member for the time being.
edited 12th Aug '15 2:46:50 PM by lightdarkhero250
I'm a ghost, you didn't see me.
Among the faceless ranks of the stormtroopers, one small group stood out from the rest. A group of 5 people. 4 of who were unremarkable from the rest of the stormtroopers, save for the fact that they had red armor, in contrast to the majority of the others. The last one, their leader, was much different. She sported a highly unusual set of armor, a set that had been made to resemble a set of armor that one might have seen worn in the distant past, in the old days where you had a better chance of being killed via a sword to the gut then a shot to the head. This armor had been passed down through her family for generations, and while the look had remained more or less the same, the technology inside was far from outdated, comparable to any top of the line armor fielded by the federation today.
Hilde glanced up at a clock. The transport would be late at this rate. It happened, of course. Even in the military, nothing ever truly ran on time. No amount of drilling and training could account for everything. Still, it irked her, more then it probably should have. She and her crew had been assigned here to make sure the prisoner transfer went off without any problems. It should have gone no further then that. But she had seen the prisoner manifest, and there was one prisoner in particular that she had noticed. Someone who had attacked her people, and brought shame to her family name. She knew she should not be making this personal, and was trying her best to ignore his presence here beyond what was expected of her. She needed a distraction. She needed to do something more productive then standing around waiting.
"I am going to go and inspect the troops here." She announced to her own people. "Wait here."
"Understood!" One of the men said, saluting as she walked away.
In time, she found herself at one of the security towers on the docks. So far, she had been satisfied with what she had seen. Then she saw something unusual. A trooper who was holding a sword. Most unusual. One did not see many swords these days, let alone being held by stormtroopers who had no standard training with them. Her curiosity at this unusual scene caused her to approach the trooper.
"That is an impressive sword you have there." She said as she approached. "Not something one sees very often these days."
Dark Eye
A hooded woman looked up, a hologram fading out as she turned her head to the crowd, revealing a completely different face to the one that had been visible when she walked in.
"Kiriko Shijima. Representing..."
She paused, the monotone in her voice dropping slightly as she reached the last word.
"Nobody, for now."
In her hand she held the Break Gunner, which was currently active. Before she'd even entered the bar she'd inserted Midnight Shadow and was using it to block nearby signals, which should stop any bugs or tracking devices from broadcasting while inside.
Kiriko had come here alone and while she was really representing her comrades in the Android Crimes Division, that group didn't exist any more. The name belonged to the Federation, really, and they certainly didn't work for them anymore. Although she didn't wish to dwell on it, for fear of what might have happened, she didn't even know where any of the others were right now. But the others in this room were rebels, and many fugitives too. This was a start.
Distracting him from the important duty of looking official, Ricco spotted something distinctly off in one of the sniper towers behind him. He could see a sword slowly being waved around the edges of the tower by a Stormtrooper. Considering status and power of today's official company, horseplay was the absolute last thing needed at this time.
With a confident but obviously hurried stride, he made his way to the base of the tower. Ascending the thin flight of stairs with a constant, ringing thumping, he turned to find two humans already in the tower.
"Captain, though a sword is indeed allowed in your dress, you're supposed to be at your post. If a prisoner were to break free, you are expected to be shooting before they kill someone, not after! How do you expect to do that holding a sword?"
The Docks
A little way off from the massed groups of soldiers, a small entourage of outwardly human figures stood, flanked by what appeared to be a number of stormtroopers, their armor an unusual dull grey color trimmed with gold and a strange symbol.svg){kind=small}
emblazoned on their helmets.
From among their number, Lord Ba'al
◊ surveyed the situation with mounting exasperation. The prisoner exchange was but the latest function, the latest piece of drudgework forced upon him by those who had the audacity to call themselves his superiors. "Diplomatic mission" Apophis had said to him - as though sending him to act as a glorified messenger was anything more than a transparent ruse to keep him away from anything of true importance.
His latest task was to meet with the council members also attending, greet them and press upon them of the Goa'uld Empire's contributions to this alliance, and their losses at the hands of these very rebels (Ba'al suppressed a laugh at the thought - as if any Goa'uld would be anything but pleased at the elimination of unwanted rivals!) and to remind them that for their troubles, the Empire sought greater representation on the council - a request that they would certainly refuse, as Apophis surely knew. This entire mission was a waste of Ba'al's time, and he didn't doubt that was the point. It was best to get it over with.
"Jaffa, kree!"
At their leader's words the grey stormtroopers stood to attention, and followed him closely as he made his way towards the secure area, forcing his host's face into an affable expression as he approached.
edited 12th Aug '15 2:08:16 PM by Vox
Quite shocking
Rick's Bar
Just entering the Bar was a burly man in the a large dusty brown hooded robe with a notable cybernetic enhancement with a red glow on the right side of his face,this was a robe that was being worn by someone who is trying to keep there head down and go about about there business in peace and that person was Kano, leader of the Black Dragon.
His presence on Deadalus was purely a business trip. See some people had "Debts" as it were that were owed to the Black Dragon and while Kano could have sent some goons to collect what was owed, he himself thought it was a good use of his time to personally "convince" the people to pay what was owed and to be honest he was bored.
Scouting out the bar Kano looked for an empty stool so that he could kick back and relax after a hard day of breaking kneecaps and fingers. Fortunately for the Black Dragon boss there was an empty stool right near the roundtable.
Taking his seat near the roundtable Kano lowered his hood as there was no point for a shoddy disguise like that in this dingy old place, the cloak was so that the law enforcement the people who owed him would notice him at a glance. "Barkeep your strongest alchoholic drink if you would. And perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me what the word on the street is" A sly grin crept on Kano's face this had been a busy day he deserved to treat himself once in a while and any information he could gather here could be useful in the future, but for the moment Kano needed a bloody drink.
edited 12th Aug '15 2:32:13 PM by paperorc
Lord of the Avians
The Docks
Midway through a round of dowsing, Link noticed a woman in rather unusual armor approaching him. As she grew closer, he lowered his weapon."Thanks," he smiled beneath his helmet, "Most people seem to think it's antiquated weapon, but it's really quite a useful tool, so long as one is properly trained."
About to continue, Link found himself reprimanded by Ricco, who the Hylian understood to be in charge of the operation.
"My apologies, Sir, I was under the impression you would've been made aware," he sheathed his blade as he spoke, "My weapon is programmed with specialized sensory systems. I was sweeping the area for explosives."
"In the event of a prisoner escape or the detection of explosives, my rifle is just here," the Hylian stormtrooper gestured to his sniper rifle, "but if you'd prefer, I can position myself immediately."
edited 12th Aug '15 2:48:29 PM by Falkon
"I did not know that, Captain. I also somehow doubt that our benefactors from the Council would either, and to have them ask about why it appeared you were slowly cutting the air wouldn't end up well." He took out a handkerchief and briefly dabbed at his mouth, before turning his head slightly to his right. "Ah, the Hylian unit? You must be Captain Link, then. I'd question why you're up here instead of leading your men directly, but I'll assume you're the better shot out of all of them."
Ricco turned around and overlooked the dock's number of troopers in formation. "It is nice to see a foreign unit doing work here," he added, "but it's in our best interests that we keep this as straight laced as possible for the Council. Try and keep your conversation brief, you two." He turned back to the other one. "Though, none of us ever properly introduced ourselves. Colonel Horner, at your service, miss...?"
Paranormal Activity VII
Rick's Bar
Scurrying across the bar as the members of the Alliance entered the bar were short and dark-purplish creatures
that looked over and examined each of the members as they walked in the back of the bar, squeaking with unreadable expressions on thier faces. They squeaked as the moved across the floor, moving from the back areas over to the main bar, to where they hopped onto empty stools and had their eyes fall over to a purple-skinned middle aged woman
already sitting in a spot in the bar. She, unlike the others, was not wearing a hooded garb and on her side of the table, a scimitar was stuck on the table. Already having three bottles of booze during her visit to the bar, she took a drink with her fourth bottle. She looked over to the Tinkerbats that had crowded over her and exchanged looks with all of them. She then looked over at the back room that the Alliance members entered and shut the door for their meeting
"Huh. Those Alliance guys must really want to stick it to the Feds today if they want to meet here in broad daylight." Risky mumbled to herself as she took a look. "Those guys are gonna need all the luck they need if they want to fight them today of all days." she said with another sip. "That said, I'm sure you guys want to do whatever we gotta do in order to reunite our crew. And we would have had all of our crew... if it wasn't for that pointy-eared brat in Scuttle Town...!" she said as she squeezed the bottle so much that she crushed the bottle, sending booze and broken glass from her hand. She then sighed. "We need to break them out somehow..." she said clearly getting exasperated by the minute. The Tinkerbats simply got up from the barstools and scurried across the floor again.
"Rick! I need another bottle over here! Or else I'll sic my crew and take it all from ya!" she shouted over to Rick.
The Docks
"Pardon me! 'Scuse me!"
The words were said over and over as a young teen girl walked through the seemingly endless sea of Stormtrooper troops moving into position across the Docks. She was also adorned with Stormtrooper armor of her own, missing her helmet as she weaved through the troops. Her actions started to annoy many troops that were starting to get into position, and her expression on her face was starting to turn sheepish and apologetic as she went on. After she moved from the main mass of Stormtroopers, she waved at the ones she annoyed with a sheepish smile on her face, while saying "Sorry guys!" over and over again. She sighed and then sat on the floor, checking over to the clock to see what time it was.
"I'll be glad when we finally get started on this transfer..." Shantae said as she looked at the time. She sighed and brushed off her armor, checking her Federation ordered rifle also. Her quest to bring in the space pirate Risky Boots and her army of Tinkerbats had sent her here, and she was also ordered to be security detail with the parade and prison transfer. Her first one in fact after joining a year ago after defeating the Ammo Baron back home at Scuttle Town. And by the way both were going so far, she kinda wished she was back at Scuttle Town right now.
That wasn't here nor there though, and after checking to see if everything was all right, Shantae slung her rifle over her shoulder and walked over to one of the security towers in the docks. The sights were impressive to the young teen though, never being around industrialized and mechanical buildings. She stood on one of the other towers, looking over as the other troops went over to their positions.
edited 13th Aug '15 4:23:58 PM by mrstack345
Your works are one trope short.
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Rick's Bar
Rick had been sizing up the three Hork-Bajir with a sidelong glance from the moment they'd walked into his bar. They may have been a species he'd never laid eyes on before, but they were heavily muscled and damn tall, and long experience told the one-eyed man that usually meant tough customers. Yet, to his surprise, the lead one seemed very well spoken. Well, Ma had always said not to judge a book by its cover, although that very thought brought a certain other customer to mind, so that the scowl of a greeting he shot the trio was a mite deeper than he intended.
"Aye, I'm Rick," he answered shortly, squinting, "What'll it be?"
At that very moment, however, Kano took a seat and made his order. Thankfully, the bartender was nothing if not professional, and no stranger to multi-tasking. He spared the new man a brief glance before turning and beginning to pull out the materials he'd need. If this cyborg wanted to test his doubtless-mechanical liver and send himself straight to the hospital operating room, well, that was none of Rick's concern. Business was business, and he'd be making a pretty penny off the exchange. Information, on the other hand, wasn't a commodity he was willing to be quite so laissez-faire about. "Word on the street's that the parade'll be a hoot," he replied flatly, "Pan-Galactic's five minutes, plus forty-"
But for the second time in nearly as many minutes, the proprietor was interrupted, this time by a purple cut-throat shattering her bottle. "Ten for the bottle and ten for labor costs," Rick demanded immediately, reaching one hand under the bar for a new drink even as the other reached beneath for his rifle. It seemed this pirate who thought she was still a somebody on Daedalus was a tough customer, but Rick knew very well how to deal with tough customers.
edited 13th Aug '15 5:24:27 AM by darksidevoid
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
huzzaaaaaaaah
Alliance Meeting
"The lazy ones are as essential as you, Midna." The voice replied, before the sound of something falling on the background took her attention. "One moment. I'm trying to get the holographic transmitter back up."
Eventually, a woman wearing a bug-eye mask appeared in the middle of the area, almost as if she was standing right there. The sharp suit she was wearing was a big contrast against the ragtag nature of her mask.
"Hello everyone." She said, crossing her arms. "Wasp here. Thank you all for coming to this meeting- your bravery will forever be remembered by the Alliance. Let's get it started, right?" She stepped aside as a holographic depiction of the transport ship appeared. "This is the Prodigy, a transport ship currently bringing around twenty seven prisoners from an off-world facility to the newest high security prison in Koyukon, the capital."
"We have gathered intel that all of these prisoners were arrested for causing distress against the Federation. They call them terrorists... we call them prospective allies. Unfortunately, seeing as the Federation has become more and more aware of our activities, we're expecting some heavy opposition. I'm talking Stormtroopers... lots of them. Around the hundreds. Hopefully less. Not just that, but we have news that two Council members are there."
The projection of the ship was replaced by Bruce Wayne's smiling mug and Peridot's angry nonplussed face. "Bruce Wayne, face of the Council. Officially, he's there to welcome Prince Kristoff, but some of our camera drones have spotted him at the docks. Peridot, she's responsible for all the experiments the Federation carries out. We don't know why he's there."
"Here's the plan: go into the docks, take back as many prisoners as you can. We don't have any intel on them, so you're gonna have to judge their usefulness on the spot. If it seems like it's someone who'll get off the handle, do something crazy, leave him there. We don't need people like that. That's your priority. I know many of you will feel like this is a prime opportunity to capture Bruce Wayne, but don't. It'll bring too much heat on us."
"Once you get the prisoners, head underground. We have an agent there and she'll lead you to our station... you'll be staying there for a while. Trust me, the skies will be filled with ships, and we have a plan to make the Federation think you guys already escaped. A few hours later and you will all be taken to our headquarters... if all of this doesn't blow up in our hands..."
The Docks
Peridot gave Ba'al something that barely classified as glance, but that apparently was enough for Bruce to sigh and nod to her. "I'll take him." He said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the ground and stomping on it as he headed out the secure area, flanked by four specialized Stormtroopers.
"Lord Ba'al!" Bruce said, spreading his arms wide as if ready to give him a hug, before giving him the customary greeting: a respectful bow. "Such a pleasant surprise seeing you here. I suppose you're interested in Prince Kristoff? He is quite the well-spoken fellow. Shall I get one of the Stormtroopers to arrange some transportation for you and your men?" He said, motioning over to the security tower Shantae was on with a sign that said 'come over'.
Prison Ship
The orks complaints didn't go unheard. In fact, the warden had heard them very well. With a simple thought, electricity coursed through the ork's veins, shocking him until he shut his trap. "Sit down!" The warden growled with just as much strength. "I'll be especially glad to be rid of you. Maker, all those lost nights hearing your rants... I'll be spending them reading about your permanent stay on whatever hole they're throwing you on!"
"Down in five!" The pilot yelled back.
Pet Shop would begin to feel a familiar sensation: the pull he felt whenever near his master, the one he met in Cairo. It was relatively weak, yes, after all he was currently entering a planet's atmosphere, but the sensation was unfamiliar. Something of his was in the planet.
"Eh, you know what, nigga?" a tall black lanky man suddenly spoke as he strides into Rick's Bar, rocking an old smartphone model. "You can celebrate your fucking Federation day without your homies fool. You's be sitting at home waiting for a stripper to come to your fancy ass mansion to jerk your small dick off drinking some Heineken while still crying about Tanisha leaving your dog ass with some brain surgeon or divorce lawyer or some shit."
He paused briefly to take a seat on the booth stool near the bartender. "And meanwhile I be here fucking bitches with my fam. Oh, and did I mention I look after them too? Yeah, unlike you who leave your own bruhs behind, I be here transforming them into entire new levels man, with all that core drills I gonna be drowning in soon and you can be sure of that. Peace out, fool!"
And with an angry press of a button and a not-so-angry slam of the phone onto to the counter top, he does't want to break the screen again, he tapped his two fingers and stated "Lamar Davis, LD, 'Long Dick', repping Chamberlain Planet Gangster Family or CPGF for short." he pulled the breast section of his plain green loose T to accentuate the fact that it's the gang's color. "What up? Did I miss something?"
edited 13th Aug '15 7:13:10 AM by sgtpendulum
http://www.last.fm/user/sgtpendulum Yo, check out what I'm listening, it'll be heat, brah :^)
Stop Killing My Titles
Oh?
Well, that was... unusual. What could possibly be there that belonged to Him? The notion Pet Shop felt was weak, yes, but it was definitely there. Strange, strange.
Well, he had to double his efforts. Sadly, his current predicament disallowed any advancing. He could try have Horus do something about this, but in his position that was a very risky proposal. At worst he'd be shot right there and then. A mere thought was enough to shock him. He had to be careful.
No, for now - until they were still outside Daedalus - he had to wait. Be patient. Patience was good.
grah
Prison Ship
-Grimdakka shakes as he is electrocuted, threats, curses and general yelling drowning out all other sounds, his bionik eye sparking. After the current is removed, leaving smoke and a combined smell of ozone and burned hairsquig, he pants heavily, then spits out drool and blood.-
Dat all ya got, ya panzee?
Hilde turned to the newcomer, offering her hand to him. "Commander Hilde Von Krone. Just inspecting the troops before the ship arrives." She didn't really agree with the Colonel's opinion on Link's activity's. After all, the prison ship was still some ways out, and it would have been quite a surprise if anyone escaped before they even landed. But this was of course hardly the time and place to express such sentiments, so she kept that to herself.
edited 13th Aug '15 4:29:42 PM by Meanken
The Docks
" Mister Wayne."
Ba'al assumed his best "harmless dignitary" smile and inclined his own head in response. His voice had an inhumanly deep and booming cadence, but his tone was soft and agreeable. He knew little more of Wayne than was already common knowledge. Details of the politician's life were suspiciously scarce for so public a figure, and Ba'al's sources had been unable to find anything of significance. The rocky creature who'd somehow scraped her way to power was someone Ba'al had little regard for, dismissing her as a freak, though presumably a useful freak due to her raw intelligence. What other reason did the Council of Five have for including her among their numbers?
"And Lady Peridot. It is always a pleasure to meet a fellow scientist."
The prince? Some insignificant lordling or other. Ba’al couldn’t recall if his planet had anything in the way of natural resources or strategic value. He made a mental note to check just in case.
"Indeed. I look forward to meeting such an eminent royal as he. And of course I was hoping to catch sight of the captured rebels. As I’m sure you’re aware, some among their number were responsible for the assassination of several of my fellows, Lord Selkhet among them. She was...
An arrogant blustering fool? A cretinous upstart so blinded by decadence and luxury as to think herself invincible? Just another petty, squabbling waste of flesh who did nothing in life more useful than leaving it?
...a close personal friend of mine. Justice must be witnessed, is it not so? But I must admit, I am surprised to see two members of the council attending something as ah, trivial as this transfer."
Rick's Bar
"Hello, Rick." The human seemed friendly enough... a bit strange and unkempt-looking compared to the humans that he had seen on his own world, but maybe this was how some humans were. "Are you a practicing law professional? I am trying to find a lawyer. You seemed to have passed your bar..."
It was at that point that the Hork-Bajir seer trailed as Rick reached for a bottle, and slid it across the dirty countertop to the purple humanoid sitting not far away from himself. "Wait. This is the other definition of a bar, isn't it? A place where alcoholic drinks are served for monetary gain. I apologize for the inconvenience." He rested his sharp beak in his wrist for a moment, a contemplative and incongruously philosophical posture for what looked like a gigantic alien dinosaur.
"Spin, spin!" Delf was lazily rotating around on the stool with all the glee of a toddler discovering a new toy; he had never seen anything like the weird contraption that he was now sitting on. He jerked his head backwards and laughed, a harsh rasp that sounded more like a broken belt sander. Jagil watched, clapping her hands in glee and occasionally joining in.
Dak twisted his head around and shot a reproachful look in their direction. "Not now.". Delf and Jagil meant well, but they were a rambunctious duo at the best of times; the last thing he wanted right now was for one of them to accidentally fall and hurt themselves... or even worse, break something. Hork-Bajir didn't really understand the concept of property, but from what he had read humans didn't like having strangers wander into their homes and break things. The purple creature and her reckless behaviour with the bottle seemed to prove that this Rick person held all of his belongings dear.
"If you don't mind me asking," he said after another few seconds of quiet contemplation, "do you know anyone who specialized in the Federation legal system?" He tried to mimic a human's smile on his own rigid face; the effect was nothing short of ghastly. "To quote one of your kings... I seek to bring about the well-being of the oppressed."
edited 13th Aug '15 5:33:28 PM by Locoman
Bruce Wayne enjoyed the crackle of a cigarette, especially as the thin fabric touched his lips. The words of warning from his doctors rang through his ears every time he brought the lighter up to the tip of that cancer stick: "there's a reason why these things can only be found in the black market, Mr. Wayne". Bruce didn't mind the health problems... all he had to do was say 'excuse me' when he started coughing. By now, he needed the little stick. After a day filled with yelling at politicians or at reporters, a good cigarette was the only thing that could calm him down. Still, he wished he could just forget what the doctors had told him- but how could he do it when Peridot would always give him that look?
Next to tall, slender and beautiful Bruce Wayne, always wearing that incredibly expensive suit, Peridot looked like... well, like a piece of rock. It wasn't just because her outer skin was a gem- a shining, almost translucent skin, with her only remaining human features being the two eyes in her head- but because nothing ever looked as pretty as Bruce Wayne. He had that sort of unusual charisma about him.
"Where are they?" Peridot groaned to herself, fingers floating over a holographic computer. The two were standing in the Daedalus Docks, in an area cut off from the rest of the population by Stormtroopers- squares of white blocking anyone trying to get even remotely near the area occupied by the two Council members. Security towers and Federation officers littered the area, alongside patrolling Stormtroopers, as they all waited for the prisoner transport ship that was supposed to arrive within the half hour. A ship filled with high security prisoners- which explained why instead of their normal pistols, all Stormtroopers were carrying laser rifles, primed and ready to attack anyone trying to break in or out.
"They're on their way." Bruce said, blowing out a puff of smoke.
"I've waited far too long for this, Wayne. My project is on that ship— and I won't risk losing her again." Peridot replied, fingers tapping the refresh button as the ETA went from 28 minutes to 25 minutes. "Ugh. Remind me to fire that pilot. His speed is despicable."
"How about we listen to the radio?" Bruce suggested, tapping the screen and turning up the volume on the local radio broadcast, enough to make Peridot roll her eyes all the way through.
"Good morning, Daedalus! And what a beautiful morning, because today we're receiving a visit from the one and only Prince Kristoff- that's right, that guy from Sixsium- and we already have a lot of people spread over the parade route..."
"... it's sure to be a hoot of a parade!"
"Hoot of a parade?" A four-legged drunkard yelled from his booth. "Who the fuck says that?!"
Laughter rang through Rick's Bar, a dingy old joint
◊ in the market area of Daedalus. Whilst you could take a few steps from the frozen food booth and just order a drink at the round table, the best part of Rick's Bar were the booths, spread around the actual bar. A place where you could just order a drink and forget your worries. Some people had spent more time in those booths than at their actual homes- but Rick, the one-eyed, kevlar wearing owner of the bar didn't mind. In fact, as long as you paid, he wouldn't bat an eye if you had someone's head tied to your neck.
But the real reason many people were heading to Rick's Bar that morning was something other than drinking.
"The weather's bad today." A young man said, glancing at the sky.
Rick grunted, cleaning the table with his dirty rag.
"I think a big wind should come and just wipe it all away." The man said, before tapping the table twice with two fingers.
Rick grunted again and left the dirty rag on the table as he bent down to grab something. The young man just stood up and walked towards a burly looking man in a cloak in the back of the bar, who glanced at a small light in the ceiling- one that flashed red for an instant, barely noticeable by anyone not paying attention to it. Nodding, the burly guard stood aside and the man stepped through the door and into a small closed off area- no windows, no doors, not even a ceiling- with a blue and white flag in the back.
The flag of the Alliance. For this was the meeting spot of all rebels intent on breaking out possible future allies.
Taking his spot in the darkness and avoiding to look at any of the other rebels in the area, the young man leaned against the wall and waited. He didn't have to wait long, as a voice echoed in the area, coming out of nowhere in particular. "Is everyone here? I said 9:30. Rick gave us twenty minutes here, no more, no less." The voice belonged to a woman, who soon scoffed. "I don't want to get on his bad side. He spent too much time on prison to ever be considered 'harmless'."
"Wake up, wake up!"
A Stormtrooper banged his nightstick against the wall as he walked through the thin corridor, passing by the cells that made up most of the transport ship. Once he got to a cell, he'd stop in front of the bars, bang against them as hard as possible and roar for the prisoner to wake up.
This kind of rough treatment was nothing new for prisoners- especially high security ones. Everyone on this ship was wearing an orange jumpsuit, designed with built-in shock pads to be activated in case of trouble. Magnetic clamps would keep their hands and feet together. Shoes were built in with a material that could become ten times heavier at a moment's notice. Collars wrapped around their necks, or in some cases around their eyes to keep them from seeing anything. Special prisoners had their hands entirely covered by the clamps. One of them, a woman with an eye on her forehead, wore a helmet that kept most of her face covered- except for her nose.
Equipment especially designed to restrain and punish, and it could all turn against its wearer in a second if the warden- the Stormtrooper with grey patches on his shoulder, the one yelling loudly right now- felt like it. "We'll be arriving in Daedalus in twenty minutes, and I won't have any of you trying to fuck things up! I spent the past three months taking care of you bastards, which is a hell I wouldn't put even my worst enemy through!"
The warden chuckled to himself. " This is gonna be my ticket to a promotion... "
edited 12th Aug '15 5:28:37 AM by Stratofarius