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LeberMac laid on the floor of the rubble-strewn room, a victim of a smashed nose, shattered wrist, various bruises from Lecter's steel-toed boots, multiple flashbangs at close range, a head-butting from Borb's metal-infused cranium, and lastly, a table leg to the head, which had turned out to be the last straw.
For now, he was content to be unconscious, drooling peacefully as he lay awkwardly on the cold steel deck of the room.
Too bad it looked like the exterior door was about to fail, which would leave the room open to the vacuum of space. The additional pressure from the newly-created wall opening had apparently weakened it just enough.
For now, he was content to be unconscious, drooling peacefully as he lay awkwardly on the cold steel deck of the room.
Too bad it looked like the exterior door was about to fail, which would leave the room open to the vacuum of space. The additional pressure from the newly-created wall opening had apparently weakened it just enough.
Yeah, also Leebs, you're unconscious getting subliminal-messaged by me.
[EDIT]
AUGH! This is Smittens. I guess my bro's been using this computer...
[EDIT]
AUGH! This is Smittens. I guess my bro's been using this computer...
I sat there watching with concern as Mogul writhed in pain on the floor of my cargo hold. Deciding this was more then just insanity I decided to risk a trip to Serco space with my "cargo" and to get him some medical attention, in a matter of seconds my ship was on auto pilot to Betheshee without my ever having had left the cargo hold.
Reaching for my on ship medical kit I pulled out a large dose of sedative and with out hesitation stuck it into Mogul's thigh.
"It's going to be ok man." I said as he looked up at me in horror feeling the pain in his leg, before slowly falling asleep. I picked him up in my arms and took him to one of the beds in the small habitation section I had built into all of my proms. As I laid him down I felt some thing very hard on the back of his neck and the lower part of his head.
Rolling him over in concern I swore as what appeared to be a horrible implant job became visible. His hair was matted around a small metal protrusion in his skull with horrific scar tissue surrounding it, it looked like he had hit it with some thing during our escape and it was slowly oozing blood from around the protrusion. Reaching down to touch it I could feel it moving with each beat of his heart. Knowing I had to keep it from being hit again I tied him down to the bed face down, as I called a good friend of mine.
"Doc..."
"Borb! Don't tell me you've trashed your body again?"
"Haha no nothing like that, I just need a big favor, I got a buddy with some thing really screwed up sticking in his head, I think it's an implant or some thing, I just know it looks bad and it's oozing blood. You think you could meet me at my place on Betheshee, I'll disable the security and have the door open so you can get in with out any problems."
Doc as I liked to call him was the only man I could find in Serco space that could re-grow my body after I blew it up during the Faceless incident. After living in that shell for so long wondering what or who I was, well I wanted nothing to do with it after I found out, Doc was the man that was able to get me out. If any one could fix Mogul that person would be Doc.
Thinking back on my time as Faceless I couldn't help but wonder if that's what Mogul was like, me. Maybe he really had lost his mind totally, he knew at least who he was, but rumors had it that was about it. I wondered if he too would sit up and night wondering what happened to him and what he was, or who he was, or how it was that he had become what he was.
As the flight wore on I could not help but feel a connection with Mogul, I vowed I would do all I could in my power to help him. After what seemed like an eternity alone reliving the demons of my past we finally landed at my home, Doc was standing by the landing pad as I hauled Mogul out. I could tell he was already looking him over with his many medical implants.
"Borb, that's no implant, it's a piece of shrapnel, and it looks like it's been slowly working it's way into his brain. We may not have much time." He said to me as I set Mogul down on a hover gurney.
"I should have every thing you'll need here, do you need me to pick up any thing else." He nodded that he had every thing he needed to get it out but said he needed me to pick of a few things from SkyCommaned so he could fix him back up better. With little time wasted I quickly jumped back into my ship and shot off, leaving Mogul in the Doctors more then capable hands.
6 Hours and little sleep later Doc told me he was awake and asking for me.
"Is he, you know normal?" I asked wondering what I was in for.
"Yes very much so, but I um had to stick a few implants in to save him from dyeing once the shrapnel was removed. It's nothing big, but he's not really a pure Itani any more, I haven't told him yet though..."
I turned and set my hand on his shoulder and smiled, "You did your best my friend, at least he can live now to be upset about it." And with that I opened up the doors to see an awake and puzzled Mogul looking at me. I sat down beside him and smiled waiting for him to say some thing.
Reaching for my on ship medical kit I pulled out a large dose of sedative and with out hesitation stuck it into Mogul's thigh.
"It's going to be ok man." I said as he looked up at me in horror feeling the pain in his leg, before slowly falling asleep. I picked him up in my arms and took him to one of the beds in the small habitation section I had built into all of my proms. As I laid him down I felt some thing very hard on the back of his neck and the lower part of his head.
Rolling him over in concern I swore as what appeared to be a horrible implant job became visible. His hair was matted around a small metal protrusion in his skull with horrific scar tissue surrounding it, it looked like he had hit it with some thing during our escape and it was slowly oozing blood from around the protrusion. Reaching down to touch it I could feel it moving with each beat of his heart. Knowing I had to keep it from being hit again I tied him down to the bed face down, as I called a good friend of mine.
"Doc..."
"Borb! Don't tell me you've trashed your body again?"
"Haha no nothing like that, I just need a big favor, I got a buddy with some thing really screwed up sticking in his head, I think it's an implant or some thing, I just know it looks bad and it's oozing blood. You think you could meet me at my place on Betheshee, I'll disable the security and have the door open so you can get in with out any problems."
Doc as I liked to call him was the only man I could find in Serco space that could re-grow my body after I blew it up during the Faceless incident. After living in that shell for so long wondering what or who I was, well I wanted nothing to do with it after I found out, Doc was the man that was able to get me out. If any one could fix Mogul that person would be Doc.
Thinking back on my time as Faceless I couldn't help but wonder if that's what Mogul was like, me. Maybe he really had lost his mind totally, he knew at least who he was, but rumors had it that was about it. I wondered if he too would sit up and night wondering what happened to him and what he was, or who he was, or how it was that he had become what he was.
As the flight wore on I could not help but feel a connection with Mogul, I vowed I would do all I could in my power to help him. After what seemed like an eternity alone reliving the demons of my past we finally landed at my home, Doc was standing by the landing pad as I hauled Mogul out. I could tell he was already looking him over with his many medical implants.
"Borb, that's no implant, it's a piece of shrapnel, and it looks like it's been slowly working it's way into his brain. We may not have much time." He said to me as I set Mogul down on a hover gurney.
"I should have every thing you'll need here, do you need me to pick up any thing else." He nodded that he had every thing he needed to get it out but said he needed me to pick of a few things from SkyCommaned so he could fix him back up better. With little time wasted I quickly jumped back into my ship and shot off, leaving Mogul in the Doctors more then capable hands.
6 Hours and little sleep later Doc told me he was awake and asking for me.
"Is he, you know normal?" I asked wondering what I was in for.
"Yes very much so, but I um had to stick a few implants in to save him from dyeing once the shrapnel was removed. It's nothing big, but he's not really a pure Itani any more, I haven't told him yet though..."
I turned and set my hand on his shoulder and smiled, "You did your best my friend, at least he can live now to be upset about it." And with that I opened up the doors to see an awake and puzzled Mogul looking at me. I sat down beside him and smiled waiting for him to say some thing.
When the door opened, Mogul stared at a tall figure that took up most of the opening. Another Serco. As the previous one who, apparently, was a doctor of some kind. When Mogul woke up on what seemed like a make-shift hospital, anesthesia kept Mogul from screaming in distress at the sight of a laser wielding Serco hunched over his face. It turned out to be some medical laser and nothing immediately threatening. But the sight of a Seco in a TPG facility was not necessarily common.
"This doesn't feel like Latos... are we back in TPG headquarters? Mogul asked.
- I will let your friend explain that a bit later. He has entrusted you to me. You could say I am responsible for your well-being until he returns and any trust he has in me was well-earned.
- Friend? What friend? I was alone in the prototype. It's a one-seater."
Like a cold shower, Mogul gasped at the thought of the TPG Raptor prototype ship. "Where's the prototype?" he asked. But the Serco doctor only looked amused. Or perhaps surprised at the question. Mogul though perhaps this Serco was not in the loop. Not a confident of the TPG test pilot program. He probably didn't know what the Raptor was.
Mogul began thinking about his last few moments, slightly disoriented. Through the room windows, he didn't immediately recognize the star system. That is, until he saw a huge ship warp in. It was the Nemesis! A Serco capital ship entering UIT space? That was unheard of. And that's when the stars ligned up in Mogul's head. He was in Serco space, not UIT.
Then the events came back to him. Like a video diary being played back in his mind. Mogul had just taken the TPG Raptor prototype out for a spin when, in Latos, he ended up face to face with a Serco convoy.
The NSI! Yes! He had just seen it, floating in space waiting for him to pick it up when he vaporised the Serco transport. And as he approached it, in total disbelief, the transport's escort jumped in the sector. The transport had jumped ahead of it's escort to find itself miraculously in the hands of the newly elected ITAN commander.
Mogul remembered the battle. The TPG Raptor prototype he was testing for the Propeller Group handled marvelously compared to previous prototype. But it had weak armour. Then... everything gets fuzzy. Mogul had a hard time remembering past this battle.
He must have lost that battle he thought. With the Raptor's previous failed prototype escape pods, he must have gotten captured he thought. A miracle he didn't die in the incident as other test pilots before him. The ship's explosion might have been the cause of him being in this hospital.
That was the answer to his question. He was now captive of the Serco. And they probably scooped up both the NSI and Raptor prototype. Now everyone in Serco space would know that TPG is using ITAN for testing their new ship. And as a bonus, they had him in captivity!
"Where am I? Mogul asked. This is Serco space! It has to be! Who brought me here?" Mogul started being agitated but bed restraints made him realize that not only sedatives were keeping him nice and tidy.
"Your friend Sarken will return in a few hours. Be patient and... try to relax" said the doctor as he walked out, closing the door behind him.
"I am Mogul Velaio!" he screamed. "I demand both Immunity and direct contact with my people!" he added, in vain.
Hours passed.
Mogul had tried to relax until the door re-opened, time through wich he tried to remember who that Sarken "friend" was. The only Sarken he knew was certainly no friend. Borb Sarken. Second to bare that name. Mogul had read plenty reports of his murderous rampages before.
Mogul looked carefully at the person in the door. He tried to remember his face but... this one was new to him. He had never seen this man... this Serco... before. The tall Serco sat on the bed where Mogul was restrained and smiled at him.
"And who the hell are you?" Mogul asked.
The Serco raised an eyebrow and his mouth opened as if to say something but Mogul didn't wait for an answer, cutting any inspiration short.
"I am Mogul Velaio. Newly-elect Commander of the Coalition Of Itan. I demand immediate diplomat immunity and a direct connection to galactic relays." he said.
"This doesn't feel like Latos... are we back in TPG headquarters? Mogul asked.
- I will let your friend explain that a bit later. He has entrusted you to me. You could say I am responsible for your well-being until he returns and any trust he has in me was well-earned.
- Friend? What friend? I was alone in the prototype. It's a one-seater."
Like a cold shower, Mogul gasped at the thought of the TPG Raptor prototype ship. "Where's the prototype?" he asked. But the Serco doctor only looked amused. Or perhaps surprised at the question. Mogul though perhaps this Serco was not in the loop. Not a confident of the TPG test pilot program. He probably didn't know what the Raptor was.
Mogul began thinking about his last few moments, slightly disoriented. Through the room windows, he didn't immediately recognize the star system. That is, until he saw a huge ship warp in. It was the Nemesis! A Serco capital ship entering UIT space? That was unheard of. And that's when the stars ligned up in Mogul's head. He was in Serco space, not UIT.
Then the events came back to him. Like a video diary being played back in his mind. Mogul had just taken the TPG Raptor prototype out for a spin when, in Latos, he ended up face to face with a Serco convoy.
The NSI! Yes! He had just seen it, floating in space waiting for him to pick it up when he vaporised the Serco transport. And as he approached it, in total disbelief, the transport's escort jumped in the sector. The transport had jumped ahead of it's escort to find itself miraculously in the hands of the newly elected ITAN commander.
Mogul remembered the battle. The TPG Raptor prototype he was testing for the Propeller Group handled marvelously compared to previous prototype. But it had weak armour. Then... everything gets fuzzy. Mogul had a hard time remembering past this battle.
He must have lost that battle he thought. With the Raptor's previous failed prototype escape pods, he must have gotten captured he thought. A miracle he didn't die in the incident as other test pilots before him. The ship's explosion might have been the cause of him being in this hospital.
That was the answer to his question. He was now captive of the Serco. And they probably scooped up both the NSI and Raptor prototype. Now everyone in Serco space would know that TPG is using ITAN for testing their new ship. And as a bonus, they had him in captivity!
"Where am I? Mogul asked. This is Serco space! It has to be! Who brought me here?" Mogul started being agitated but bed restraints made him realize that not only sedatives were keeping him nice and tidy.
"Your friend Sarken will return in a few hours. Be patient and... try to relax" said the doctor as he walked out, closing the door behind him.
"I am Mogul Velaio!" he screamed. "I demand both Immunity and direct contact with my people!" he added, in vain.
Hours passed.
Mogul had tried to relax until the door re-opened, time through wich he tried to remember who that Sarken "friend" was. The only Sarken he knew was certainly no friend. Borb Sarken. Second to bare that name. Mogul had read plenty reports of his murderous rampages before.
Mogul looked carefully at the person in the door. He tried to remember his face but... this one was new to him. He had never seen this man... this Serco... before. The tall Serco sat on the bed where Mogul was restrained and smiled at him.
"And who the hell are you?" Mogul asked.
The Serco raised an eyebrow and his mouth opened as if to say something but Mogul didn't wait for an answer, cutting any inspiration short.
"I am Mogul Velaio. Newly-elect Commander of the Coalition Of Itan. I demand immediate diplomat immunity and a direct connection to galactic relays." he said.
As a test, LeberMac cracked one eye open. Seeing nothing immediately dangerous, he opened the other one as confirmation. Yep. He was staring at the ceiling. He decided to get up, and struggled to find his feet under him amongst the rubble.
He was alone in the room, the last thing he remembered was Smittens throwing something at him, and then feeling the impact of what must have been the floor as he was knocked out. Smittens must have left him here. The loss of blood and the flash-bang impacts had just been too much. He needed to get to a doctor, or at least an auto-doc. "There must be one in this station, somewhere." he thought.
An alert messsage announced throughout level 28: "Warning. Hull Decompression detected. Evacuate this level immediately. Repeat. Evacuate this level immediately. Emergency bulkhead seals will close in 60 seconds."
In his groggy state LeberMac felt the nice breeze blowing past his face, headed towards the closed door of the room. Odd. He regarded the door with renewed interest and it began to dawn on him that on the other side of the door was the room without a window, a nice "open" view of the stars, so to speak. The straining metal noises and the outward bulge of the room portal door indicated that he didn't have much time, these doors weren't built to withstand the atmospheric pressure of the station and were not airlock-rated.
He saw the opening to the hallway that Borb and come through, and bolted for it as another announcement blared across the 28th level of the station: "Catastrophic decompression detected. Emergency bulkhead seals closing in 30 seconds."
LeberMac limped as fast as he could down the hallway, lit by emergency lights, to the Jeffries tube station access tunnel that led to the lobby. The breeze in his face was becoming rather gusty, which impeded his progress almost as much as his battered body. Twenty Eight... Twenty Seven...
He made it to the tube only to find the access hatch partially closed, hydraulic fluid leaking. He pulled on it, but with his shattered wrist he had only one good arm, and had neither the strength or the leverage necessary to force the hatch open enough for him to get through. Sadly, he was just too big to fit through the opening with the hatch halfway closed. He needed something for leverage...Tewnty Two... Twenty One...
The table leg!
LeberMac made his way back down the hallway with the wind at his back, urgently pushing him towards the room. He held onto the roughly-hewn entrance created by Borb's explosives and visually scanned the room for the table leg. There! Nineteen... Eighteen...
He lunged for the leg, scrabbled for it, finally grasped it and then turned to make his way back down the hallway when a loud clang behind him made him look. The door had buckled and air was escaping through the open doorjamb seam into the void with alacrity. He faced into the rushing wind, now at almost hurricane strength, and fought his way back down the hallway to the Jefferies tube entrance. Twelve... Eleven...
Making it to the hatch, he slammed the table leg into the gap and pulled with all his weight on his table leg improvised lever. The hatch moved about a half an inch. Nine... Eight...
The sound of rushing air sounded like a freight train and it became hard to breathe. The atmospheric compensators kicked on in vain, attempting to keep the 28th level of the Corvus station within atmospheric tolerances, but the precious oxygen was sucked out into the void almost as quickly as it was pumped in. LeberMac struggled with his hatch and it moved another inch or so. Five... Four...
The atmospheric compensators overheated and the rush of air stopped. New alarm klaxons sounded and LeberMac's lungs ached, feeling like they would burst soon, even though they were empty of air. He felt lightneaded and gave one last desperate pull on the table leg. Two... One...
The hatch popped open and hydraulic fluid splashed all over him and the hallway. LeberMac would have yelped for joy, but the atmospheric levels in the hallway had dropped to near-fatal ppm. Instinctively, he dove into the opening but caught his left boot on the flange of the access tube. Zero.
The containment fields went up immediately and neatly severed LeberMac's left foot from the rest of his leg. Seals Closing. This level is now access-restricted.
He screamed in pain and slid down the Jeffries tube to the lower lobby level, leaving a trail of blood and anguish. Having just enough presence of mind to pull out his remaining blaster pistol sidearm, he hit the bottom of the Jeffries tube awkwardly, landing upside down on his clavicle, which snapped like a chicken bone.
His scream of pain shocked the Concierge, who was still inexplicably at his post in the lobby. "Gahhhhhhh!", the concierge screamed as he saw the human-like creature rise from the tube entrance, dripping with blood and hydraulic fluid, bruises everywhere, armed with a blaster pistol, hopping on one foot and clutching his shoulder with a hand that had bones protruding from the wrist.
The concierge, unfamiliar with this kind of behavior, sprinted towards the stardock, screaming hysterically.
"No! Wait!" LeberMac yelled, "I need.. help..." He followed the fleeing man as best as he could by hopping down to the docking bay entrance. He was about to call out to the concierge again, but was surprised by the sound of large-caliber automatic weapons fire coming from the docking bay. The dead body of the concierge was blown back into view by the force of the large caliber turret. It lay dead on the fashionable lobby carpet, perforated by .50 caliber projectile shells.
LeberMac, running solely on adrenaline by this point, managed to slam himself up against the nearerst wall and take a peek around the corner into the docking bay. Some maniac was sitting in the defense turret, grinning like he just won the lottery or something. In the docking bay were the remains of three ships and some storage crates, nothing else besides the guardian grinning in his gun-mount.
The EC-89 'Loaner" bus section of the dock was full as usual, although Leber was sure that he'd never catch ANYONE in those things. He had to get back to Itani space and find Lecter, who would lead him to the Neural Spike Mk. II. Then he'd have to find Borb, who would lead him to Mogul. Then he'd have to find Smittens and seriously kick his ass for leaving him for dead in that room. But before any of that could happen, he'd have to get past this chucklehead in the turret before he bled to death.
Some of the debris on the ground from the destroyed Valkyries was still sparking and smoking. Somewhat near the turret was a half-damaged Ultra-Charge battery - those things went off like fireworks when you shot 'em. A plan formed in his mind, and LeberMac leaned around the corner, took careful aim at the battery, lined up his shot with his good hand, and squeezed off a round.
He missed.
The crazy bastard in the turret opened up on his position with a vengeance, sending shells clean through the wall structure, exploding around his head, creating a shower of metallic chunks, shrapnel, wall material and plaster. LeberMac dove into the docking bay and took cover behind one of the crates, nearest to the EC-89 bay. He'd caught some shrapnel in the back, and was now bleeding profusely from 4 separate areas.
"Come out and I'll shoot!" the turret gunner said.
"Isn't it supposed to be 'Come out OR I'll shoot?'", LeberMac growled back.
"Hey buddy, this is a CORVUS station! Ha ha ha!", the gunner replied as he opened up on the storage crate again with the 50-cal, sending chunks of it flying. The floor shook and the crate vibrated with the impacts. LeberMac was pinned down, but not out of ideas.
He took the boot off of his good leg, made his way to one side of the storage crate, and threw the boot off the opposite site as he hopped into the open to catch a decent shot at the turret's occupant.
The gunner tracked to the motion of the boot and squeezed off a few rounds, obliterating the boot before noticing that his target was taking aim on his position from the other side of the storage crate, and he slewed his weapon to the real target, but was too late. LeberMac squeezed off two shots from his blaster pistol.
In the time it took to swivel the weapon, the turret gunner took two hits in the forehead and slumped over the controls, dead, 2 million credstick still sitting in his pocket.
"Yeah!" LeberMac said as he noticed that his weapon had been out of ammo. "What?" he exclaimed... Then who...?
"Booyah!" Smittens said from behind him, "Stole your kill again, bitch! Hahaha!" Smittens held his pulse-rifle in his hands and blew on the barrel. He jumped out from his vantage point behind the lobby's corner and cockily walked past the shell-shocked, bleeding LeberMac, took the 2 mil credstick out of his most recent victim's pocket, and then sauntered back to LeberMac, grinning.
Lebermac stood there on one foot, covered in hydraulic fluid, bleeding profusely. In the last hour, he had suffered a beating at the hands of two cybernetically-enhanced Serco, had his wrist shattered, his nose broken, flashbangs had gone off in his face, he had almost died to decompression, he'd lost his foot to the force-field, broken his clavicle, and been shot at a lot by large-caliber weapons. Now the neatly-dressed, aloof Smittens was in his face, looking on him with disdain.
"Good thing I was there to save your ass, huh?" Smittens said with panache. "I figured you'd be able to make your way out of that room by yourself, so I went to the weapons locker to see what they had left in this station - you believe that they still have these old pulse rifles? These things are great! Almost as great as watching you hop around on one foot all that time. Well, not as great as me, but you know, not many things are..." *UNGHFTTT!*
LeberMac wound up and pistol-whipped his commander as hard as he could, releasing quite a bit of frustration and anger in a well-timed blow. Smittens was unconscious before he hit the floor.
One of his tasks completed, LeberMac hopped over Smittens and finally found an auto-doc. He stepped inside, deposited the credits, and mercifully fell under the warm glow of the Morphine as the nanites rebuilt his shattered body and fashioned a mechanical prosthetic foot for him.
As the morphine buzz coursed through him, he reprioritized. Now to get back to Itani space and begin the search for Lecter and Borb. He was unsure which one he'd have to take care of first. A short time later, the AutoDoc beeped and he stepped out with both feet, almost as good as new. He admired his new foot, which seemed pretty nice for a prosthetic. He needed to test it out on something.
Smittens was waking up. LeberMac walked over and kicked him hard in the head with his prosthetic foot, sending Smittens back into dreamland. Yes, the foot worked rather well.
He walked past the rubble of the station and into a waiting EC-89, and departed the station for Divinia. The search was on again.
He was alone in the room, the last thing he remembered was Smittens throwing something at him, and then feeling the impact of what must have been the floor as he was knocked out. Smittens must have left him here. The loss of blood and the flash-bang impacts had just been too much. He needed to get to a doctor, or at least an auto-doc. "There must be one in this station, somewhere." he thought.
An alert messsage announced throughout level 28: "Warning. Hull Decompression detected. Evacuate this level immediately. Repeat. Evacuate this level immediately. Emergency bulkhead seals will close in 60 seconds."
In his groggy state LeberMac felt the nice breeze blowing past his face, headed towards the closed door of the room. Odd. He regarded the door with renewed interest and it began to dawn on him that on the other side of the door was the room without a window, a nice "open" view of the stars, so to speak. The straining metal noises and the outward bulge of the room portal door indicated that he didn't have much time, these doors weren't built to withstand the atmospheric pressure of the station and were not airlock-rated.
He saw the opening to the hallway that Borb and come through, and bolted for it as another announcement blared across the 28th level of the station: "Catastrophic decompression detected. Emergency bulkhead seals closing in 30 seconds."
LeberMac limped as fast as he could down the hallway, lit by emergency lights, to the Jeffries tube station access tunnel that led to the lobby. The breeze in his face was becoming rather gusty, which impeded his progress almost as much as his battered body. Twenty Eight... Twenty Seven...
He made it to the tube only to find the access hatch partially closed, hydraulic fluid leaking. He pulled on it, but with his shattered wrist he had only one good arm, and had neither the strength or the leverage necessary to force the hatch open enough for him to get through. Sadly, he was just too big to fit through the opening with the hatch halfway closed. He needed something for leverage...Tewnty Two... Twenty One...
The table leg!
LeberMac made his way back down the hallway with the wind at his back, urgently pushing him towards the room. He held onto the roughly-hewn entrance created by Borb's explosives and visually scanned the room for the table leg. There! Nineteen... Eighteen...
He lunged for the leg, scrabbled for it, finally grasped it and then turned to make his way back down the hallway when a loud clang behind him made him look. The door had buckled and air was escaping through the open doorjamb seam into the void with alacrity. He faced into the rushing wind, now at almost hurricane strength, and fought his way back down the hallway to the Jefferies tube entrance. Twelve... Eleven...
Making it to the hatch, he slammed the table leg into the gap and pulled with all his weight on his table leg improvised lever. The hatch moved about a half an inch. Nine... Eight...
The sound of rushing air sounded like a freight train and it became hard to breathe. The atmospheric compensators kicked on in vain, attempting to keep the 28th level of the Corvus station within atmospheric tolerances, but the precious oxygen was sucked out into the void almost as quickly as it was pumped in. LeberMac struggled with his hatch and it moved another inch or so. Five... Four...
The atmospheric compensators overheated and the rush of air stopped. New alarm klaxons sounded and LeberMac's lungs ached, feeling like they would burst soon, even though they were empty of air. He felt lightneaded and gave one last desperate pull on the table leg. Two... One...
The hatch popped open and hydraulic fluid splashed all over him and the hallway. LeberMac would have yelped for joy, but the atmospheric levels in the hallway had dropped to near-fatal ppm. Instinctively, he dove into the opening but caught his left boot on the flange of the access tube. Zero.
The containment fields went up immediately and neatly severed LeberMac's left foot from the rest of his leg. Seals Closing. This level is now access-restricted.
He screamed in pain and slid down the Jeffries tube to the lower lobby level, leaving a trail of blood and anguish. Having just enough presence of mind to pull out his remaining blaster pistol sidearm, he hit the bottom of the Jeffries tube awkwardly, landing upside down on his clavicle, which snapped like a chicken bone.
His scream of pain shocked the Concierge, who was still inexplicably at his post in the lobby. "Gahhhhhhh!", the concierge screamed as he saw the human-like creature rise from the tube entrance, dripping with blood and hydraulic fluid, bruises everywhere, armed with a blaster pistol, hopping on one foot and clutching his shoulder with a hand that had bones protruding from the wrist.
The concierge, unfamiliar with this kind of behavior, sprinted towards the stardock, screaming hysterically.
"No! Wait!" LeberMac yelled, "I need.. help..." He followed the fleeing man as best as he could by hopping down to the docking bay entrance. He was about to call out to the concierge again, but was surprised by the sound of large-caliber automatic weapons fire coming from the docking bay. The dead body of the concierge was blown back into view by the force of the large caliber turret. It lay dead on the fashionable lobby carpet, perforated by .50 caliber projectile shells.
LeberMac, running solely on adrenaline by this point, managed to slam himself up against the nearerst wall and take a peek around the corner into the docking bay. Some maniac was sitting in the defense turret, grinning like he just won the lottery or something. In the docking bay were the remains of three ships and some storage crates, nothing else besides the guardian grinning in his gun-mount.
The EC-89 'Loaner" bus section of the dock was full as usual, although Leber was sure that he'd never catch ANYONE in those things. He had to get back to Itani space and find Lecter, who would lead him to the Neural Spike Mk. II. Then he'd have to find Borb, who would lead him to Mogul. Then he'd have to find Smittens and seriously kick his ass for leaving him for dead in that room. But before any of that could happen, he'd have to get past this chucklehead in the turret before he bled to death.
Some of the debris on the ground from the destroyed Valkyries was still sparking and smoking. Somewhat near the turret was a half-damaged Ultra-Charge battery - those things went off like fireworks when you shot 'em. A plan formed in his mind, and LeberMac leaned around the corner, took careful aim at the battery, lined up his shot with his good hand, and squeezed off a round.
He missed.
The crazy bastard in the turret opened up on his position with a vengeance, sending shells clean through the wall structure, exploding around his head, creating a shower of metallic chunks, shrapnel, wall material and plaster. LeberMac dove into the docking bay and took cover behind one of the crates, nearest to the EC-89 bay. He'd caught some shrapnel in the back, and was now bleeding profusely from 4 separate areas.
"Come out and I'll shoot!" the turret gunner said.
"Isn't it supposed to be 'Come out OR I'll shoot?'", LeberMac growled back.
"Hey buddy, this is a CORVUS station! Ha ha ha!", the gunner replied as he opened up on the storage crate again with the 50-cal, sending chunks of it flying. The floor shook and the crate vibrated with the impacts. LeberMac was pinned down, but not out of ideas.
He took the boot off of his good leg, made his way to one side of the storage crate, and threw the boot off the opposite site as he hopped into the open to catch a decent shot at the turret's occupant.
The gunner tracked to the motion of the boot and squeezed off a few rounds, obliterating the boot before noticing that his target was taking aim on his position from the other side of the storage crate, and he slewed his weapon to the real target, but was too late. LeberMac squeezed off two shots from his blaster pistol.
In the time it took to swivel the weapon, the turret gunner took two hits in the forehead and slumped over the controls, dead, 2 million credstick still sitting in his pocket.
"Yeah!" LeberMac said as he noticed that his weapon had been out of ammo. "What?" he exclaimed... Then who...?
"Booyah!" Smittens said from behind him, "Stole your kill again, bitch! Hahaha!" Smittens held his pulse-rifle in his hands and blew on the barrel. He jumped out from his vantage point behind the lobby's corner and cockily walked past the shell-shocked, bleeding LeberMac, took the 2 mil credstick out of his most recent victim's pocket, and then sauntered back to LeberMac, grinning.
Lebermac stood there on one foot, covered in hydraulic fluid, bleeding profusely. In the last hour, he had suffered a beating at the hands of two cybernetically-enhanced Serco, had his wrist shattered, his nose broken, flashbangs had gone off in his face, he had almost died to decompression, he'd lost his foot to the force-field, broken his clavicle, and been shot at a lot by large-caliber weapons. Now the neatly-dressed, aloof Smittens was in his face, looking on him with disdain.
"Good thing I was there to save your ass, huh?" Smittens said with panache. "I figured you'd be able to make your way out of that room by yourself, so I went to the weapons locker to see what they had left in this station - you believe that they still have these old pulse rifles? These things are great! Almost as great as watching you hop around on one foot all that time. Well, not as great as me, but you know, not many things are..." *UNGHFTTT!*
LeberMac wound up and pistol-whipped his commander as hard as he could, releasing quite a bit of frustration and anger in a well-timed blow. Smittens was unconscious before he hit the floor.
One of his tasks completed, LeberMac hopped over Smittens and finally found an auto-doc. He stepped inside, deposited the credits, and mercifully fell under the warm glow of the Morphine as the nanites rebuilt his shattered body and fashioned a mechanical prosthetic foot for him.
As the morphine buzz coursed through him, he reprioritized. Now to get back to Itani space and begin the search for Lecter and Borb. He was unsure which one he'd have to take care of first. A short time later, the AutoDoc beeped and he stepped out with both feet, almost as good as new. He admired his new foot, which seemed pretty nice for a prosthetic. He needed to test it out on something.
Smittens was waking up. LeberMac walked over and kicked him hard in the head with his prosthetic foot, sending Smittens back into dreamland. Yes, the foot worked rather well.
He walked past the rubble of the station and into a waiting EC-89, and departed the station for Divinia. The search was on again.
On the other side of space, I knew and cared little about Leber's plight, for I was much to busy laughing at Mogul.
"Hahahahahaha! I thought you said he was fine doc!"
Doc walked into the room pulled me aside and assured me Mogul was 100% well, but seemed to be suffering from some form of memory loss as far as he could tell.
"Mogul... I don't really know how to say this so I'm just going to say it, your a wanted fugitive in not only your own nation but my nation and the UiT nation." I paused for a short second to watch his face, he was very clearly confused most likely trying to figure out what scam I was trying to pull. "Mogul, 6 hours ago I drug your messed up body out of the middle of a fire fight between you Leber and Smittens after from what I can tell you had dealings with Dr. Lecter who by the way has defected to the Itani nation or so they say."
"No. No. No no no no no..." He kept mumbling over and over again, I decided to press on ignoring him.
"Yes, you have little to no money to your name, you where found in a Corvus station in gray space where it is believed you have been aiding the Corvus faction for days, you some how command a guild with the tag [NUTS] your guild wants you dead, the Serco want you dead and the UiT most likely just want you to stay out of their space. I'm all you have, I saved you, I helped you regain some sanity, oh yeah that's another thing, your no longer a pure Itani either. The pressure from the shrapnel in your head popped the blood vessels in your eye balls rendering you blind, the Doc had to give you optical implants as well as implants to fix the parts of your brain that we're destroyed by the shrapnel."
"NO!"
I stood up and said "fine you don't believe me, I'll prove it." Then I walked off to retrieve a holo projector, walking back into the room I found Mogul standing up with a Scalpel in his hand. "Sit down and shut up, even if you manage to kill me you've got no place to go, the Strike Forces and station guards would kill you before you even got too a worm hole." I said matter of factly, indigent people grated on me and wore at the little patience I have. He looked at me as I turned on the holo projector.
"Information is power, you should at least find out what's going on before you do any thing." I said before turning my back to him and starting up the projector.
I lost track of time as news feed after news feed played on the projector, then I switched over to data, security feeds, and after action reports until I had played out every last shred of proof I had. Turning to look at him for the first time in hours I said. "So you see, you are nothing, every thing you've ever known or loved is gone. Your guild hates you, your friends want you dead, and your enemies are hunting you."
He looked deflated and old as he said slowly, "why?"
I was taken off guard by the question.
"Why what?"
"Why are you here, why help me?"
I exhaled slowly before answering. "Why not, you think just because I do very little with out personal gain that I can't still be capable of helping some one for the sole sake of helping some one?" He looked less then convinced.
"Look, look at my hands, these hands have kill more people then the average person knows in their life time, look at these eyes, these eyes have seen more horrors then Akan could have ever thought of. Look at this my beautiful house that many would kill to have, a free gift for my services in the war! Look at my bare walls! No family pictures, no pictures of me and my friends! Look look at my body! How many times have I had to come to doc and ask him to fix yet another problem in my trashed body! And what have I gained! Money, power, fame? Yes, but also hate, hit men, enemies, distrust, and no peace..."
I was now shouting and standing gesturing wildly with my hands. I could slowly feel my self coming unglued, some thing that had no happened sense I left my family 10 years ago and started all this mess. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm my self.
"I just want peace Mogul, I want to be able to do some thing worth while with my life, I don't want infamy... I just want peace..."
As I let my voice trail off Mogul stood dropping the scalpel as he did, I looked at him hard in the eye slowly clenching my jaw to hold back any emotion. He set his hand on my shoulder and nodded.
"Hahahahahaha! I thought you said he was fine doc!"
Doc walked into the room pulled me aside and assured me Mogul was 100% well, but seemed to be suffering from some form of memory loss as far as he could tell.
"Mogul... I don't really know how to say this so I'm just going to say it, your a wanted fugitive in not only your own nation but my nation and the UiT nation." I paused for a short second to watch his face, he was very clearly confused most likely trying to figure out what scam I was trying to pull. "Mogul, 6 hours ago I drug your messed up body out of the middle of a fire fight between you Leber and Smittens after from what I can tell you had dealings with Dr. Lecter who by the way has defected to the Itani nation or so they say."
"No. No. No no no no no..." He kept mumbling over and over again, I decided to press on ignoring him.
"Yes, you have little to no money to your name, you where found in a Corvus station in gray space where it is believed you have been aiding the Corvus faction for days, you some how command a guild with the tag [NUTS] your guild wants you dead, the Serco want you dead and the UiT most likely just want you to stay out of their space. I'm all you have, I saved you, I helped you regain some sanity, oh yeah that's another thing, your no longer a pure Itani either. The pressure from the shrapnel in your head popped the blood vessels in your eye balls rendering you blind, the Doc had to give you optical implants as well as implants to fix the parts of your brain that we're destroyed by the shrapnel."
"NO!"
I stood up and said "fine you don't believe me, I'll prove it." Then I walked off to retrieve a holo projector, walking back into the room I found Mogul standing up with a Scalpel in his hand. "Sit down and shut up, even if you manage to kill me you've got no place to go, the Strike Forces and station guards would kill you before you even got too a worm hole." I said matter of factly, indigent people grated on me and wore at the little patience I have. He looked at me as I turned on the holo projector.
"Information is power, you should at least find out what's going on before you do any thing." I said before turning my back to him and starting up the projector.
I lost track of time as news feed after news feed played on the projector, then I switched over to data, security feeds, and after action reports until I had played out every last shred of proof I had. Turning to look at him for the first time in hours I said. "So you see, you are nothing, every thing you've ever known or loved is gone. Your guild hates you, your friends want you dead, and your enemies are hunting you."
He looked deflated and old as he said slowly, "why?"
I was taken off guard by the question.
"Why what?"
"Why are you here, why help me?"
I exhaled slowly before answering. "Why not, you think just because I do very little with out personal gain that I can't still be capable of helping some one for the sole sake of helping some one?" He looked less then convinced.
"Look, look at my hands, these hands have kill more people then the average person knows in their life time, look at these eyes, these eyes have seen more horrors then Akan could have ever thought of. Look at this my beautiful house that many would kill to have, a free gift for my services in the war! Look at my bare walls! No family pictures, no pictures of me and my friends! Look look at my body! How many times have I had to come to doc and ask him to fix yet another problem in my trashed body! And what have I gained! Money, power, fame? Yes, but also hate, hit men, enemies, distrust, and no peace..."
I was now shouting and standing gesturing wildly with my hands. I could slowly feel my self coming unglued, some thing that had no happened sense I left my family 10 years ago and started all this mess. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm my self.
"I just want peace Mogul, I want to be able to do some thing worth while with my life, I don't want infamy... I just want peace..."
As I let my voice trail off Mogul stood dropping the scalpel as he did, I looked at him hard in the eye slowly clenching my jaw to hold back any emotion. He set his hand on my shoulder and nodded.
[OOC: parental advisory: course language]
Yes. Oh yes, Mogul nodded. Looking straight in his eyes, Mogul understood exactly what he was saying. A hand on his shoulder, he could see the the distress in his eyes.
How pathetic that was to think he could fool Mogul! His fingers curled up in both hands, one firmly grabbing his jacket, the other hurled toward his stomach.
*Hrmff!*
"Eh mon cul! C'est du poulet?" he yelled in some cryptic pre-galactic dialect.
Mogul knew full well the Serco could break his neck easily so backed off and started looking around the room for something to defend himself with. The only things in the room were no match for a hand to hand combat. The scalpel was too small. Mogul stared at the table for a second... if only he could... no, that was too ridiculous an idea.
Obviously furious, Mogul continued yelling in his dialect "Ne ment pas espèce de poubelle ambulante!" and then realized that if he wanted to have impact, he better be understood.
"Dont lie to me filthy bastard! I know full well what you're up to! You want to enslave me with the NSI! I know you Serco have it! Ahahaha! The joke is on you! My brother Lesgul is right here in Serco space, infiltrating your facilities, to recuperate the NSI! We know it's being transported!" Mogul said in rapid succession.
Mogul looked very angry but at the same time, the Serco realized Mogul didn't believe his own words. Distress made him talk. He was panic-struck.
Borb stood there, surprised still at the stomach jab he had just been served.
"I was expecting a thank you or something more pleasant, given the trouble I'm going through to save your butt. At my expense. What more can I say? Sure we could fake all these records. But see them for yourself. These are live new feeds. Go on, check them yourself. Use your nation transponder key to access your nation-specific news. Watch the dates carefully and backtrack a couple of months" Borb said, pointing at the projector controls.
Mogul didn't move. He didn't have to. He had watched carefully at the dates and transponder feeds on the projector. He knew full well the content could not have been tampered with.
Mogul just stood there for what seemed like elongated seconds and eventually poked his eyes. "These are implants?" he asked.
The Doctor nodded.
Mogul approached the projector and entered his Itani transponder code, then started reviewing personal logs, news feeds, everything relating to the NSI recovery operations. The first, failed, one, and the second operation wich ended in fiasco and the death of his brother. The capture of Lecter. The trial. The prisoner transfer. The evidence. There was no denying that one. It was linked to his personal transponder encoder.
Mogul tried to keep a cool head and just analyse things. Just about when the Doctor and Borb were becoming impatient, Mogul turned around and rhetorically asked "I did all that? Strange. I dont remember any of this. This doesn't sound like me. I would have not done any of this.
- That piece of shrapnel you had in your head... it had been there for a while. It looks like a piece of canopy. My guess is it might have affected your judgment" the Doctor said.
Mogul felt the back of his head. The bandages made it pointless but the gesture was an automatic physical response to his working thoughts.
Mogul looked at Borb in the eyes and asked "What does that make you? A traitor? A samaritain?"
Borb raised his shoulder and added "Makes no difference. The Great Lady Serco wants me dead. And you too. And Lector too. We're all in the same basket.
- So, am I a captive? Or in exile? Maybe if I just surrender and go on trial. Maybe I can get exonerated? They'll see I was sick. Why didn't anyone see that?
- You were loved as a commander Mogul. As far as I can tell, you had a cult following. Even recently, some have vowed their allegiance to you. They were ready to follow you in whatever path you were taking them. That's why they're so pissed at you. LeberMac the most.
- Yeah... I have to reach Shadow Man..." Mogul muttered.
Mogul stoped thinking for a moment and looked away from Borb. "You do realize we can't be friends, right? As soon as things return to normal, we'll end up pointing guns at each other. By necessity. That war, weither we want it to or not... it may never end... until the wormholes collaps."
Until the wormholes collaps reverberated in Mogul's head like a revelation. "Now there's a thought..." Mogul muttered.
Yes. Oh yes, Mogul nodded. Looking straight in his eyes, Mogul understood exactly what he was saying. A hand on his shoulder, he could see the the distress in his eyes.
How pathetic that was to think he could fool Mogul! His fingers curled up in both hands, one firmly grabbing his jacket, the other hurled toward his stomach.
*Hrmff!*
"Eh mon cul! C'est du poulet?" he yelled in some cryptic pre-galactic dialect.
Mogul knew full well the Serco could break his neck easily so backed off and started looking around the room for something to defend himself with. The only things in the room were no match for a hand to hand combat. The scalpel was too small. Mogul stared at the table for a second... if only he could... no, that was too ridiculous an idea.
Obviously furious, Mogul continued yelling in his dialect "Ne ment pas espèce de poubelle ambulante!" and then realized that if he wanted to have impact, he better be understood.
"Dont lie to me filthy bastard! I know full well what you're up to! You want to enslave me with the NSI! I know you Serco have it! Ahahaha! The joke is on you! My brother Lesgul is right here in Serco space, infiltrating your facilities, to recuperate the NSI! We know it's being transported!" Mogul said in rapid succession.
Mogul looked very angry but at the same time, the Serco realized Mogul didn't believe his own words. Distress made him talk. He was panic-struck.
Borb stood there, surprised still at the stomach jab he had just been served.
"I was expecting a thank you or something more pleasant, given the trouble I'm going through to save your butt. At my expense. What more can I say? Sure we could fake all these records. But see them for yourself. These are live new feeds. Go on, check them yourself. Use your nation transponder key to access your nation-specific news. Watch the dates carefully and backtrack a couple of months" Borb said, pointing at the projector controls.
Mogul didn't move. He didn't have to. He had watched carefully at the dates and transponder feeds on the projector. He knew full well the content could not have been tampered with.
Mogul just stood there for what seemed like elongated seconds and eventually poked his eyes. "These are implants?" he asked.
The Doctor nodded.
Mogul approached the projector and entered his Itani transponder code, then started reviewing personal logs, news feeds, everything relating to the NSI recovery operations. The first, failed, one, and the second operation wich ended in fiasco and the death of his brother. The capture of Lecter. The trial. The prisoner transfer. The evidence. There was no denying that one. It was linked to his personal transponder encoder.
Mogul tried to keep a cool head and just analyse things. Just about when the Doctor and Borb were becoming impatient, Mogul turned around and rhetorically asked "I did all that? Strange. I dont remember any of this. This doesn't sound like me. I would have not done any of this.
- That piece of shrapnel you had in your head... it had been there for a while. It looks like a piece of canopy. My guess is it might have affected your judgment" the Doctor said.
Mogul felt the back of his head. The bandages made it pointless but the gesture was an automatic physical response to his working thoughts.
Mogul looked at Borb in the eyes and asked "What does that make you? A traitor? A samaritain?"
Borb raised his shoulder and added "Makes no difference. The Great Lady Serco wants me dead. And you too. And Lector too. We're all in the same basket.
- So, am I a captive? Or in exile? Maybe if I just surrender and go on trial. Maybe I can get exonerated? They'll see I was sick. Why didn't anyone see that?
- You were loved as a commander Mogul. As far as I can tell, you had a cult following. Even recently, some have vowed their allegiance to you. They were ready to follow you in whatever path you were taking them. That's why they're so pissed at you. LeberMac the most.
- Yeah... I have to reach Shadow Man..." Mogul muttered.
Mogul stoped thinking for a moment and looked away from Borb. "You do realize we can't be friends, right? As soon as things return to normal, we'll end up pointing guns at each other. By necessity. That war, weither we want it to or not... it may never end... until the wormholes collaps."
Until the wormholes collaps reverberated in Mogul's head like a revelation. "Now there's a thought..." Mogul muttered.
I'll admit I could feel my self getting upset as he hit me, here I was risking allot to help him and he was hitting me. I could imagine my self quickly throwing a blow to his face, it would come from my dominant left hand, I would pivot off the balls of my left foot, driving my power from the ground, working my whole body into the one punch I would torque my hips as the power traveled upwards, my stomach would twist as the muscles tightened adding more power to the strike as it traveled. Finally my broad shoulders would propel my hand to it's target, the bridge of his nose. I could almost believe I was feeling joy wash over me as his whole face collapsed around my still moving fist, as his bone fragments tore into my flesh while he feel back, and then as his head awkwardly came off my fist and he feel to the floor dead in a crimson red pool of his own blood.
How ever I've found I seem to have a small capacity for expressing my emotions and I had already filled my allotment for the day, so instead I took the blow and watched as he ranted and raved. What could do to me any way. One blow was all I needed, he would need more then his bare hands or any thing else he could find in the room to even come close to putting me down much less killing me. I thought back to an old saying my Mother used to tell me long ago, she would say, "Son humility is not weakness, but controlled strength, I want you to be humble."
Mogul interrupted my thoughts with more questions, why why why. I could understand his frustrations, in away I had been there before, though I thought I was a man named Corbin Armond, not Borb Sarken, but the similarities parallel one another. I knew some what how he felt and it helped keep me from killing him, in away I also think it may have been one of the reasons I picked him up in the first place...
"Who says we can't be friends? Who makes all these rules? What them? The system, the government, our loving nations!? No, bullshit, we make the rules, they only suggest them, we make the rules by following what they tell us. Guess what they want us dead, why? We're loyal, we've never done any thing wrong? We're law abiding for the most, every thing we've done was to help our nations. Why do they want us dead Mogul?"
He was silent, I at least knew I had his attention, I think. I knew he was confused and most likely processing tons of information, regardless he still needed more.
"Mogul, they have no reason to kill us, that's one of their rules, are we still going to follow their rules? Well are we? I'm not, I stopped along time ago, I follow my own rules, I'm not a traitor, I'm not a Serco, and I'm not Samaritan.
I'm Borb Sarken The Second, and I do my own thing with what little moral reason I have left."
He still stared at me so I went on with one last thing.
"You are free, I did not capture you, I do not intend to use you for any thing. As a matter of fact I'll make sure my personal docking bay is left open for you and that my Guises provide you escort to the bay, take one of my vintage Nightwings if you want, no one will mess with what looks like one of Borb's personal ships, at least not in Serco space. You can leave and we will forget all of this ever happened, you owe me nothing and this war can wear on until we are both long dead and forgotten.
Or you can screw the rules and we can help one another, as friends. Your call."
I held out the pass key to all my ships in front of his eyes and waited, my cold calculating eyes boring into his own confused and worried eyes, I watched as they turned to steel and I saw he was ready to make the call.
How ever I've found I seem to have a small capacity for expressing my emotions and I had already filled my allotment for the day, so instead I took the blow and watched as he ranted and raved. What could do to me any way. One blow was all I needed, he would need more then his bare hands or any thing else he could find in the room to even come close to putting me down much less killing me. I thought back to an old saying my Mother used to tell me long ago, she would say, "Son humility is not weakness, but controlled strength, I want you to be humble."
Mogul interrupted my thoughts with more questions, why why why. I could understand his frustrations, in away I had been there before, though I thought I was a man named Corbin Armond, not Borb Sarken, but the similarities parallel one another. I knew some what how he felt and it helped keep me from killing him, in away I also think it may have been one of the reasons I picked him up in the first place...
"Who says we can't be friends? Who makes all these rules? What them? The system, the government, our loving nations!? No, bullshit, we make the rules, they only suggest them, we make the rules by following what they tell us. Guess what they want us dead, why? We're loyal, we've never done any thing wrong? We're law abiding for the most, every thing we've done was to help our nations. Why do they want us dead Mogul?"
He was silent, I at least knew I had his attention, I think. I knew he was confused and most likely processing tons of information, regardless he still needed more.
"Mogul, they have no reason to kill us, that's one of their rules, are we still going to follow their rules? Well are we? I'm not, I stopped along time ago, I follow my own rules, I'm not a traitor, I'm not a Serco, and I'm not Samaritan.
I'm Borb Sarken The Second, and I do my own thing with what little moral reason I have left."
He still stared at me so I went on with one last thing.
"You are free, I did not capture you, I do not intend to use you for any thing. As a matter of fact I'll make sure my personal docking bay is left open for you and that my Guises provide you escort to the bay, take one of my vintage Nightwings if you want, no one will mess with what looks like one of Borb's personal ships, at least not in Serco space. You can leave and we will forget all of this ever happened, you owe me nothing and this war can wear on until we are both long dead and forgotten.
Or you can screw the rules and we can help one another, as friends. Your call."
I held out the pass key to all my ships in front of his eyes and waited, my cold calculating eyes boring into his own confused and worried eyes, I watched as they turned to steel and I saw he was ready to make the call.
Mogul closed his eyes and mumbled to himself, something so faint it was inaudible.
He seemed to be debating something, deep inside himself.
"Doc, I thought you had fixed him?" said Borb.
- Yes, he's fine... he's just, well, Mogul? asked the Doctor.
- No. I'm fine. And still alone in my head, Mogul said. Borb... are you really sincere? I mean, about wanting peace?
- Yes Mogul. I'm tired of running around. I've had my share, Borb replied.
- What if... what if I told you I could sever the bridge?
- What do you mean?
- Itanis and Sercos. I think I can isolate them. We'd have peace. Each on our side of the galaxy.
- You know bloddy well border patrols can't close the frontier.
- No. I mean, I can blow up the bridge. or at least, I think I can. I can blow up a wormhole. At least one. Maybe more. We'll see.
- How do you plan to do that?
- Imagine mothloads of Samoflange. If you can disperse it quickly enough, the gravitation field generated would wobble a wormhole. Perhaps closing it for good, said Mogul.
Borb looked at Mogul for a while and, not too sure if he was still nuts or simply delirious, added "not even a capital ship could produce such an explosion. Have you done the math?
- Remember the old wars? Those of our founding fathers? The big bore, Borb. I'm talking about the big bore.
- The what?
- The Avalon torpedo. The one that got banned when our societies decided they were too big of a weapon to use in the current political context.
- There hasn't been an Avalon in ages, Mogul. And as far as I know, no one has ever been able to construct one since.
- Borb, ITAN has a long history, you know?
- Yada yada yada. Everyone knows about the old Itani Alliance and IDF merging. But the Avalon predates both IA and IDF, Mogul.
- Borb... the Itani Defense Force... IDF is the direct descendant of our predecessor, the Itani Nation Military. INM did have Avalon torpedos.
- So? YOU dont.
- I was commander of ITAN long enough to have dug up a lot of paperwork and secret files. INM still has weapons caches. Old ones. I've personally inventoried them.
- You're not meaning to tell me..." muttered Borb.
Mogul got up to Borb, close enough for a jab. But that wasn't his intention, this time. His face approached the Serco's and then, Mogul whispered "I know where to find one."
He seemed to be debating something, deep inside himself.
"Doc, I thought you had fixed him?" said Borb.
- Yes, he's fine... he's just, well, Mogul? asked the Doctor.
- No. I'm fine. And still alone in my head, Mogul said. Borb... are you really sincere? I mean, about wanting peace?
- Yes Mogul. I'm tired of running around. I've had my share, Borb replied.
- What if... what if I told you I could sever the bridge?
- What do you mean?
- Itanis and Sercos. I think I can isolate them. We'd have peace. Each on our side of the galaxy.
- You know bloddy well border patrols can't close the frontier.
- No. I mean, I can blow up the bridge. or at least, I think I can. I can blow up a wormhole. At least one. Maybe more. We'll see.
- How do you plan to do that?
- Imagine mothloads of Samoflange. If you can disperse it quickly enough, the gravitation field generated would wobble a wormhole. Perhaps closing it for good, said Mogul.
Borb looked at Mogul for a while and, not too sure if he was still nuts or simply delirious, added "not even a capital ship could produce such an explosion. Have you done the math?
- Remember the old wars? Those of our founding fathers? The big bore, Borb. I'm talking about the big bore.
- The what?
- The Avalon torpedo. The one that got banned when our societies decided they were too big of a weapon to use in the current political context.
- There hasn't been an Avalon in ages, Mogul. And as far as I know, no one has ever been able to construct one since.
- Borb, ITAN has a long history, you know?
- Yada yada yada. Everyone knows about the old Itani Alliance and IDF merging. But the Avalon predates both IA and IDF, Mogul.
- Borb... the Itani Defense Force... IDF is the direct descendant of our predecessor, the Itani Nation Military. INM did have Avalon torpedos.
- So? YOU dont.
- I was commander of ITAN long enough to have dug up a lot of paperwork and secret files. INM still has weapons caches. Old ones. I've personally inventoried them.
- You're not meaning to tell me..." muttered Borb.
Mogul got up to Borb, close enough for a jab. But that wasn't his intention, this time. His face approached the Serco's and then, Mogul whispered "I know where to find one."
Dr. Lecter cruised through an empty sector of Pelatus, utterly unmarked on the charts. He knew that soon, he would find that which he sought.
And then, then things would get interesting.
And then, then things would get interesting.
"An Avalon?"
I took a step back to gather my thoughts, Avalons were used up till a few years ago, banned due to their destructive power there was also a rumor that they shortened the life of those using them by years as well, regardless they where bad mojo. I had seen one once before, the guy was a privet collector I had used to get some more exotic things from, any way he had an old decommissioned Avalon with out the war head. Being me I always thought it would be cool to use one but there are none around, besides I could do time for using one, and so could Mogul.
"Mogul, you know that these things are illegal right, like if we got caught with one we would never see space again right?"
"Has that ever stopped you... For peace would you do any thing?"
I sighed as I looked him hard in the eyes. "I've got 200 tons of samo so no need to hunt any of that stuff down. Are you sure you can get an Avalon?"
He nodded yes. I sighed again thinking as I did so. "Ok here is a cred chip with my name on it, it's has an almost unlimited cap, it should help you get any thing you should need, my docking bay is down the hall, take what ever you need..." I paused as I reached over and slid back part of the wall in the room and produced two old earth .45s. "These are for any thing money can not buy, with luck you will never need them."
I held the guns out to Mogul waiting for him to respond with any more information before he left.
I took a step back to gather my thoughts, Avalons were used up till a few years ago, banned due to their destructive power there was also a rumor that they shortened the life of those using them by years as well, regardless they where bad mojo. I had seen one once before, the guy was a privet collector I had used to get some more exotic things from, any way he had an old decommissioned Avalon with out the war head. Being me I always thought it would be cool to use one but there are none around, besides I could do time for using one, and so could Mogul.
"Mogul, you know that these things are illegal right, like if we got caught with one we would never see space again right?"
"Has that ever stopped you... For peace would you do any thing?"
I sighed as I looked him hard in the eyes. "I've got 200 tons of samo so no need to hunt any of that stuff down. Are you sure you can get an Avalon?"
He nodded yes. I sighed again thinking as I did so. "Ok here is a cred chip with my name on it, it's has an almost unlimited cap, it should help you get any thing you should need, my docking bay is down the hall, take what ever you need..." I paused as I reached over and slid back part of the wall in the room and produced two old earth .45s. "These are for any thing money can not buy, with luck you will never need them."
I held the guns out to Mogul waiting for him to respond with any more information before he left.
Really nice thread any chance its going to be completed?
Mogul looked at the guns being handed to him by his former enemy. Former enemy! The thought of that alone sent shivers down his spine.
Mogul wasn't sure how he had gotten the idea of using an Avalon for blowing up a wormhole. He hadn't done the math and surely wasn't certain it would work. Maybe it was some stupid idea he got when he was demented. Was he still? The Doctor assured him he was fine now. It was a wacky idea. Out of nowhere. But Mogul had nothing to loose at this point.
He was a pariah anywhere he could go to. Everyone wanted him dead for one reason or another. He had no more direct family to flea to. No friends left. No oasis left but this Serco, crazy enough to agree to being accomplice of the first breach of the anti-Avalon treaty.
As Mogul grabbed the guns, he realized the biggest flaw in his plan. Someone would have to fly the Samo near the wormhole. And another someone would need to fire the Avalon at the bulk carrier.
The pact was signed. Mogul would go steal the Avalon. And Mogul would then drive the Behemoth himself through the wormhole. Borb wouldn't have to know Mogul was in there.
"I'll arrange for the Avalon to be delivered to you, then send you the blast coordinates." Mogul said, as he put the pistols in his jacket.
Mogul could feel a sense of relief at the foreseeable outcome of this.
A colossal fire storm will take him away from these troubles. And perhaps, even, take away one of the wormholes...
Maybe.
Mogul wasn't sure how he had gotten the idea of using an Avalon for blowing up a wormhole. He hadn't done the math and surely wasn't certain it would work. Maybe it was some stupid idea he got when he was demented. Was he still? The Doctor assured him he was fine now. It was a wacky idea. Out of nowhere. But Mogul had nothing to loose at this point.
He was a pariah anywhere he could go to. Everyone wanted him dead for one reason or another. He had no more direct family to flea to. No friends left. No oasis left but this Serco, crazy enough to agree to being accomplice of the first breach of the anti-Avalon treaty.
As Mogul grabbed the guns, he realized the biggest flaw in his plan. Someone would have to fly the Samo near the wormhole. And another someone would need to fire the Avalon at the bulk carrier.
The pact was signed. Mogul would go steal the Avalon. And Mogul would then drive the Behemoth himself through the wormhole. Borb wouldn't have to know Mogul was in there.
"I'll arrange for the Avalon to be delivered to you, then send you the blast coordinates." Mogul said, as he put the pistols in his jacket.
Mogul could feel a sense of relief at the foreseeable outcome of this.
A colossal fire storm will take him away from these troubles. And perhaps, even, take away one of the wormholes...
Maybe.
So he had it.
Three hours. Three hours and all the falsified paperwork required to enter the Itani Nation Military's secret weapons cache was meticulously prepared. Sure, outside the [ITAN] commander and the Galactic Weapon Anti-Proliferation Committee, no one knew of the existence of this weapons cache. All kinds of interesting things were lurking in there. And only because Mogul had personally inspected the site, soon after he became Commander of the Coalition Of Itan, did he knew about the unaccounted-for Avalon sitting in a mis-identified crate.
Three hours and suddenly, Mogul Velaio was Chief Inspector Vaal'Ok Dasmar of the GWAPC. Mogul always had a Forte for handling bureaucrats. And most were easily duped. Except for that new guard at the door. Undoubtedly a recruit, he didn't get fooled that easily by the paperwork. He had never seen printed GWAPC records to begin with and thus became suspicious rather quickly. Mogul thought this one was doing a better job than the previous ones at the various check points Mogul had to go through. The veterans tend to trust paperwork too blindly, in this day and age of electronic document dispersal.
Mogul could imagine Borb's infuriated face. He thought to himself "Gee, I'd be shooting everything in sight myself to see such a big lump of my own cash be given off for a simple guardsman bribe". Five big ones. Five million credits! Mogul was giggling as he continues to write his last public note. Soon, when it was all over, he'd have missed the reactions of that message, for it will have hit the public waves only after his death.
"My last testament!" he thought.
It was a relatively short note but the declassification of all his previous logs, throughout his career and the digging out of these notes, was a tedious task. All in hope that he'd be remembered as a man of conviction. A devoted Itani, for The Cause. And not remembered as a deranged individual that had, through the maze of his madness, set loose one of the worse Itani enemy in recent years. He thought of that deranged individual as someone else, always, for his mind had lost all traces of memory of that period in that surgery to save his life. Sure, all the logs, public records of first-hand accounts of the events, galactic news and his exile proved Borb Sarken right.
What a strange alliance this was. Borb Sarken. previously his arch enemy, was now helping Mogul's new cause: peace at all costs.
The cost was high. The venture had cost Borb Sarken well over 7 millions in bribes of all sort in order for Mogul to put his hand on the last known Avalon torpedo in existence. Or perhaps one of the few, lost and buried in the paperwork of the GAWPC. The last million was given off as a mouth gag for one of them UIT "venture capitalists", all too eager to get his hands on Borb's lent vintage Nightwing. Mogul was now flying an Aggresso. He felt right at home in that ship. How many hulls had he destroyed in that configuration? He himself wouldn't know. That ship was way more maneuverable than the Nightwing's poor engines trying to carry that heavy load that was the Avalon torpedo. Those things are huge! he though. Mogul's cost for peace was higher, though, than Borb. The Serco would survive this blast. But not Mogul. Though, Borb would get chased for a long time for having launched an Avalon. So what? With any luck, the wormhole would collapse and Borb would be free. He had only to choose the side of the wormhole he'd want to be before it collapse. He'd be a hero on one side. And something like a living devil on the other. But Mogul wasn't sure wich of the Serco or Itani would perceive Borb as a devil. or a hero.
Two days before he stole the famed and highly forbidden weapon, Mogul had pushed his luck, delivering 4 cus of purified xith, stolen from a Serco transport. The clerks at Divinia never realized who Mogul was. Bureaucrats! You can always count on their robot behavior. Punch this, sign that, thank you and come again! they meticulously reply at every xith cargo being dropped.
But then again... paperwork had been falsified. Mogul sometimes wondered why he didn't choose the life of those corporate crooks of the UIT octagon. He'd have made a fortune. Mogul had captured not four, but sixteen cus of xith. The extra crates, he was keeping for himself. Or rather, giving it to the Big Bore, as he called the hull-piercing Avalon Torpedo.
His unlikely friends in Corvus would be able to double-encase the Avalon in a xith hull. The Avalon would sit inside, cushioned in a layer of added explosives. "A bang of special magnificence, it'll be" he though. Mogul couldn't wait to see how much credits this would cost Borb.
But enough with the fireworks day dreaming.
Mogul returned to his writing, detailing his last thoughts to the universe. If anyone cared after this.
"Soon enough, I'll be gone, and my worries will cease. The fate of the Itani is up to them after this." he said aloud.
A galactic station news cast interrupted his thoughts... the greedy noobish GWAPC guard had been caught... and had confessed to the Avalon being loaded into a Nightwing.
"Hrm... that might complicate things if they trace it up to the UIT crook... maybe I should change ship again" he thought.
Three hours. Three hours and all the falsified paperwork required to enter the Itani Nation Military's secret weapons cache was meticulously prepared. Sure, outside the [ITAN] commander and the Galactic Weapon Anti-Proliferation Committee, no one knew of the existence of this weapons cache. All kinds of interesting things were lurking in there. And only because Mogul had personally inspected the site, soon after he became Commander of the Coalition Of Itan, did he knew about the unaccounted-for Avalon sitting in a mis-identified crate.
Three hours and suddenly, Mogul Velaio was Chief Inspector Vaal'Ok Dasmar of the GWAPC. Mogul always had a Forte for handling bureaucrats. And most were easily duped. Except for that new guard at the door. Undoubtedly a recruit, he didn't get fooled that easily by the paperwork. He had never seen printed GWAPC records to begin with and thus became suspicious rather quickly. Mogul thought this one was doing a better job than the previous ones at the various check points Mogul had to go through. The veterans tend to trust paperwork too blindly, in this day and age of electronic document dispersal.
Mogul could imagine Borb's infuriated face. He thought to himself "Gee, I'd be shooting everything in sight myself to see such a big lump of my own cash be given off for a simple guardsman bribe". Five big ones. Five million credits! Mogul was giggling as he continues to write his last public note. Soon, when it was all over, he'd have missed the reactions of that message, for it will have hit the public waves only after his death.
"My last testament!" he thought.
It was a relatively short note but the declassification of all his previous logs, throughout his career and the digging out of these notes, was a tedious task. All in hope that he'd be remembered as a man of conviction. A devoted Itani, for The Cause. And not remembered as a deranged individual that had, through the maze of his madness, set loose one of the worse Itani enemy in recent years. He thought of that deranged individual as someone else, always, for his mind had lost all traces of memory of that period in that surgery to save his life. Sure, all the logs, public records of first-hand accounts of the events, galactic news and his exile proved Borb Sarken right.
What a strange alliance this was. Borb Sarken. previously his arch enemy, was now helping Mogul's new cause: peace at all costs.
The cost was high. The venture had cost Borb Sarken well over 7 millions in bribes of all sort in order for Mogul to put his hand on the last known Avalon torpedo in existence. Or perhaps one of the few, lost and buried in the paperwork of the GAWPC. The last million was given off as a mouth gag for one of them UIT "venture capitalists", all too eager to get his hands on Borb's lent vintage Nightwing. Mogul was now flying an Aggresso. He felt right at home in that ship. How many hulls had he destroyed in that configuration? He himself wouldn't know. That ship was way more maneuverable than the Nightwing's poor engines trying to carry that heavy load that was the Avalon torpedo. Those things are huge! he though. Mogul's cost for peace was higher, though, than Borb. The Serco would survive this blast. But not Mogul. Though, Borb would get chased for a long time for having launched an Avalon. So what? With any luck, the wormhole would collapse and Borb would be free. He had only to choose the side of the wormhole he'd want to be before it collapse. He'd be a hero on one side. And something like a living devil on the other. But Mogul wasn't sure wich of the Serco or Itani would perceive Borb as a devil. or a hero.
Two days before he stole the famed and highly forbidden weapon, Mogul had pushed his luck, delivering 4 cus of purified xith, stolen from a Serco transport. The clerks at Divinia never realized who Mogul was. Bureaucrats! You can always count on their robot behavior. Punch this, sign that, thank you and come again! they meticulously reply at every xith cargo being dropped.
But then again... paperwork had been falsified. Mogul sometimes wondered why he didn't choose the life of those corporate crooks of the UIT octagon. He'd have made a fortune. Mogul had captured not four, but sixteen cus of xith. The extra crates, he was keeping for himself. Or rather, giving it to the Big Bore, as he called the hull-piercing Avalon Torpedo.
His unlikely friends in Corvus would be able to double-encase the Avalon in a xith hull. The Avalon would sit inside, cushioned in a layer of added explosives. "A bang of special magnificence, it'll be" he though. Mogul couldn't wait to see how much credits this would cost Borb.
But enough with the fireworks day dreaming.
Mogul returned to his writing, detailing his last thoughts to the universe. If anyone cared after this.
"Soon enough, I'll be gone, and my worries will cease. The fate of the Itani is up to them after this." he said aloud.
A galactic station news cast interrupted his thoughts... the greedy noobish GWAPC guard had been caught... and had confessed to the Avalon being loaded into a Nightwing.
"Hrm... that might complicate things if they trace it up to the UIT crook... maybe I should change ship again" he thought.
LeberMac finally docked in Divinia's Coranis Watch, the trip there from Bractus had been comical due to the increased pirate presence. The unaligned prates had taken to camping the wormhole jump points, which had made his journey through grayspace rather interesting.
The hatch of the new EC-89 hissed open and he climbed awkwardly out of the cockpit, his new foot aching fiercely as he descended the ladder to the flight deck. He tromped down to his office and immediately spawned a new instance of Deep Blue on his private computer core. He gave two search parameters: ("Mogul Velaio" && "Borb Sarken"), and ("Lecter").
Thousands of files cropped up, he sorted by relevance and by most recent activity. The events in Bractus made the headlines, but after that, there was no hard intel. There were rumors that Mogul had been seen in the company of Borb Sarken in grayspace, but these rumors were unconfirmed.
First, LeberMac reviewed the facts as he knew them:
1. Dr. Lecter had defected from the Serco. That much was clear.
2. Dr. Lecter had invited the three of them (Leber, Smitty and Mogul) for a sit-down, by essentially dangling three items that each of them valued highly: REAL tequila DNA, the Neut 4 prototype, and Toine Velaio's casket, with most of Toine still intact, apparently minus a few meals for Lecter.
3. Jandis Bosh and his fellow akanese operatives were unaware of Lecter's intentions, and followed LeberMac to Bractus. So, at least, Lecter wasn't working with the Akanese.
4. The meeting went poorly when he, LeberMac, has refused to play ball, which ended up in a disastrous sequence of events.
5. Jandis Bosh and his fellow operatives were eliminated by the actions of LeberMac and Dr. Lecter after the meeting.
6. Borb Sarken, as usual, was wired in pretty good to the universal intel situation, and managed to get the drop on Mogul & Smitty. He made off with the blinded Mogul Velaio to an unknown location. For unknown reasons.
7. Lecter's whereabouts are currently unknown.
8. Borb's whereabouts are currently unknown, but assumed to be with Mogul Velaio.
9. Smittens was gonna be pissed when he showed back up at the office.
Deep Blue synthesized the data points and came up with some assumptions.
A. All three targets (Mogul, Borb, and Lecter) were going to need protection from both Itani and Serco governments, as well as some various corporations and UIT entities.
B. Two of the targets (Lecter and Mogul) would most likely come to [ITAN] for shelter first. In fact, Lecter had already attempted this.
C. After the meeting, the likliehood of those two seeking [ITAN] assistance was now virtually nil. Which made them more desperate, reckless, and dangerous.
D. Therefore, additional leverage was going to be obtained by these individuals in order to ensure their protection.
It was imperative that these three individuals be found. He sent out the highest All-Points-Bulletin notification possible, and was about to follow it up with more detailed notifications, when Genotype burst in through the door to his office.
"Leber! You're back!" Genotype breathlessly said as he brandished a top-secret file.
Genotype has been a great help in Leber's absence on the secret mission to Bractus, taking care of a great many things, he was sure to be on the fast track to a higher rank in the guild.
"Yeah, had a real nice vacation to Bractus, Geno." LeberMac grumbled, "What's this?"
"You'll never believe this. Read it." Geno said, with a look of concern on his face.
Leber read it. Avalon weaponry delivered to rogue pilot, in an old Nightwing fighter. Location of Avalon device unknown. Great.
"That's not the half of it." Geno added, "Take a look at who has the avalon..." He trailed off as he handed LeberMac the surveillance photo.
"Chief Inspector Vaal'Ok Dasmar of the GWAPC." the caption said. However, the image was clearly a photo of Mogul Velaio.
LeberMac let the photo fall from his fingers and float to the floor. He opened up a desk drawer, removed a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, and poured tall shots for both of them. He drank, and Geno drank his as well. The two pilots sat in silence for several minutes.
"What do I do with this info?" Genotype asked. "What is [ITAN] going to do with Mogul?"
Smittens had not returned, and in his absence, a decision needed to be made by someone... right now. LeberMac looked Genotype in the eye and made the hardest command decision of his life.
"Kill Him."
The hatch of the new EC-89 hissed open and he climbed awkwardly out of the cockpit, his new foot aching fiercely as he descended the ladder to the flight deck. He tromped down to his office and immediately spawned a new instance of Deep Blue on his private computer core. He gave two search parameters: ("Mogul Velaio" && "Borb Sarken"), and ("Lecter").
Thousands of files cropped up, he sorted by relevance and by most recent activity. The events in Bractus made the headlines, but after that, there was no hard intel. There were rumors that Mogul had been seen in the company of Borb Sarken in grayspace, but these rumors were unconfirmed.
First, LeberMac reviewed the facts as he knew them:
1. Dr. Lecter had defected from the Serco. That much was clear.
2. Dr. Lecter had invited the three of them (Leber, Smitty and Mogul) for a sit-down, by essentially dangling three items that each of them valued highly: REAL tequila DNA, the Neut 4 prototype, and Toine Velaio's casket, with most of Toine still intact, apparently minus a few meals for Lecter.
3. Jandis Bosh and his fellow akanese operatives were unaware of Lecter's intentions, and followed LeberMac to Bractus. So, at least, Lecter wasn't working with the Akanese.
4. The meeting went poorly when he, LeberMac, has refused to play ball, which ended up in a disastrous sequence of events.
5. Jandis Bosh and his fellow operatives were eliminated by the actions of LeberMac and Dr. Lecter after the meeting.
6. Borb Sarken, as usual, was wired in pretty good to the universal intel situation, and managed to get the drop on Mogul & Smitty. He made off with the blinded Mogul Velaio to an unknown location. For unknown reasons.
7. Lecter's whereabouts are currently unknown.
8. Borb's whereabouts are currently unknown, but assumed to be with Mogul Velaio.
9. Smittens was gonna be pissed when he showed back up at the office.
Deep Blue synthesized the data points and came up with some assumptions.
A. All three targets (Mogul, Borb, and Lecter) were going to need protection from both Itani and Serco governments, as well as some various corporations and UIT entities.
B. Two of the targets (Lecter and Mogul) would most likely come to [ITAN] for shelter first. In fact, Lecter had already attempted this.
C. After the meeting, the likliehood of those two seeking [ITAN] assistance was now virtually nil. Which made them more desperate, reckless, and dangerous.
D. Therefore, additional leverage was going to be obtained by these individuals in order to ensure their protection.
It was imperative that these three individuals be found. He sent out the highest All-Points-Bulletin notification possible, and was about to follow it up with more detailed notifications, when Genotype burst in through the door to his office.
"Leber! You're back!" Genotype breathlessly said as he brandished a top-secret file.
Genotype has been a great help in Leber's absence on the secret mission to Bractus, taking care of a great many things, he was sure to be on the fast track to a higher rank in the guild.
"Yeah, had a real nice vacation to Bractus, Geno." LeberMac grumbled, "What's this?"
"You'll never believe this. Read it." Geno said, with a look of concern on his face.
Leber read it. Avalon weaponry delivered to rogue pilot, in an old Nightwing fighter. Location of Avalon device unknown. Great.
"That's not the half of it." Geno added, "Take a look at who has the avalon..." He trailed off as he handed LeberMac the surveillance photo.
"Chief Inspector Vaal'Ok Dasmar of the GWAPC." the caption said. However, the image was clearly a photo of Mogul Velaio.
LeberMac let the photo fall from his fingers and float to the floor. He opened up a desk drawer, removed a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, and poured tall shots for both of them. He drank, and Geno drank his as well. The two pilots sat in silence for several minutes.
"What do I do with this info?" Genotype asked. "What is [ITAN] going to do with Mogul?"
Smittens had not returned, and in his absence, a decision needed to be made by someone... right now. LeberMac looked Genotype in the eye and made the hardest command decision of his life.
"Kill Him."
"Kill him" Smittens heard through a random door in Divinia as he was passing through. The voice sounded familiar...a little too familiar....
"LEBER! GENO!" cried Smittens as he broke through the door. Seeing his Lt for the first time in days brought a few hateful thoughts back.
"Leber you ****er! Give me my ****ing access back! You ****ing pistol whipped me, you sunnuvabitch! What the **** is wrong with you!?!?"
"SMITTY!" cried Geno, stopping the rampage.
"What!?"
"Can we kill him?"
"Who?"
Leber shook his head violently at Geno, who unfortunately missed the signal. "Mogul?"
Minutes passed as Smittens stood there, a large inflamation still present above his left eye. Finally, he turned slowly from Genotype to Leber, as Geno plugged his ears.
"You gave the order to kill Mogul?" whispered Smittens, and Geno, seeing it was safe, removed his fingers.
"He's working with Borb now Smitts. It's the safest thing we can do."
"So you just assume because he's in Borb's company he's gone rogue? He knows I'm pulling for him, why would he do that?"
"I don't know, but right now he's a liabilitiy."
"Well it doesn't matter as, one: It's freaking Mogul. Two: He's an Itani. Three: It's Mogul. Four: You're just still pissy at being duped. Five: It's ****ing Mogul!"
"Do you have the info I have?" asked Leber, finally getting a little angry and standing up to look his commander in the eye.
"I don't care what the info is. Cancel that order, Geno."
"Don't listen Geno. He's just soft on Mogul since he also had a loser Serco brother die."
Smittens lunged forward, swinging his fist with all his might.
Leber easily dodged the blow, shaking his head as Smittens plowed into the wall behind him. "Come ON Smit--"
Yet as the commander slid down the wall, he actually pulled a somewhat cool move. Grabbing some elaborate, probably expensive glass sculpture on a nearby table, he threw it blindly over his shoulder, and heard a *SMASH* as it collided with Leber's head, sending the Lieutenant staggering.
Smittens stood, panting slightly from anger. "Geno, get out..." The up-and-coming not-so-new-anymore "recruit" sprinted from the room as fast as he could. "Leber, if I ever hear you talk about my brother like that again..."
"You think I'm angry cause *I* was duped? You don't even KNOW it's your brother!" yelled Leber from the floor.
Growling, Smittens picked up a large left over piece of glass, and drove it straight into Leber's newly-healed wrist, severing tendons while also pinning him to the floor, at least temporarily.
"You sunnuva...too far Smitty..." whispered Leber as he passed out.
Taking no care to avoid his friend for years' body, Smittens strode out of the room, the evidence in one hand, while the other pulled a lighter out of a pocket.
"LEBER! GENO!" cried Smittens as he broke through the door. Seeing his Lt for the first time in days brought a few hateful thoughts back.
"Leber you ****er! Give me my ****ing access back! You ****ing pistol whipped me, you sunnuvabitch! What the **** is wrong with you!?!?"
"SMITTY!" cried Geno, stopping the rampage.
"What!?"
"Can we kill him?"
"Who?"
Leber shook his head violently at Geno, who unfortunately missed the signal. "Mogul?"
Minutes passed as Smittens stood there, a large inflamation still present above his left eye. Finally, he turned slowly from Genotype to Leber, as Geno plugged his ears.
"You gave the order to kill Mogul?" whispered Smittens, and Geno, seeing it was safe, removed his fingers.
"He's working with Borb now Smitts. It's the safest thing we can do."
"So you just assume because he's in Borb's company he's gone rogue? He knows I'm pulling for him, why would he do that?"
"I don't know, but right now he's a liabilitiy."
"Well it doesn't matter as, one: It's freaking Mogul. Two: He's an Itani. Three: It's Mogul. Four: You're just still pissy at being duped. Five: It's ****ing Mogul!"
"Do you have the info I have?" asked Leber, finally getting a little angry and standing up to look his commander in the eye.
"I don't care what the info is. Cancel that order, Geno."
"Don't listen Geno. He's just soft on Mogul since he also had a loser Serco brother die."
Smittens lunged forward, swinging his fist with all his might.
Leber easily dodged the blow, shaking his head as Smittens plowed into the wall behind him. "Come ON Smit--"
Yet as the commander slid down the wall, he actually pulled a somewhat cool move. Grabbing some elaborate, probably expensive glass sculpture on a nearby table, he threw it blindly over his shoulder, and heard a *SMASH* as it collided with Leber's head, sending the Lieutenant staggering.
Smittens stood, panting slightly from anger. "Geno, get out..." The up-and-coming not-so-new-anymore "recruit" sprinted from the room as fast as he could. "Leber, if I ever hear you talk about my brother like that again..."
"You think I'm angry cause *I* was duped? You don't even KNOW it's your brother!" yelled Leber from the floor.
Growling, Smittens picked up a large left over piece of glass, and drove it straight into Leber's newly-healed wrist, severing tendons while also pinning him to the floor, at least temporarily.
"You sunnuva...too far Smitty..." whispered Leber as he passed out.
Taking no care to avoid his friend for years' body, Smittens strode out of the room, the evidence in one hand, while the other pulled a lighter out of a pocket.
Screwball sat at a booth in the Makchuga after running another Deneb Run. As he sipped his drink and congratulated the pilots, someone in a Corvus uniform approached.
"Are you Lt. Screwball of TGFT?" the man asked. He held a small package in his hand.
"Yes. How can I help you?" replied the trader.
"I was asked to deliver this to you, sir."
"Interesting... I wasn't expecting anything. Very well, thank you." The trader handed the station hand a tip and examined the package. Inside was a small data crystal and a credit stick.
Realizing that this was probably not meant for public display, Screwball paid his respects to the pilots one more time, paid his bill, and headed back to the hanger.
A few minutes later, he was cruising idly through an empty sector somewhere between Corvus Hold and the wormhole to Sedina. This would be a much safer location to examine the mystery package. He took the data crystal out of the package and plugged it into a portable computer that was not connected to the ship's flight controls, just in case.
The crystal was almost blank, it had only two files on it. The first was small audio recording, and the second was a text document. Screwball read the document first.
=============
Hello Lt. Screwball,
I wish to hire the services of Radio TGFT to broadcast the message on this chip to the galaxy during your Friday and Saturday evening Rock shows this week. I trust the enclosed credit stick will cover the standard rate.
Assuming you are amenable to this, I expect to make use of your services again.
Sincerely,
Mogul Velaio
=============
Screwball hadn't really known what to expect was in the package, but this sure was a surprise. He'd talked with Mogul Velaio only a few times before, while trying to diffuse the tensions over cargo inspection vs free trade that had caused the loss of both a TGFT cargo ship and an Itani military ship a few months ago. Thankfully, cooler heads had prevailed on both sides, and there were no lingering hostilities.
From what he'd heard lately, Mogul Velaio was now out of ITAN and probably being hunted by both the Serco and Itani. "I'm glad I'm not in the crosshairs like that," the trader thought. "If he wants to pay me to broadcast his side of the story, what the heck? Everyone deserves that right. Besides, I'm already running ads for ST6, so this is a good opportunity to prove that Radio TGFT is a fair and balanced media."
Screwball punched a few buttons and uploaded the message...
[OOC: This is for real. Tune into Radio TGFT during the Rock program on Friday or Saturday night to hear Mogul's message. See http://www.live365.com/stations/dj_screwball/schedule for the schedule. I can't tell exactly when the message will play because it's on random shuffle, but the time slot (3.5 hours) is just longer than the playlist, so it should air at least once each night. Enjoy the music!]
"Are you Lt. Screwball of TGFT?" the man asked. He held a small package in his hand.
"Yes. How can I help you?" replied the trader.
"I was asked to deliver this to you, sir."
"Interesting... I wasn't expecting anything. Very well, thank you." The trader handed the station hand a tip and examined the package. Inside was a small data crystal and a credit stick.
Realizing that this was probably not meant for public display, Screwball paid his respects to the pilots one more time, paid his bill, and headed back to the hanger.
A few minutes later, he was cruising idly through an empty sector somewhere between Corvus Hold and the wormhole to Sedina. This would be a much safer location to examine the mystery package. He took the data crystal out of the package and plugged it into a portable computer that was not connected to the ship's flight controls, just in case.
The crystal was almost blank, it had only two files on it. The first was small audio recording, and the second was a text document. Screwball read the document first.
=============
Hello Lt. Screwball,
I wish to hire the services of Radio TGFT to broadcast the message on this chip to the galaxy during your Friday and Saturday evening Rock shows this week. I trust the enclosed credit stick will cover the standard rate.
Assuming you are amenable to this, I expect to make use of your services again.
Sincerely,
Mogul Velaio
=============
Screwball hadn't really known what to expect was in the package, but this sure was a surprise. He'd talked with Mogul Velaio only a few times before, while trying to diffuse the tensions over cargo inspection vs free trade that had caused the loss of both a TGFT cargo ship and an Itani military ship a few months ago. Thankfully, cooler heads had prevailed on both sides, and there were no lingering hostilities.
From what he'd heard lately, Mogul Velaio was now out of ITAN and probably being hunted by both the Serco and Itani. "I'm glad I'm not in the crosshairs like that," the trader thought. "If he wants to pay me to broadcast his side of the story, what the heck? Everyone deserves that right. Besides, I'm already running ads for ST6, so this is a good opportunity to prove that Radio TGFT is a fair and balanced media."
Screwball punched a few buttons and uploaded the message...
[OOC: This is for real. Tune into Radio TGFT during the Rock program on Friday or Saturday night to hear Mogul's message. See http://www.live365.com/stations/dj_screwball/schedule for the schedule. I can't tell exactly when the message will play because it's on random shuffle, but the time slot (3.5 hours) is just longer than the playlist, so it should air at least once each night. Enjoy the music!]
The message had aired. Right after the mining event. TGFT was indeed reliable and, apparently so, unbiased.
Mogul Velaio was happy about this. A renewed sense of belonging engulfed Mogul as he now had a new means of reaching out and getting his point across.
The Avalon torpedo restoration and outfitting operation was going nicely in Corvus. There was the unfortunate accident wich caused two workers to be come sick but, it had been cleared by the deck officer than the small torpedo leak was not in cause. it had cost many credits to make it so. The desk officer was a few hundred thousands credit more certain the incident had nothing to do with the mysterious illness of the deck crewmen.
Screw them, though Mogul. Corvus should be happy to have been given the job. Them unscrupulous corporate folks down at Biocom would have killed for a chance to do it.
Mogul had recorded toe broadcast in case he'd missed it for some reason. He kept listening to it and wondered if his recording equipment wasn't too cheap. "My voice sounds terrible through that mic." he said aloud.
Mogul thought, however, that many people would not had eared with the broadcast and was hoping that this Saturday's repeat of the recording would reach more people.
"Perhaps I should hack into the galaxy archive and put it up there... I'll see about that tomorrow, after tonight's broadcast" he though.
Mogul Velaio was happy about this. A renewed sense of belonging engulfed Mogul as he now had a new means of reaching out and getting his point across.
The Avalon torpedo restoration and outfitting operation was going nicely in Corvus. There was the unfortunate accident wich caused two workers to be come sick but, it had been cleared by the deck officer than the small torpedo leak was not in cause. it had cost many credits to make it so. The desk officer was a few hundred thousands credit more certain the incident had nothing to do with the mysterious illness of the deck crewmen.
Screw them, though Mogul. Corvus should be happy to have been given the job. Them unscrupulous corporate folks down at Biocom would have killed for a chance to do it.
Mogul had recorded toe broadcast in case he'd missed it for some reason. He kept listening to it and wondered if his recording equipment wasn't too cheap. "My voice sounds terrible through that mic." he said aloud.
Mogul thought, however, that many people would not had eared with the broadcast and was hoping that this Saturday's repeat of the recording would reach more people.
"Perhaps I should hack into the galaxy archive and put it up there... I'll see about that tomorrow, after tonight's broadcast" he though.
*Panos Danbar was a brave fellow. Mogul had spotted him on his numerous dealings with a certain Corvus station where he served rotating shifts as station guard.
As much as Corvus goes, this bunch that Mogul had ties to were very different than the bulk of Corvus. They were the Rogues amongst the Rogues.
"Thanks, *Panos, for the good news." said Mogul, handling out a credits stick.
And together, they had achieved the impossible. Borb will undoubtedly be surprised when he sees the debit on his credit sticks.
Not many organisation could buy what Mogul had just bought. Less even on the black market as he did.
But Mogul could handle paperwork and that alone meant a lot in such operations. Mogul prepared another transmission and contacted his unlikely friend, Borb Sarken...
"Borb... you said your had lots of Samo?, asked Mogul
- Yes I do. Several hundred tons of it.
- You said we could fill up a moth full of it right?
- More than so. Why?
- I've done some math... a moth full of samo wouldn't be enough for what we need to do. My ballpark figures are much higher. I've tapped into [ITAN]'s Deep blue machine to run some numbers but... I'm no astrophysicist, so my math is not that optimised. Unfortunately, my connection broke during final rundowns of the calculations and I dont have the final answers. But I have some answers.
- And? What result did you get?
- We definitely need more than a moth. So, I had you buy something larger.
- A Moth Heavy?
- Much larger. I had to deal with the logistics but... we have it...
- What? WHAT??!
- Borb... you've just purchase our very own... TPG Constellation" Mogul said.
Silence.
Long silence.
"Borb? Still there? Think you can find 1000CUs of samo?" asked Mogul.
"I... I'll see about that... I'll have to get back to you..." said a completely surprised Borb.
Mogul liked surprises. He wish he had been there in person to see Borb's face.
"Get back to me soon. This thing ain't easy to hide." said Mogul.
As much as Corvus goes, this bunch that Mogul had ties to were very different than the bulk of Corvus. They were the Rogues amongst the Rogues.
"Thanks, *Panos, for the good news." said Mogul, handling out a credits stick.
And together, they had achieved the impossible. Borb will undoubtedly be surprised when he sees the debit on his credit sticks.
Not many organisation could buy what Mogul had just bought. Less even on the black market as he did.
But Mogul could handle paperwork and that alone meant a lot in such operations. Mogul prepared another transmission and contacted his unlikely friend, Borb Sarken...
"Borb... you said your had lots of Samo?, asked Mogul
- Yes I do. Several hundred tons of it.
- You said we could fill up a moth full of it right?
- More than so. Why?
- I've done some math... a moth full of samo wouldn't be enough for what we need to do. My ballpark figures are much higher. I've tapped into [ITAN]'s Deep blue machine to run some numbers but... I'm no astrophysicist, so my math is not that optimised. Unfortunately, my connection broke during final rundowns of the calculations and I dont have the final answers. But I have some answers.
- And? What result did you get?
- We definitely need more than a moth. So, I had you buy something larger.
- A Moth Heavy?
- Much larger. I had to deal with the logistics but... we have it...
- What? WHAT??!
- Borb... you've just purchase our very own... TPG Constellation" Mogul said.
Silence.
Long silence.
"Borb? Still there? Think you can find 1000CUs of samo?" asked Mogul.
"I... I'll see about that... I'll have to get back to you..." said a completely surprised Borb.
Mogul liked surprises. He wish he had been there in person to see Borb's face.
"Get back to me soon. This thing ain't easy to hide." said Mogul.
A few days had passed since Mogul's message had aired on Radio TGFT. The world hadn't ended. "I guess this is safe," thought Screwball. "I wonder what he'll say next?"
The answer came soon, and with an ominous note attached.
"This is the second and last broadcast... Mogul"
Screwball hated to lose a new customer, but there really wasn't much he could do. He uploaded the message to Radio TGFT so that it would broadcast during the Friday and Saturday night Rock programs.
The answer came soon, and with an ominous note attached.
"This is the second and last broadcast... Mogul"
Screwball hated to lose a new customer, but there really wasn't much he could do. He uploaded the message to Radio TGFT so that it would broadcast during the Friday and Saturday night Rock programs.