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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 14, 2014 9:07:33 GMT
He liked it up here. The maintenance ladder was old and rusty, rickety enough to dissuade any of the larger boys from following him up.
The precarious climb led to this gantry which gave him a clear view of the length of the commercial space. Partly obscured by the neon sign of Vals bars beneath his feet he could see every passenger that entered from the public docks on this level. The air recirculater carried snippets of conversations to his ear just as it carried the smells from the open food stalls that jostled for space in the crowded area in the centre of the concourse.
Hunger clawed at him again as he sat, legs dangling through the railings of his favourite viewing spot. He tried his best to ignore it, along with the dull ache from his swollen eye as he watched the throngs in the market place below.
Pushing both feelings away he tried to concentrate on the task he had been given. It would be several hours yet until the central bazaar closed up, the food stalls and market sellers packing away to turn the space over to the night time vendors with their very different wares.
A group of men entered through the larger of the two hanger entrances. Their overalls, rugged faces and quick steps marking them as a freighter crew eager to get their shore leave under way. He counted them in and made a note – Jax would want to know how many girls he would need and how many bottles to stock to sate their appetites later. They were quickly followed by passengers from one of the third rate carriers, haggard faces of weary travellers disappearing instantly into the crowd.
He wanted to go home, but knew Tish would be sleeping before starting her night shift. Besides, if she had company he may earn another bruise to go with the one he had…and one was enough for this week.
Hats, robes, tattoo’s guns, luggage, pets, children…he watched all. He liked to make up stories of who the heads belonged too, where they were going or of the things they had done. Perhaps the huge tattooed guy with the cranial horn implants was a bounty hunter, moving in on the slim man dressed all in black whose eyes were hidden behind dark lenses. There went a princess, fleeing an evil tyrant….there a brave warrior and slayer of monsters….
While following a group of mercs as they pushed through the crowd he caught site of movement from the smaller of the docks entrances. A patch of space was slowly making its way forwards, a single woman at its centre.
People flowed around her almost without knowing. Some gapped slack jawed as they passed, some made comments to their companions as the bustled away.
No one seemed to bother her, but he could not see the reason why. Perhaps the gun she wore on her hip was enough to prevent the men from grabbing at her slight form? She was maybe not much older than Tish, and just as skinny. Even the big gang men moved out of her way as, without missing a step, she made her slow progress into his world.
She stopped for a second within her patch of isolation and stood motionless, eyes closed, seemingly listening or feeling for something in the bustle around her. Apparently satisfied she turned and headed to one of the bars on the concourse perimeter that had tables set outside on a small platform that raised its occupants up slightly above the throng, giving the sensation of detachment from the masses.
A tail! A big red furry tail! It bobbed along behind her as she selected a table and sat in a chair with her back to the bulkhead, the tail coiled into her lap like a pet he had seem some of the richer travellers carry as fashion accessories. Silver studs in her back…no…implants. She a capsuleer! Now he was excited, you never got their kind down here and he strained through the railings to try and get a better look. That’s why no one bothered her he realised as he watched with delight as she spoke with the nervous looking server. Order taken the man scuttled away and left the capsuleer alone. Careful movements tugged the crimson fabric of her gloves free from her fingers, exposing long coloured nails. Methodical motions folded the bright fabric before placing the gloves by her side.
Faster than usual a tray of refreshments was brought to her table. Tea of some kind in a glass pot, two glasses and two plates of steaming red something. Again, his stomach registered its displeasure of its current state with an audible growl.
She poured out two glasses of pale green liquid before sitting back in her chair, cup and saucer in hand. She took a sip before replacing the glassware on the table. Then she lifted her head and, staring straight at him, smiled, waved and gestured to the empty seat and full plate set beside her.
“She can see me!” he realised with a start. “No one ever sees me!” The slight fear of capsuller reputation did not balance with the odd tailed lady sitting harmlessly below, and doubt was squashed by his innate curiosity and the prospect of free food. Decision made he backtracked along the gantry and deftly scuttled down the ladder onto the concourse level. Quick as he could he wriggled through the crowd, conscious to stay low so as not to draw any ganger interest before hopping up onto the food sellers platform. The server, seeing only a dirty hab urchin on his patch hurriedly moved forward to evict the boy with his boot, but was stopped by a small cough and a raised eyebrow from the seated lady.
Free of the man’s attention he raced forward and practically jumped into the seat at her table.
Bemusement showed on the ladies face as she spoke, her accent ringing through her words. “Namas dhedus priftijyl….my name is Malikora, but you may call me Malik if you wish?”
He regarded the outstretched hand for a second before returning his attention to the plate before him
“You can call me what you like, but they normally just shout Vic when they want me…..and I’m not little.”
“Niryave…forgive me Vic, it was meant endearingly, not as a slight… and it flatters me that you know of my language.” She returned her hand to her cup. “I like to meet new people and you had been staring at me since I arrived.”
“Sm job” he mumbled, eyes still fixed on the food. “And I hear all sorts of words up there.”
“Please, help yourself” as she inclined her head towards the plate.
The last syllable had barely past her lips before he was shovelling the contents of the red dish into his mouth as fast as he could swallow. Hot, spicy beans he thought as he worked to demolish it all before someone took it away.
Seemingly sensing his mood she spoke softly “Slowly slowly, don’t choke. No one will bother you as long as you stay here and talk with me.” She pushed her own untouched plate forward as he neared the end of his own “and I’d hate for you to sick that back up having just eaten it so fast”
Glancing up he pulled the second plate into reach and before attacking this one too….only a little more slowly.
As his hunger abated his curiosity took over. “Your kind never come down here” he stated between mouthfuls “Why are you then?”
“Good question. I’ll do you a deal priftijyl, a question for a question and all the plates of food you can eat. Do you agree?”
Spoon paused between plate and lips he regarded her for a second “That’s all you want?” he asked. “Just talk and I can eat all I want? For real?”
“For real” she replied, “just please slow down, you’re getting as much on your shirt as you are into your belly.”
“You have a deal lady”
“Mahatatun! Then to answer you’re first. It’s in my interest to know of all the things that go on under my feet and around the places I come to sleep.”
“You live here then?”
“Live?” She chuckled? “Thats doubtful. I come here from time to time to rest, trade and sleep.”
“Is it true you can’t die?” he asked with morbid fascination.
“Nothing is immortal dhedus priftijyl….not the stars, not the gods and certainly not me. Its just that we have become very very hard to kill off permanently.”
“I thought you never slept and lived in a liquid filed coffin?”
“A coffin is a colourful description, but hydrostatic capsule is more accurate. I prefer a real bed though, same as you.”
“Don’t have a bed, got a blanket though.” he murmured in a small ‘mattter of fact’ way.
“You said you had a job, what is it you do?”
“I watch people.” he replied. “I’m good at it. Jax has me watch for interesting people, count off duty sailors, look for odd people you know, anything that catches my eye.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” he asked quickly.
The abrupt change of tack took her by surprise. “My, aren’t you a perceptive one? These days, nothing. I once had an injury to my knee, but it’s long gone now, along with the knee for that matter. Sometimes the mind forgets things though, and habits die hard”.
“How come you saw me?”
“I was blessed with a perceptive mind, though it can sometimes be a curse” she replied. “ My implants have made it even more acute…so I see little things….including you.”
“You should not be down here alone you know…bad things can happen to girls on their own.”
She placed a hand over her heart “I’m touched, but what makes you think I’m alone”
“I didn’t see anyone with you.”
“No, but then you wouldn’t” she laughed. “She is good at staying hidden until needed.”
He frowned in confusion at that. “Why didn’t people bump into you? Is it because of your gun? I want a gun, people would not push me around if I had one.”
She cocked her head to the side for a moment before drawing the gun from its place at her waist and laying it on the table in front of her.
He looked at it hungrily, the dark grey metal of its short barrel and ugly squat design clashed with the bright purple fabric wrapped around the grip and the silver bell charm that hung from the trigger guard.
“The gun is a statement. People see it and they think they know you. Worn openly it says to everyone that you expect trouble and consider yourself able to deal with it. It is also a distraction, if they look at it then they are not really seeing you….and its good not to be seen.”
She drew her finger nails across the wooden table surface, producing deep purple coloured scratches that matched the polish she wore. “Besides” she continued “If you need to fight someone its best to ensure your going to win….and never fight fair.” Her right hand appeared from beneath the table, a small double edged blade extending between her middle and index fingers. “And always fight to win.” With a deft motion she flipped the small blade over to grasp the polished metal tang, before offering it to the startled boy. "For you and the next time someone tries to blacken your eye.”
Eyes wide he reached out and accepted the wickedly sharp gift.
“My turn now. Is this Jax character your kin?”
Small fists tightened around the knife as he replied “No, our family owes him a debt which we have to pay, me and Tish that is. She….she works for him….and me too. I keep an eye open and tell what I see and also bring him the things I find. When I’m bigger I’ll get my marks, then I’ll be part of the gang and won’t get beat on so much.”
She stirred her tea and made no answer, so he went back to cleaning his plate with his finger while he waited for her reply. When nothing was forthcoming he decided to ask again. “Why do you have a tail and white marks on your face and a scar?”
She continued to stare into her glass as she answered. “A bad thing happened to me, the scar came from that. The white tattoo’s came from sadness after that event, and will be removed when I make things right. The tail is like the gun, it draws attention away from the real me, but with the added bonus of aiding my balance and providing me a nice snug place to keep my hands warm."
Satisfied with the reply he took a sip from the tea glass before pulling a face at the bitter taste and, thinking better of it, set the glass back down.
“Tell me priftijyl, do you know all the little ways around this station? The small ways that the men can’t follow? The quiet ways where no one looks? The still places where you go to hide from the world? Would you show them to me if we asked you?”
“How do you know I….yes course I do!” he declared proudly, before doubt crossed his face. “But I can’t tell you. Jax will up our debt or….or hurt Tish if I tell you things I’m not supposed to.”
Malik tried a different tack. “If you could go anywhere or do anything what would it be? Would you want to go back to Minmatar space and look for your kin? Or maybe go somewhere quiet?”
“I don’t know nothing about Minmatar lady. If I could do anything I’d bash Jax’s brains in for what he has done to us and made us do. Then we’d run far away. Maybe I’ll become a pilot like you!” he exclaimed excitedly, before adding “Tish wants our own house with our own things….but what’s it to you anyway?”
“Show me the things I want to see, and I’ll make your dreams come true.” she purred.
“You can really do that?” He gasped, eyes wide at the thought.
“Oh yes” she replied with a wicked smirk. “And best of all we’ll enjoy doing it.”
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 20, 2014 17:06:40 GMT
“Babel!”
Smoke and noise hit him in the face with an almost physical force as, eyes streaming, he stumbled into the bar.
“Babel!”
“Whazzup Kreet? Quit ya yelling will ya…..ya killing my mood “
Kreet stumbled forward, vision swimming with the green and purple blotches that the transition from bright artificial daylight to red tinged near darkness brought.
“You’s never gonna believe what just fucking walked into the bay” he burbled excitedly, the drugs in his system forcing the words from his mouth in a torrent of noise and spittle.
Babel snarled in irritation as Kreet collapsed onto the seat next to him, the jolt spilling cheap grain spirit from the glass he held loosely in one tattooed hand. Without tearing his eyes from the bored looking stripper gyrating to the bass on the dais in front he viciously elbowed the smaller man, grinning at the groan he gained in response.
Eager eyes traced their way up the dancers tattoo’s as they wound their way from between her legs and traced round to the back of her neck.
“….ssss egger, a real fucking egger….just sitting out there on our patch…bold as brass”
“Don’t be fucking dumb, they don’t come here….too busy lording it in the other levels to bother with scum like us”
“…just sitting there she is….drinking tea and talking to some minny whelp….no guards…nuffing…”
“Aint real Kreet, just some moneyed wannabe with some cheap dermals trying to look the part….remember we had one up level once, frickin idiot had that one coming “
“I swear it boss, on me mothers life it’s really one of em. Skinny little slice, sweet skin and a great big tail, like that whore at Val’s used ta have before someone took a souvenir….he he….would love me a piece….”
Leaning forward he planted a heavy slap on the naked rear of the girl, propelling her with a squeal away from the group. Pausing to glance back she spat a curse at Babel, the music swallowing its venom before it reached the laughing man’s ears.
Climbing to his feet he cracked his knuckles before jabbing a finger towards Kreet, whose gaze was firmly fixed on the retreating stripper naked behind. “If you’re talking crap I’ll bust your head you hear me shit? Get me a couple more rat teeth for the collection yeah?”
Casting around the gloom he spied another member of his crew huddled in a corner, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling. A couple of wolf whistles brought the man’s gaze back to the present. Wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth he cast Babel a questioning look.
“Get ya shit together Rannis, we’s going out for a looksee.”
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Vic sat wide eyed and open mouthed as he took in what the lady had just said.
“You’d take us from here, Tish and me, just for helping you crawl about?” His voice betraying his disbelief. “Why?” The question was all he could think to ask.
She scooped up the pistol and slid it back into place before leaning forward, elbows on table to answer. “Blue prints and schematics go out of date as soon as you add people to the equation. Things break, get moved….spaces get filled up and abandoned. It would take me weeks to poke around and learn only a fraction of what you know. Besides….” she added with a smile, “I tend to draw attention and that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.” Sensing the kid needed something more she paused for a second before continuing, her tone again taking a harder edge. “I also don’t hold with the concept of indentured service, it smacks too much of sanctioned slavery and anything I can do to remind people that we are not Ammarrians can’t be bad.”
She toyed with her empty glass before making her offer.
“Show me what you know….quietly, without undue attention or fuss and I’ll take your sister and you anywhere you want to go, with enough funds to ensure you can do pretty much anything you like.” She watched his face as he fought with the idea of freedom balanced against the reality of his life experience to this point. “And I’ll serve Jax up to you on a plate, so you can explain to him all the things you’d like to say….perhaps with the little blade I gave you yes?”
“Trouble”
The thought brought her gaze up swiftly as her hand settled subconsciously on the grip of her gun. A disturbance was making its noisy way through the crowd, non to carefully either by judge of the shouts and curses filtering to her ears through the background noise.
“Friends of yours?” she asked with a nod of her head.
Turning in his seat Vic got to his knee’s to get a look at whatever she had seen.
“Shit” he said quietly as he recognised the cause of the disturbance.
“Grippers” he mumbled by way of explanation. “I never saw them come in, they must have docked during the night or something. Bad news lady, even the local gangs don’t like em, they just put up with em cos of the money they burn when they make port.”
Turning back to face her he said “But can’t you just kill them or something?”
She shook her head slightly before replying “Likely, but that would bring attention beyond the idle curiosity I have on me now. Besides, this is an open space, I’ve no idea if there are more guns amongst this crowd, and can’t be sure where they would end up pointing if the shooting where to start.” Reaching out she placed a hand on top of one of his “maybe you should lead the way out of here yes? Somewhere quiet we can slip away?”
“Oi cockroach! who’s ya friend?"
No mistake, they both heard the shout as the men got closer.
She narrowed her eyes as she picked out details through the press of bodies separating the group from the platform and the table at which she sat. “Three men, armed, drunk or high, small calibre weapons, cheap but serviceable, same as the body armour…well used in all sense of the word.”
Not pausing to acknowledge the assessment she pushed her chair back and pulled Vic round to her side “Time to leave little mouse, off that end there and then you lead the way”. A credit chip dropped from her palm as she retrieved her gloves. “Let’s make ourselves scarce”.
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“Hurry!” He was almost frantic now as he pulled at her hand leading her off to the left, branching from an access corridor, through a broken security door and into a maintenance tunnel. “We can get into a vent up ahead, no way they can squeeze through…c’mon lady please!” He almost begged, straining to drag her along faster and away from the echoing jeers that followed.”
“We don’t run.”
The thought came through strong and clear to her mind, anger burning in those three words.
“Never run.”
She slowed down, and then stopped. The corridor was clear, Vic’s frightened face in one direction, the encroaching threat in the other.
“Oh please please!” he half screamed “They’ll hurt you! They’ll hurt you….they’ll hurt you like did Tish” sobs wracked his small frame as he begged “don’t want them to hurt you.”
She scanned both directions again before kneeling in front of the boy, gently placed both hands on his shoulders. “fhaadk dhedus priftijyl……hush little mouse, its ok. Run and hide, cover your eyes and ears if you must….this won’t take long.”
Kreet sniffed the air and practically drooled at the perfume that hung heavy like a scent trail “Smell that?” he shouted “I can practically taste her….smells like rich girl huh huh”
Vic crouched in the ventilation pipe, the darkness inside obscuring his form from view as he hugged his knees close to his chest. Clutching his new knife he murmured “no no no” to himself as he watched. She had dropped her scarlet gloves and had moved placing her back up against the wall. She seemed smaller somehow as she stood and waited.
“Lookie Lookie” Babel crowed as they turned the corner and saw their prey huddled against the wall. “Where’s the roach” he asked as the other two moved to stand either side of her, cutting off any escape
“Please” she whispered, starring at the floor “please just let me go.”
“See!" Kreet shouted in delight “Didn’t even go for that fancy piece…gonna be a fake, just like the studs. Whats the matter rich girl, want some excitement in your life….you ran down the wrong rabbit hole baby.”
“Lucky we found ya….some bad sorts down here huh huh” Rannis chuckled darkly.
Spurred on by a blood stream maxed with cheap alcohol and low grade stims Babel reached out and grasped hold of her waist, moving forward he pressed her against the wall with his bulk.
“Ssss citement you want we got all you could need….be nice and you’ll even walk away we promise…..”
Yanking hard he span her round so she faced the wall.
“Fuck me look at that!” he slurred as he grabbed a hold of the red tail that appeared. Pulling it up he pressed his nose into the fur and took a deep breath.. ”Oh baby you smell so sweet…I’ve never fucked me a capsule….AAARGH!”
The reinforced heel of her boot banged into the deck plate, its passage though his foot complete.
Snapping her head back she connected with his nose, the wet crack plastering her hair with crimson and forcing his head back. Rotating on her bloody heel she brought her palm edge round in a jab, the connection shattering his larynx with a pop. With all his weight on his uninjured foot he collapsed backwards as her precise kick separated his knee cap from his leg.
Kreet grabbed at her as Babel fell, surprise passing across his face as, rather than pulling away, she grasped his wrist and pulled him close. Off balance he stepped forward as she rotated her hip and rolled him past her and into the first shot from Rannis’s gun.
BANG! The sound reverberated against the metal walls as crimson splashed across the surface from the bullets impact. Comical shock mixed with disbelief showed on Kreet’s face as his friends automatic response sent the second shot into his chest, producing another bloody crater.
Rannis never had time for a third. Wheeling out from behind her shield and crouching low she fired up into her target. Point blank her first shot took his arm at the elbow. Before the shock could register her second took his leg off below the knee.
Releasing Kreet’s jacket she stood up as both men fell. Stationary for a second she listened. No alarms, no running footfalls. People knew well enough not to run towards trouble in this level of the station. She would not be interrupted.
“You’re getting really good at this you know”
She didn’t acknowledge the thought
“Vic honey” she called out softly. “Come out now little mouse, I’ve something to show you.”
It had happened so quickly. One second three men had been standing, now all were down. The noise of the gunshots still rang in his ears as he crept from his hiding place. She stood over them, casually wiping spots of blood from her hands with her sleeve. Her voice had changed again he noticed, slightly sharper with a hard edge to the words. He didn’t think he liked it the sound of it so much.
She turned to look at him as he slowly approached, blood, but none of her own, stuck to the hair on the back of her head and showed as red spots on the white of her tattoos.
“Are….are they dead?” he asked in a shaking voice.
“Not yet” she replied, noting the fear tinged with curiosity in his tone. “Soon though.”
“How did you do that?” He asked as he moved forward, stopping on the edge of a rapidly spreading pool of blood from the unfortunate former Kreet.
“Like I said before” she started, bending down to rifle through Babels jacket while ignoring his gasps and feeble thrashings. “People see what they want to. Unfortunately for these pusavar tiigarlaand they were slow to see the real me.” She discarded the items she found onto the ground before checking the next pocket.
“What are we going to do?” he whispered. “What if more come after us?”
“You’re dead! Dead ya hear, we’ll gut ya good ya hear me witch!”
Vic started, Rannis’s words a shock after the silence. She ignored him. Slumped on the floor, clutching his ruined forearm to his chest he was no threat….his pistol lay out of reach on the deck, still tightly in the grasp of his severed hand. A glance at the veritable lake of red in which he sat told her his threats would not continue long.
“They won’t” she said calmly, her words balanced to calm his nerves. “Three dead lowlifes is no concern of the authorities. No gang will announce it for fear of seeming weak. No one will believe any rumours, and this spot guarantee’s no witnesses.”
Standing she gently placed her hand on his back and guided him over to Babels prone form. A slight touch to his shoulder had him kneeling down next to her.
“Look at this man” she said, grimacing as the stench of alcohol mixed with body odour and voided bowls reached her nose. “He is large, strong and armed. He walked into this situation expecting to rape me and probably kill us both…and now he is gasping his last, his remaining heart beats numbering in tens. In a straight fight he, or one of his….companions…would likely have killed me….”
“But you said to never fight fair” Vic added, the bloody lesson seeping in.
“And I didn’t. Their assumptions killed them, I merely corrected their errors.”
Producing a second small knife from inside her belt, the mirror of the one he clutched, she held it over the gasping mans throat.
“If this was Jax laying here now, what would you do” she asked, reaching out to take one of his hands and placing it on the knifes handle under her own. "Would you kill him? It’s no big thing to kill a man, and no small thing to watch a man die.”
With the last word she pushed the small hand forward, the tip of the knife entering flesh, passing between vertebras and severing the spinal column in an instant. Separated from the need to breath the large mans eyes swivelled from side to side, still searching for escape. She held their gaze as they stopped their frantic search before becoming calm and eventually glazing over.
“Help me with what I asked and in time this will be Jax before you, and your hand alone will end him.”
Releasing his hand she stood and turned to regard the still vocal Rannis. His threats had faded through curses to pleading and had finally settled on incoherent mumbling. His eyes did not see her as she crouched before him and watched carefully as he murmured out his last.
“Right” she announced cheerfully to the empty corridor as she stood, eyes sweeping over the new corpses and Vic’s huddled form. “Time to go. Best find somewhere to get cleaned up before heading back to civilisation…..blood draws such attention….we have work to do.”
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wickonian
Inner Circle
I have big idea's! and no skill to implement them!
Posts: 79 
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Post by wickonian on Jul 20, 2014 19:30:57 GMT
looking good, keep it up  |
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 20, 2014 20:29:14 GMT
Thanks Jonas. Its fun and seems to be getting easier....not sure if that's good or bad though yet.
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Post by Minerva Serekar on Jul 22, 2014 0:13:11 GMT
blood does get attention, especially if minerva is around to smell it.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 22, 2014 18:23:11 GMT
Trust you Minerva....are you part shark or something?
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 22, 2014 18:24:03 GMT
Almost finished part three....watch this space  |
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 26, 2014 6:26:45 GMT
The disinfectant was failing in its task to mask the unmistakably undertone of human urine. Mixing with the aroma of unwashed bodies and cooking food it assaulted her senses, causing her to wrinkle her nose under her cowl.
Overhead a strip light’s malfunctioning tick was starting to annoy, its semi random flashings threatening to give her a headache.
“You bring us to the best places”
She pulled the cowl a little closer and did her best to block out the voice, along with everything else.
“No seriously, what is it with you and charity cases? I think I preferred it back on the ward….least it was clean there.”
She focussed her attention on the currently closed door as Vic tried another bout of banging to wake the hab units occupant.
“Ah c’mon Tish!” he yelled, “You gotta let me in!”
Movement in the stairwell at the end of the corridor.
Stepping back she melded with the shadow provided by the doorway opposite and the flickering lighting. Drawing her grey jacket and hood a little closer she loosened the pistol in its holster at her side.
Her head cocked to the side as she registered sounds from behind the locked door at which they waited. Footfalls and curses where approaching. A break in the light through the peephole confirmed that Vic had managed to rouse not just the dead but also his sister with his efforts.
A click as a lock disengaged, a wedge of neon brighness and a bleary face framed in tussled black hair. Red rimmed eyes fought for focus before settling on Vic’s concerned face.
“…hmmm....what the fuck Vic? What’s with the noise?”
Tish staggered backwards as Vic pushed his way into the room they called home.
“Hey!” she shouted as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Oh Tish you’ll never guess what’s happened….”
Malik moved from cover and crossing the corridor in a stride. Entered the hab unit quickly she pushed the door closed behind her with a foot.
Still suffering the effects from the night before coupled with her rude awakening Tish was slow to spot the newcomer. Only registering a hooded figure intruding on her space she reacted as expected.
“Fuck!” she yelled as she pulled against her brother’s embrace to reach out towards the sink. Grabbing hold of a kitchen knife she waved it in front of her as she grabbed at Vic’s jacket to pull him away from the perceived danger. “Get out! Get OUT!” she screamed, oblivious to Vic’s attempted shouts of explanation.
Well out of reach of the wildly swinging blade Malik carefully raised her scarlet gloved hands. Grasping the hood that covered her face she slowly pulled the grey fabric aside before raising her eyes to meet Tish’s fearful gaze.
“Narav jaatreer, narav” she cooed softly in her native tongue. “zantayta….calm….calm down”.
“Get the fuck out!” Tish hissed in reply through clenched teeth, eyes darting between the strangers white marked face and the weapon she wore at her hip.
Finally managing to twist free of his sisters grasp, Vic pulled forward to jump out and stand between the two. “Tish! Stop it!” he yelled, “Listen just listen will ya?”
The blade stayed firmly in the air between the two women as Tish tried to take everything in “Who the hell are you freak!” she yelled as she noticed the intruders body mod, the red fur tail waving slowly side to side, the woman’s only movement as she stood regarding her with hard blue eyes.
Grey fatigues performed a better job of hiding her muscled legs than the back vest top did with the rest of her body. Bare feet, the chipped black nail polish the same colour as her long sleep tangled locks. Seventeen, maybe eighteen though older in the face than her years would say. Large brown eyes, pretty, though narrowed in anger. Shadows of bruises on her upper arms, greenish grey against the pale skin and pure black ink of her gang tattoo's.
“Ok” Malik replied softly.”Lets try for some trust shall we?”.
Scarlet covered thumb and forefinger descended to the gun at her waist. A light grasp and the weapon was lifted to dangle free, its muzzle towards the floor. A warning hiss from Tish followed a swift movement before a metallic thump signalled the magazine’s ejection and arrival on the floor. A second slow movement drew the slide back, depositing a large grew projectile into the strangers hand. A louder clatter and both the empty weapon and the single bullet joined the rest at her feet.
“Oh enough” Vic called as he turned his head to regard the two women, exasperation clear in his voice. “She’s here to make us an offer Tish, not to hurt us stupid!”
The grip on the knife did not lesson as the stranger spoke again, the accent flowing thickly over her words. “May I sit down?”.
When no response was forthcoming Malik moved over to sit on one of the two distinctly utilitarian metal chairs that partnered a metal surfaced table, the only furniture in this space other than the bed.
Crossing her legs she smoothed imaginary creases from her coat before removing her gloves and folding them over her knee.
Realising that Tish had still not snapped out of her current state Vic slid across to sit on the other seat at the table.
“Charming little place, loving the desperation vibe”
Malik ignored the sarcastic voice as she regarded her surroundings. Single room with kitchen area and a bed in that classic confg the station’s estate agents would laughably classify as ‘compact studio’ habitation. Door to the side which, from the smell, housed a toilet and shower. Double mattress on the floor, dirty linen, stale food and the lingering aroma of male sweat. Take out containers in the sink and empty stim vials near the bin attested to the lifestyle of the room’s occupants. A few personal belonging and cheap looking clothing overflowed from a refuse sack in the corner.
“Namas jaatreer, my name is Malikora Moriga-Tay and I’ve come to make you an offer”
“Sister?” Vic questioned, a puzzled look on his face. “She’s not your sister.”
“I know that dhedus priftijyl, but I am at a loss as to what to address her as we have not been introduced no?”
Recognising the prompt in those words Vic leapt to his feet and, in a theatrical flourish took a deep bow before turning to flash his sister a grin. “Miss Tay, may I introduce my sister Miss Tah’ishkel Vrakklow?”
Smiling at the boy’s enthusiastic gesture, Malik nodded her head before repeating her greeting “Namas jukhasaru Vrakklow”.
With the realisation that no attack was imminent Tish circled round to stand protectively behind her brother, the table’s width separating them from the stranger.
“As I said to your brother, I’d like to engage his services in a business matter. One that I wish to make beneficial to all parties.”
“Oh just cut the shit and tell me what your selling?”
“Selling?” Malik repeated, not understanding the question
“Yeah selling” Tish replied, anger simmering under her tone. “Another bullshit dealer in a shiny suit”
Hearing the aggression in his sister voice Vic attempted to explain “No no Tish” he stammered “She’s a real life capsuleer!”
“I don’t see no fucking ship!” Tish snapped back.
“She has the implants”
“So do a dozen jumped up show off shits every other night in the club....fake implants but real arseholes.”
“She bought me dinner! She killed three men without trying…..and….and she has a tail!”
She cast him an incredulous look at that “Only three? Oh great, a Gallante body mod freak, a confidence trickster and a murderer….just brilliant….bring some blood raider's back next time yeah Vic, your such a dumb kid sometimes”
“Well this is new”
Malik watched in fascination as, having convinced herself of the situation in play, Tish started to busy herself around the room. Scooping up discarded clothes she seemed to be in search of something clean to wear.
“The Amarrians are bad enough with their bullshit religion but at least they are honest when they preach their shit” Tish fumed as she stuffed a halter top into her bag, deftly catching the overspill of make-up that attempted to cascade out. “But you, picking on some desperate kid for twisted kicks or other is just fucking unreal” before sitting down on the mattress to lace up her boots.
“You do have a ship don’t you?" Vic’s voice added questioningly
“There’s nothing for you here, we’ve nothing left you to steal”. Tish added bitterly as she stood and attempted to comb some of the knots from her hair with her fingers before twisting it up onto her head.
“Is it a big ship?” Vic continued, his sister’s aggression dragging doubt into his words.
Bending down she scooped up the components of the strangers discarded weapon before dumping them onto the table’s surface with a metallic clatter.
“C’mon Vic, I’ll get ya a hot roll on the way to work, but make sure you clear out of here early ok? The Nerrabor is due back tonight so I’ll have….company and you’ll want to be scare. And stay away from snakes like this one, nothing for nothing in this life remember ok?”
“What if I told you that it didn’t have to be like this, that I could help you both?
“I’d call you a lying whore. Nothing for nothing.”
She waited at the door as Vic reluctantly pushed back his chair to join her. Pointing the kitchen knife to emphasize her point
"I’d better not see you again, or next time you’ll need more than a fancy piece to get out of here upright, Jax and his boys will make sure of that. Maybe I’ll let them know that a slaver or pusher or whatever you are has been sniffing around? Maybe he’ll reward me?"
Malik kept her gaze level and expression passive as she asked softly “And would you want any more of his rewards?"
She glared at her for a moment before pushing Vic out into the corridor. “Whatever, just don’t make me set the dogs on you freak, best be gone before they come looking.”
Without looking back Tish casually tossed her makeshift weapon back into the sink before pushing the door closed.
Alone, Malik sat quietly for a moment, deft hands worked quickly to reassemble and hide her pistol away.
She laughed out loud as the auto lights in the room went out.
“Well, that could have gone better…some people just don’t want to be saved it seems”
“That may have been the wrong approach” she voiced to the empty room.
“You think? Best make other arrangements”
She shook her head at that thought. “No, I’m not done here yet….we just need a different approach.”
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Elisk
Inner Circle
Posts: 29
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Post by Elisk on Jul 27, 2014 7:34:37 GMT
The wishes is my favourite series so far! They used to have 1001 nights and Sheherazade, but we have Malik and her tales. tails too  Unless these are not stories and actual events?! Oh gods if so dont be shy asking for my help mahisha, I know how to shoot a weapon too |
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 27, 2014 7:47:31 GMT
Events....all occur as I skip along....I'm a busy bee when not out shooting snakes with you all.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Jul 27, 2014 12:13:04 GMT
“Was it worth it?”
The question lifted her attention from the report in her hand and back to the man waiting patiently for his answer.
“But of course” she replied. “Information is expensive, and an edge is hard to obtain….and even harder to maintain.”
“I’m not concerned at the cost, it’s the loss of the favour that bothers me” he replied, frustration edging his words as he took a seat at her table. “Would not have been more prudent to resign this matter with the Taki bitch to history and return our focus to more…..lucrative affairs?”
Allena regarded her associate a while before replying, her words gaining the attention of the rest of the group as she carefully replied.
“As I have said before, our objective to gain leverage over a prominent member of the Intaki council and thus aid our employers in their efforts to gain a stronger position in the region was a sound plan, flawed only in its execution.”
“The error of judgement and subsequent underestimation of our quarries…let’s say ability, was my mistake.” Shifting her position she crossed her legs. “Unpleasantness aside I must applaud her ingenuity in looking to her own protection, and be thankful that she retains enough humanity to not have ended us all in cold blood, which is often the remit of her kind as you are all well aware Kartaja.”
“So again, why not just cut our losses?” he replied, turning briefly to check on their progress via the mess rooms info screen.
“I believe there is still the potential for profit here. The original goal is still an achievable reality…but now we have the added incentive of finding out why she killed our friend.”
“I’m really looking forward to asking that question” Gruslock added from his seat in the corner, the cloth he held continuing to work at removing the blemish from the metal of the weapon he held.
“We also have the secondary goal of ascertaining the location and possible affiliations of a person of interest to the Serpentis, in its self a tantalising prospect.”
“So persuading the Vendetta Mercenary Group to declare war on her corporation aided us how?” asked Kartaja still annoyed at having to call in one of his precious favours on what was, in his opinion, a pointless endeavour.
“How else do you make an immortal run?” Allena asked? “Not even you with your considerable skills could you hope to beat just her alone, let alone with her company. Thanks to our efforts we now know where gods go to hide from other gods.”
“To what end?” Lisika asked quietly, raising her gaze from the book that had consumed her for the past few hours. “Revenge is such a petty thing Aleena, and too ugly to consume our time. Elaborate plans aside we could just try making contact and asking her. I’m not even convinced it was her hand that ended Vitzram Regalla.”
“Would she tell the truth if asked?” queried Allena.
“Would she lie?”
“Does it matter?” Gruslock added angrily.
Allena paused for a moment, brushing a stray hair from her eye before continuing. “Asking her is exactly what I intend Lisi. Though what follows for her will not be related to her answer. She made me look foolish in front of you and our peers, and for that I’ve something special in mind.”
“So I don’t get to gut her then?” disappointment clear in Gruslock’s tone.
“No, death is just a means of escape for them. We are sure she has made arrangements in case of unpleasantness occurring outside the safety of her cocoon. Life, life is the best way of ensuring compliance in her kind. Every living thing wishes to avoid pain or suffering, and even the strongest can be made to crack. An uncustomary smile appeared on her lips. “Besides, I suspect our target is not exactly stable, a push here or there is all it takes….roll a pebble to start a landslide.
“As long as you don’t bring the mountain down on our heads.” Kartaja added darkly.
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wickonian
Inner Circle
I have big idea's! and no skill to implement them!
Posts: 79
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Post by wickonian on Jul 27, 2014 15:56:47 GMT
i remember reading this a lil while back, glad to see the finished chapter
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Aug 3, 2014 17:19:00 GMT
He sat with his head on the rail, probing the gap in his teeth with his tongue. It had been a couple of weeks since he had met her, and the cavities had healed over, leaving him with a gap in his smile. Tish had been mad at that, but there was nothing she could do. She told him that he would get new teeth soon anyway to replace the small one’s that had been knocked from his skull the first time he pulled the gifted knife to defend himself. He still mourned the loss of that item more than the two teeth. The man had laughed at him as he had jumped in to stand there over Tish, screaming all the bad words he had ever heard and holding the small blade so tightly that his fists went white. The blow he received made the world fade backwards, like he was being pulled down a tunnel.
But at least the man had left them alone after that. He’d watched him leave through the stars in his vision and the blood and pain in his mouth. He’d watched the man pick up his precious dropped knife and spit at Tish before walking away.
He hoped he would see him again one day, when he was bigger.
The bustle in the concourse below continued as he rolled his gaze over the throngs of people, alone on his gantry as usual. He half hoped he would see her again down there, that she would come back and do as she had promised.
Tish had gotten mad in the end at his constant questioning, so now he kept his hope to himself for fear of upsetting her again.
He passed his eyes over the latest rush of people exiting the hanger deck before glancing back to follow a pair of new arrivals. The smaller of the two was hooded, a women from the style of cloak. The big guy loomed over her, using his frame to barge people out of the way and speed their progress forward. There was something wrong with the way they were dressed he noticed. Their clothes were plain and not out of place…just too….new, that was it. The man’s fatigues lacked any of the stains or patches that should accompany them here, and his eye glasses looked too expensive for his attire. The lady was far too neat to have just exited the third rate passenger transport that had berthed. The vagrants, refugees and passengers all carried their positions with them in luggage of some kind, and these two brought nothing more than the clutch bag on the ladies arm and the shoulder bag the man wore slung across his back.
He tracked them as they made their purposeful way through the crowd before disappearing off towards one of the main distribution hubs that provided access to the other levels of the station….at least for those with the correct documentation or sufficient funds anyway.
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The goblet was empty again he noted with irritation.
The data pads information scrolled past his gaze. “This is a dangerous prize you seek.”
“There is profit in this risk” was all the stranger offered in response.
“Still, even for one of these I think the trouble is perhaps not worth the effort?”
“The offer on the table compensates you generously for your…assistance in this matter.”
He paused on this for a moment as the serving girl poured out another generous measure. Licking his lips at both the smell of the liquor and the site of her naked shoulders he watched as she returned to kneel again in her place at the side of his lounger. Her eyes remained downcast as he reached out to touch a shiny ebony curl.
She suppressed the shudder of revulsion his touch raised in her as she attempted to focus her attention on the swirling gold patterns of the carpet on which she knelt.
“Why do you risk the wrath of these monsters?” he asked casually, curling the girl’s curly lock though his fingers before raising them to his nose to inhale her scent.
“Our motives in the affair are none of your business.”
The stranger was beginning to annoy him now. Since the audience had started this one had remained stubbornly and rigidly seated, as if contact with the plush coverings and upholstery of the expensive imported furniture was to risk some kind of taint. All attempts at refreshment and offers of hospitality, so readily accepted and vigorously enjoyed by his usual associates, had been firmly refused.
“And what will you take from this prize if you win it?” he asked casually as the auto incense burner discharged another fragrant cloud of smoke to perfume the otherwise stale recycled station air.
“Leverage.” was the single worded reply.
“And this is more valuable to you than the item itself? Interesting. Perhaps I should acquire this item and its information….cut up the middle man as your kind would say yes?” The threat hung clearly in the air, though the stranger made no move to acknowledge it.
“Unhindered access to the station, a quiet place to store our equipment and carry out our….interview, and some of your dogs to chase our quarry down if it runs, that is all we ask. In return you receive the gratitude of my employer along with the targets ship and all contained assets. You also get to keep the prize once we are done with it.
I’m sure a man with your connections will know of buyers keen to service that kind of kind of specialist market.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then our business is concluded.”
The strangers black reinforced jacket and boots creaked as he slowly stood to his full height. “I would add though Mr Jax, or Mr Jaksuri Gellone, Mr Jayk Jameel or whatever other name you choose to hide your fat carcass behind that, should I leave here without a deal…” his eyes narrowed as he noted the increased amount of sweat on the fat Amarrians brow and the slow movement of a chubby digit towards the data pad on its lap “…or not leave here at all” he added calmly, “that the full dossier on yourself and your holdings, associates and assets will be distributed to a number of interested agencies within the hour. I’m sure you will have success negotiating favourable terms with whatever the Sani Sabik send to see you.”
Tish could not suppress a half smile as Jax recoiled visible into his cushions at the threat of Blood Raider attentions. “No no no” he stammered “there is no need for any such unpleasantness. I will be happy to assist you in this matter and accept the most generous terms you offer.”
“I knew you would see it our way” the stranger added before turning towards the door. “Make arrangements and expect our ships arrival in the next few hours.” With that, and a curt nod of the head, the stranger left.
Tish glanced up again as Jax, flustered and thankfully distracted, began to stammer out instruction via the comms screen embedded in his seat. She cast her eyes once more over the discarded datapad on the table and, recognising the face on the screen as that of the supposed capsuleer she had recently insulted in her home, wondered if it was perhaps too late to take up the offer now?
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Dran turned the corner and stepped back to be engulfed in the deep shadow offered by the retail units curve and low roof that soeffectively blocked the glare of the stations lights. Satisfied he had successfully shaken the two goons sent to track him back to his quarters, following his meeting with that slug of a man Jax, he removed an encrypted communicator from his pocket and keyed in a simple message. A few seconds later he received the answer he had anticipated on the devices blue tinted screen.
“Showtime” he said eagerly to himself as he headed deeper into the station.
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She blew on the surface of the tea, as much from habit as to cool the liquid as she stared out of the full length window into the green tinged void beyond. The datapad on the tables sculpted glass surface displayed the brief but concise message she had been hoping to receive for some time. The request for a meeting had been accepted, the venue selected, and the date now just a week or so away.
“It’s a long way to go for a meeting, far into P'vrevaghar space. A dead end system too.”
She liked it here. The establishment was reassuringly expensive, the clientele refined, the décor decidedly Intaki. The Dadaayaa tea was also freshest she had tasted in a long time, its delicate flavour only enhanced by the rooms soft lighting and ambient music.
“It’s good to be home” she thought as she savoured the drinks familiar bitterness on her tongue.
“Especially as the meeting will almost certainly be some kind of trap”
She ignored the voice for now and concentrated on the moment. Seated with her back to the room she none the less felt comfortable and secure. The bistro’s curved windows looking out to space gave her a perfect view of the room and its entrance via their reflective surface. The few mainly Intaki patrons were engaged in quiet conversation and, as per this levels security policy, were assuredly unarmed and thus not a threat to her.
Since deciding to come back to the system of her birth she had allowed herself the ritual of visiting here once she had docked. The genteel surroundings allowed her to gather her thoughts and calm her mind before pursuing the more taxing endeavours her occasional self-imposed exile required of her time.
She watched as a waiter made his way from table to table, asking each time if there was anything else required by his guests.
“Namas jukhasaru” he offered with a slight bow as he reached her side. “Is there anything else you require?” If her casual attire, gently swinging tail or clearly visible capsuleer implants offended him in any way he of course made no indication.
“Dyanvada tah, naa” she replied with a courteous nod of her head, the glass pot of tea not yet half done.
The waiter retreated away as two new figures entered. Gallente naval officers by the look, they stood together at the flowing, delicately carved wooden bar, their cheerful conversation a little too loud against the conservative background.
“It will be the blonde one this time I bet.”
Responding to that thought she allowed her eyes to settle on the pairs reflections as, true to form, they appeared to be deciding amongst themselves which should be the one to approach her first.
“He’s cute, aside from the uniform of course…we’d make beautiful half-blood babies together” the voice teased.
She made no reply as she raised her glass for another sip and watched the blonde one make his way across to her table
“Good evening Miss, may I join you? came the standard first question.
“Krpaaya” she replied, indicating the free chair at the table with a movement of her glass. “Please” she repeated as a moment of confusion crossed his eyes.
“Your Intaki I guess?” He asked as he took the indicated seat. “Our friends said this was a good place to meet your kind….Intaki ones anyway….My names Robann, .so what brings you here if you don’t mind me asking”
“Oh please….really?....so pretty but so bad at this….be nice now and don’t scare him off.”
She looked at him through her fringe for a moment, his green tinted eyes radiating apprehension tinged with anticipation. She held his for a gaze for a handful of seconds before shaking her head gently and answering with a sigh “samana loqon aavjatar……… I’ m sorry Robann, you seem nice and all but I’m too tired for this right now. Please leave me in peace to enjoy my tea, and my own company.”
“Ah bless, you embarrassed the boy….the eyes show the soul?.....you think some real p'vadah sometimes….can’t we take him home anyway?”
Disinterest clear in her tone, Robann quickly got to his feet. Good breeding and an expensive education came to the fore a he straighten his uniform and made an apology before quickly walking back to the wide grin of his friend.
“That was a waste….Its cold in new quarters, the sheets always feel a little damp…he could have warmed us up nicely you know?”
She stared down and tried to see patterns in the few tea leaves that swirled around the base of her glass “I sometimes wonder if you really a part of me at all” she thought “you know that’s not to my taste”
“Forget that, and get your head straight….we’re going to need it….even those tea leaves couldn’t have foreseen this one”
A new figure had entered and was making a bee line straight for her table. It moved to stand beside the recently vacated chair before lowering the hood from the travel cloak that had obscured its face.
“Namas Malikora, a pleasure to find you here”
She continued to stare at the leaves serenely circling around the bottom of her glass “Namas kretat Allena.”
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Elisk
Inner Circle
Posts: 29
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Post by Elisk on Aug 5, 2014 7:07:56 GMT
Keep continue like this and you'll inspire me to write too I'm just kidding not gonna happen |
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Post by Vallen Wraith on Aug 5, 2014 17:31:22 GMT
Quite Nice I do like it so far. It would be interesting if you were to.... lets say add some fellow Corp members into the story (winks at Elisk).
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Post by Vallen Wraith on Aug 6, 2014 21:18:06 GMT
Now that I have read all the tails this part is defiantly my favorite. I would love to see the situation flushed out more, as I am not sure if I am missing something that might have been included in your other writing. I am catching up on the other stories though so good luck and keep writing.
Cheers!
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wickonian
Inner Circle
I have big idea's! and no skill to implement them!
Posts: 79
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Post by wickonian on Aug 6, 2014 21:56:57 GMT
malik has written herself into some other stories as well, it's worth checking them as well (totally not a shameless plug there)
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Aug 7, 2014 12:08:42 GMT
Oh Jonas, you make me sound like a shameless story whore....nice plug though Vallen, let me know if you find and gaps in my tales. Malik |
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Post by Minerva Serekar on Aug 21, 2014 1:22:50 GMT
holy crap theres more to teh story, i though teh first post wa sit...wierd, i need to get reading!
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Aug 21, 2014 12:05:58 GMT
Oh Min....all my hard work scribbling for you and you don't even notice....sigh.
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Post by Minerva Serekar on Aug 22, 2014 4:53:30 GMT
i feel a great deal of shame yes, forgive me oh creative one...I am unworthy!
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Post by Minerva Serekar on Aug 22, 2014 5:28:25 GMT
there, all caught up, sigh, sorry, i'm just so used to you posting in seperate pages that i guess i messed up
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Sept 6, 2014 16:29:42 GMT
The leaves held her attention as they slowed their dizzy dance around the bottom of her glass. “Please have a seat Allena…..may I offer you some tea?”
The chair made quite a noise on the polished stone floor tiles as the woman in question pulled it into place.
“No, but thank you….the last drink we shared did not agree with me” Allena answered, arranging her clothes to sit neatly.
“Ah true” Malik replied, enjoying the reference to the laced vintage Claret that Allena had unwittingly consumed during their first fateful meeting. "Besides, Dadaayaa tea is quite toxic to those non Intaki not accustomed to its bite”
She lifted her gaze from the table at this and watched as Allena smoothed out her dress and arranged her hair, methodically putting each loose strand pulled loose by her cloaks hood back into its proper place.
“Can I assume then from your presence here that you will not be attending our scheduled meeting next week?” Malik asked casually as she chanced a quick visual scan over the rest of the room. No one else had appeared alongside her guest, and none of the other patrons appeared to be paying any heed.
“I’m quite alone” Allena offered as she noted her companions glanced assessment of their surroundings "here at least” she added in her usual reassuring tone.
Feigning a complete lack of concern Malik relaxed into her seat, safe in her sense of control over both the surroundings and conversation. “So, I guess you didn’t fly out to Intaki space to share tea and compare fashion notes… lovely as your cloak and oh so rigid Calamulav dress sense is and all?”
Allena of course ignored the derogatory jibe with her simple answer. “No, we have unfinished business you and I.”
Malik considered her response as Allena waved away the servers proffered refreshment. He stopped and carefully refreshed her tea with hot water before withdrawing to serve another customers request.
“Kiahm hiadhard, need I remind you that any unpleasantness from our last encounter stems from your actions….you after all requested our meeting and it was only through the precautions I took I that I avoided a regrettably situation for myself and my family”
Allena shifted in her seat, the reminder of her failure to correctly read her target having almost cost her and her colleagues their lives. “True enough, and had we parted ways after those events and never again crossed paths I’d have been satisfied.”
Malik offered a shrug in reply. “So why follow me here?”
“You killed a friend of mine, and, intentionally or not, highlighted my failings to parties who do not respect weakness in their chosen associates. So this is mainly for him and the 226 other souls you needlessly butchered when you destroyed their outpost”
Allena felt a flush of anger begin to rise as the red haired egger sat forward in her chair and laughed at her statement.
“Oh Kaintra Allena, I have killed thousands of people….brothers, mothers…sons all to someone. Which of the deaths for which I am certainly guilty is the one to drive you after my head?”
“Vitzram.” Allena replied sharply. “Vitzram Regalla was his name.”
“Vitzram?” Malik made an act of trying to place the name as she considered the best way to reply. “The agent mother contracted to investigate our dark little family secret? Yes I remember the name, but not the man.”
“You went out to silence him before moving on to kill us out of some kind of twisted revenge.”
That actually caught Malik off-guard, a fact made clear by her tone as she replied. “Kill you? I actually wanted to talk him into letting me hire you!”
Allena waved that idea away with a well-manicured hand. “Ridiculous. You failed to get the info you needed from him so you killed him and then had your pet cyborg force another of my friends to contact me with the intent of luring my crew and I to our deaths.”
“Ah, beloved. Such an intricate web we apparently weave.”
She idly ran her green painted thumb nail across the glass table’s surface, producing a clear scratch in its surface flecked with emerald colour. “If I had wanted to kill you this conversation would have been much shorter.”
Allena stiffened imperceptibly to all except the capsuleer as she recognised the danger encased on the tips of her companions fingers. Her voice remained confident as she looked up from the tables damaged surface. “So now you will provide the intel I need to repair my reputation with my employer of choice before settling your debt for Vitzram”
“I don’t think so, we have been down this road before. I’ll not be leverage for you to gain influence in my home system….and as for debts….I’ll pay for the deaths I have caused in time….though your friend was not amongst them.”
“So you say. But now here is the truth of it. Several minutes ago my colleagues performed a very subtle and painfully expensive hack to this stations data core. As of now your security status to the Federation in this particular system alone has been lowered to that of the worst war criminals in the cluster. As such, should you attempt to access funds, communication channels or seek aid from the authorities you will find yourself detained and subsequently handed over to….let’s say temporary officials for justice. Allena smiled as she continued “Station security will be on the lookout for the wanted mass murderer Malikora Moriga-Tay. It has quite the ring no? You will find no aid there.”
“If you run or hide away from the central areas then the less law abiding citizens of this station have been informed of your value and incentivised to hunt you down and deliver you up. You will find no hiding place here.”
“Ironic that the place you come to feel safe is the one place you are vulnerable don’t you think?”
Allena scanned Malik’s face for a response. Seeing nothing in those unblinking blue eyes she returned to her matter of fact tone. “To save time and discomfort I’d suggest you sit still and enjoy your tea while you are still able….but then I know you’re probably going to do something rash as is your nature.”
Malik closed her eyes for a second before carefully setting her cup down. Leaning forward so as not to be over heard she replied quietly ““You’re taking a big risk here…you know I could kill you now and take my chances right?” I’d be in my rights….you come to my home system and threaten me so.”
“You could.” Allena agreed “But the hired help cares nothing for me and will hunt you anyway….turns out you have value in that pretty skin of yours. Plus I know that, when in your own mind anyway, you’re no cold blooded killer of unarmed women.”
“Yet she accuses us of killing a station full to get to her friend? Caldari….no sense of irony”
Reaching into a leg pocket Malik removed a pair of green kid skin gloves. “Well, I guess I’d better get moving” she stated calmly as she pulled them on.
Pushing back her chair she waved at the waiter before taking a step towards the service area door, located off to the end of the bar. Pausing to brush out the fur of her tail she turned to throw one last sentence to her accuser. “Before we go Allena I’m actually telling the truth. The stations occupants were dead when I arrived. And as for who destroyed it….well that’s something I’ll tell you when we next meet up.”
Allena watched her disappear round the back of the bar and waited for a moment, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. Satisfied that Malik had indeed departed she reached into her bag and produced her communicator. “She’s on the move.”
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“You all know why you’re here.” Dran addressed the collection of men gathered in the dimly lit industrial space that currently served as a muster point for a motley mixture of Jax’s paid muscle, hired gangers and half a dozen mercenaries that Dran had selected himself.
Turning, he again pointed to the holo image of their target, its blue tinged projection hanging in the air before them. “Your job is to push her in the direction we want, and not to get into a fight understand? The faster we do it the higher the odds you will all survive long enough to get paid. Remember….persuade her to move, but don’t get close, that only plays in her favour.”
“All this for one pod bitch? Whazz the matter pretty boy, scared of the little girlie?” The comment raised a laugh from the tattooed gangers who made up the majority of those present.
Dran narrowed his eyes as he regarded Mattox, the mans scarred face and gang markings singled him out as the leader of this particular group.
“If I was a betting man I’d put money on her handing you your balls in a neat little purse should be lucky enough to get that close….though I’d wager she’d have trouble find them.”
Gesturing to the open crate at his feet he continued his instruction “use these weapons only, the stun rounds give enough of a jolt to make avoiding them a priority…and may even put her down if you get lucky….same for the grenades. Oh, and I’ll personally gut then throw out the airlock any man that kills her understand? Intact is the aim understand….damaged is of no use”
“I’ll have a use for her, damaged or not” Mattox chuckled to a chorus of agreement.
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The service door slid closed behind her as she leant her back against its cool metallic surface.
“P'foga!”
“You can say that again. When did we become so comfortable that we set and then walked into our own trap?”
The payoffs to the owner and staff of the tea shop during her numerous visits had been credits well spent. Their access cards and discreet utility entrance had at least allowed her to get off the level without being picked up instantly by the Federation security screens that protected the privileged minority that inhabited these high station levels.
“Allena will have set the hounds loose by now, and they will be counting on us avoiding the main areas and security personnel….that limits our options”
She made no reply as she slipped her fingers under the service panel door and prised it loose from the wall. The prepared bolts slid loose easily to reveal her weapon belt tucked into the space between conduits.
“Pity we only have 12 rounds though…..that machine pistol Min gave you would be really useful about now”
The green leather buckled easily round her waist she slipped her pistol from its holster and ejected the magazine to examine its load of 6 explosive micro flechette canister rounds.
“If I have to start shooting I doubt it will matter”
Slipping the magazine home she pulled her data pad from a pocket and brought up the stations schematics. The route from the high levels down to her ship formed a funnel, the number or possible options decreasing the closer she got to her goal.
“They will be expecting us there of course.”
“Do you have any other ideas? Malik replied angrily to herself as she studied the pads information. “Going to ground is not an option as they have time on their side. The authorities will detain us and our options to manoeuvre will be somewhat limited if we are trussed up in a cell. With access to our funds cut we can’t buy passage or buy another ship. And unless someone else here has a pod fitted stealth bomber sitting around I don’t rate our chances of avoiding navy patrols in system”
“So, race to Nemesis as quickly and stealthily as possible and kill anyone that gets in the way? Sounds like fun.”
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“This is totally fucked…..station’s massive and we are not welcome on levels above this one, plus there like thirty of us….how we supposed to block every route?”
Dran did not bother to ask who had spoken as he turned from consulting the professional mercs to regarded the fidgety gangers, most stood clutching their shiny new riot control shotguns to their chests in a vague mimicry of the professionals casual stance. The weapons pristine black surfaces contrasting with the men’s grubby attire and miss matched colours.
“There are only a handful of ways to access the hanger containing her ship.” He stated simply “All you have to do is wait at the position I gave you, then zap her if you see her or just push forward and stop her from doubling back if she gets through someplace else”
“So what you and these pretty boys with the hard man armour gonna be doing while we dance with ya girlie?” Mattox asked loudly as he pushed his way through the gang to stand squarely in front of Dran.
“We will deal with her if and when she gets through you and to the hanger.” He stated again, just as simply.
Mattox hacked up a mouthful of phlegm and spat onto the deck before grinning at the disgusted face before him “Ya gonna be bored them soldier boy….no way one little bitch gonna get through us on our own turf.”
Dran allowed himself a smile as he buckled his helmet into place.
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“Fuck that was close.”
Forty five minutes, two wrong turns and one close call had brought her to the hanger sub level. As she had guessed the route down had almost been deserted. Catching her breath she shifted her position slightly to wriggle the data pad free without making a sound.
“Your tame mouse would be useful now”
The map was becoming useless now the further into the underbelly of the station she progressed. She scanned back and forth a couple of times before giving up and returning the pad to her pocket.
“Looks like two engineering spaces, three sections and half a dozen hatches to the hanger entrance….bet you wish you’d let me bring some grenades like I wanted?.”
“Shut up.” Her voice echoed round the empty space.
It was the rat that gave her away in the end. The last two patrols had been simply. The low lighting in these maintenance tunnels and the ganger’s confidence in their collective ability to control their turf meant that most were not really paying attention. The fat brown rat though was obviously not on their pay roll as it scuttled out and squeaked its annoyance at her presence…the sound being sufficient to attract the attention and torchlight of one of the three men loitering at this intersection.
“There!”
The shout was followed by a barrage of shots as the men reacted to the call, producing a haze of blue flashes and static discharge as their shots pummelled the bulk head around the space she had occupied just a fraction of a second before.
Two men raced off to follow as the third grabbed his radio to excitedly report the sighting.
Dran scanned over the data pad mounted to his sleeve before replying on open comms “Push forward and keep up the pressure, but not to close unless you want to become a wall stain…the rest keep a sharp eye out….things are about to get interesting.”
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She dropped from the air duct and rolled as she landed, coming to her feet behind the startled man. A hand pushed the barrel of his shotgun aside just as the other turned his intended shout into a gargle as the nails tore his windpipe free with ease. Stooping to collect his radio she bolted for the next access hatch before his body hit the floor.
“Come on now.....this is fun.”
She almost had to admit she was enjoying herself. Three more rapidly cooling corpses had joined her first, turning her flight into something more akin to a massacre.
“These beklaand have no discipline, it’s not even a challenge”
The constant comms chatter, their reliance on flashlights and their heavy footfalls in these tight dark corridors made her evasion and strikes both effective and lethal.
She shuddered as water again dripped on her head as she silently watched the three guards as the huddled around the doorway to the engineering space beyond. Having circled around she had decided to avoid the two main hanger entrances, and to ignore the drainage run that came up under the ships stand…reasoning that if the tables were turned that would be where she would be waiting with a loaded shotgun for anyone trying to be clever.
No, this was the best option. From the engineering room she could enter the hanger via an emergency access hatch which opened up to the hanger floor behind a large number of conduits and service pipes….plenty of cover from which she could move or shelter from whoever was waiting for her beyond.
“Pity we can’t have Nemesis fire a torpedo for us….that would make things interesting for any ashokshaj waiting on the other side.”
“And would likely damage our only escape option….brilliant idea.” She replied to the thought.
“So….how do you want to go through these guys here?”
Malik rested her hand on the bag of toys she had liberated from her victims so far. “First we make some noise.” She said with a smile as she turned away into the darkness.
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The blast threw him onto his back. One minute he had been chasing that Taki whore down the corridor towards Hanger entrance B, following Turrel and Katz as he barked info into the radio. Then they had vanished in a flash of white and fire and now he was laying there staring at the ceiling feeling oddly warm and peaceful.
Mattox paused at the sound of the explosion and then cursed at it was quickly followed by a second blast. The screams that now blocked the comms channels indicated that at least one of his guys had survived the bitches attack. “Get a fucking move on!” he yelled as the rest of the boys hurried towards the sounds.
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She stood up carefully as the engineering space door closed quietly behind her. The room was already dark and became almost pitch black as she methodically killed the few ceiling lights that still worked. The remaining light emitted by the hanger bay maintenance equipment stored in here cast a dim orange glow, more than enough for her to navigate by as she wound her way across to the emergency hatch that led to the hanger and her ship.
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As the screams continued Dran removed his earpiece and waved signals to the half dozen men around him. They had felt the blast even through the hanger airlock and now silently made ready as they faced the door.
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Mattox slowed his pace as he approached the scene of the blast. The corridor he and the rest of his gang now poured down ran together to form the head of a T-junction before entering the larger space that lead to B access.
“Thought these were fucking stunners yeah?” He heard someone mutter as the smell of burnt meat and cordite rolled up to greet them. “Bitch rigged summet I reckon….toasted those boys.”
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She smiled as she felt the tremor from her surprise rumble though the bones of the station, and grinned as the second blast eviscerated those stupid enough to run towards the first.
“Idiots” she thought as she pressed the emergency hatch release and ducked through.
Her implanted enhancements and wired reflexes narrowly saved her as she threw herself backwards away from the torrent of fire that smashed around the space previously occupied by her body only fractions of a second before. A glancing blow from one of the stun projectiles actually helped to propel her back into the engineering room and away.
“P'foga!” She screamed as she landed heavily on her arse, the fur of her tail scorched and standing on end as the electrical discharge crackled around the hatches frame.
Lifting a leg she kicked at the hatch closure button, noting grimly the faint metallic clang as grenades bounced off its surface just as it closed.
A second kick smashed the control buttons, buying her some time.
“We just trapped ourselves in a dead end room, best move quickly before…”
She ducked instinctively as the explosion reverberated around the room, the charge she placed to cover her back having just killed whoever it was that had opened the access to this room.
“Oh so now we are screwed”
“Will you shut up?!”
Using the darkness she crawled quickly into cover, snatching a glance towards the door and counted 7 or 8 shapes ruthlessly step over the blasted remains of their colleague.
“Pity we used six of our rounds rigging those little bombs….perhaps we can ask these guys to form a line for us?”
Partly stunned by the blast, the darkness and the sight of their mangled friend the gangers spilling into the room were slow to realise they were outlined by the open hatchway and the chemical fire that still burned on the corpses parts splashed around the entrance. Even so they all ducked for cover quickly enough when one of their number turned into a red cloud and splattered them with gore as Malik’s shot found its mark.
She pulled back and circled round to get another shot as hard rounds bounced wildly around her.
“Guess playtimes over….we must have upset them.”
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“What the fuck? Who the hell is firing? I said unharmed you stupid shits” Dran raged as the sounds of a fire fight started to filter through the now clear comms network. Realising that it would all be over in the twenty or so minutes it would take him to race round to the other side he quickly waved one of the merc over and set to work on plan B.
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A second red cloud joined the first but earned her a hole in her calf from a ricochet and a gash to her cheek from a flying bit of shrapnel.
Limping back the reality of her situation was not slow dawning on her.
“4 rounds left, 5 or six irate gangers and one door….this could be better.”
She was forced to give ground again as a second stun grenade bounced across and detonated. Even with her head tucked into her knees and her arms wrapped around her head the shock rattled the teeth in her skull...
“Anyone got any more?” Mattox yelled over the reverberating din at the remaining men. “Fuck!” he screamed as the chorus of no’s answered his question. “Get ya asses forward ya green shits, there’s only one of her and five of us!!”
No one made a move though. They seemed content to fire wildly from cover and wait for more to arrive and bring courage in numbers.
Mattox grasped the reality though, if they waited too long that that stuck up soldier boy and his fancy merc’s would show up and rob him of his prise and the chance to make some serious isk for himself.
“Get ya ass forward!” he spat at the nearest huddled form as he hurled the startled guy forward.
He had the reflex at least to turn his head as the shocked man took two steps and disappeared in a blast of gore as well as the last.
“Fuck!!!”
He decided on a different tack. Wiping the guts from his face he crawled over to the next couple of men and yelled out over the gunfire “Ten thousand isk to the one that drags her back here by the hair! Ten thousand and first go you got it?”
Malik heard the shouted offer and yelled in response “Ten million to the one that shoots that cock and lets me out of here!”
“Nice offer….though it probably would have been the time to ask it before spraying them with their friends no?”
An increase in the volume of fire directed at her indicated more men had found their way to the action
Emboldened by his reinforcements Mattox waved for his men to cease fire.
“Seems your funs over Taki….you can’t have many shots left in that hand cannon of yours…and I’m willing to bet one of your legs that I got more men than you have bullets…..give it up and I’ll let ya walk outta here on your own two feet…..your choice but there be no way outta here than with me!”
“Look out!”
“Wow the guy was good” she thought as she turned her gun to face the man who had almost crept round on top of her before she heard him, the boom of its discharge crashed noisily in the stillness as the shot lifted him from his feet and sent him flying back to crash into the wall opposite.
“No splash?”
“Too close, safety feature prevents discharge if the range is too low…not much use blowing myself up now is there?”
“Well then, one shot left and no way out….any bright ideas?”
She slipped the mag out and looked at the last round for a moment before clipping it back in and sliding it home.
The barrage of fire restarted in response to her shot and thudded around her as she slumped to the floor facing the closed hatch. Raising the gun to her head she closed her eyes before answering her question
“There is always a way out.”
The hatchway opposite exploded in a ball of white noise and heat as she pulled the trigger.
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The smoke had barely cleared before the armoured figures barrelled through the entrance the demolition charges had rent. Taking up firing positions they presented a wall of plasteel armour and automatic weapons levelled at the surviving gangers and their bloody prize. Mattox had the sense at least to lower his knife and pull back from bloodied figure on the ground.
Dran stormed forward to stand over her, his weapon levelled at waist height to cut down the first man to move. Her tail had gone, now just a trophy in the gang leaders fist. The same for her custom pistol, belt….hell, even her sued boots had already disappeared into the mob. He knelt slowly to feel for a pulse, his expression clear as the outcome for the gathered men if he failed to find one.
Suddenly he switched his grip to take hold of a wrist and dragged her backwards across the deck towards the line of his own men, a trail of scarlet and charred green fabric marking their passage. “Medic! get busy before she bleeds out on me” he yelled without taking his eyes of the waiting pack of scavengers.
The standoff between the two groups continued as the medic started his work.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Sept 6, 2014 17:09:02 GMT
The orderlies grip on her upper arm was firm though not unkind as he led her down the corridor. Eyes downcast she followed the green stripe on the floor as her open backed slippers squeaked on its polished surface.
The stripe turned and ended suddenly at the foot of a door which opened inwards in response to a quick knock from her guide.
A hand deposited her onto a chair before accompanying its owner to stand in the corner just over her shoulder.
She crossed her ankles and brushed away imaginary wrinkles and lint from the plain white cotton dress she wore.
Glancing out from under her fringe she squinted in the sunlight that poured in through the closed window. Clouds scuttled past on their way to somewhere interesting as she looked at the pictures they made as they hurried by.
They were talking about here again, the three on the other side of the long table. They were always talking about her it seemed. She picked at the words that landed in her ears….progress….relapse…..difficult…..they were all pointy words that tasted bad so she let them fall to the ground.
The severe one in the middle, all angles and order, was becoming agitated at her lack of interaction. A smile danced across her lips for a moment and vanished before anyone could notice. The scratching noise started again as triple pens spilt their ink onto paper, the scribbles deciding her fate until this process would repeat at some future date.
A flash of colour almost caused her to turn her head before she managed to catch herself. It burned bright against the grey backdrop of tortured trees- their skeletal figures lined up before the building perimeter wall like shadow marionettes. Separated by the perfectly manicured sea of grass outside the window. She’d seen it a couple of times now, always in the edge of her vision, always moving away when she tried to focus on it. She wished it would go away and stop tormenting her….and perhaps take the incessant voice with it? Its words whispered on the edge of her hearing, insistent but incomprehensible. She had tried listening, but that just made the noise even louder and harder to hear. She knew better than to mention the orange flash or the voices. The coloured pills in the cup would just bring friends along and the after taste would leave her dizzy, weak and feeling sick as the walls and floor insisted on not remaining where they ought to.
No, best to keep quiet.
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“Is she aware of us?”
“To what degree? All of her senses are functioning normally, it’s just that input from the implants takes priority over the more traditional methods.”
“Is she a threat?”
The question brought the ‘Doctor’ out of his study to regard the intruder who now occupied his space.
“No, not at all.” he replied as he moved to stand over his charge. “Like a mirror dropped onto a hard floor the mind is in fragments. All the shards are here, but getting them back into the frame is the challenge.”
He bent to examine some readout next to the recumbent form on the table.
“Remarkable.” he stated to no one in particular “The implants pass information directly to the brain, bypassing the need for the reception, transmission and interpretation before action. The very thing that makes them so dangerous out there now allows us to manipulate their world here. It’s just a pity we get so few to practice with.” he added with obvious regret.
She regarded the still figure for a moment. Lacerations covered her body staining the coverings with red as the seeped. The blast wound to her skull was the worse, the glancing shot from her own weapon having opened a bloody furrow to the bone before semi cauterising the wound with the flash. Shrapnel had peppered the chest and legs, carving her up and smashing three ribs before collapsing her left lung... Damage aside she almost seemed to be asleep, the only movement the regular rise and fall of her chest.
“How long until I can ask questions?” Allena pressed.
“Questions? My remit was to keep her alive and quiet, not to extract information. If that was the aim you should have been more careful with acquisition…it took all my skill to stop her from dying.”
“Humour me” she replied without a hint of mirth.
“First we must build a frame work, arrange the pieces in the edge of the frame first yes? After that we can start to put the more intricate pieces into place, once we have examined them of course. You can interact with her if you desire, though it may be….disorientating for you?”
“Interact?” she queried
“Of course. Any external stimuli can be replicated for her mind to comprehend…it’s what makes this technology such an effective interrogation tool after all. What the mind perceives the body makes real after all….”
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She did not like the noise in the day room. Too many voices, all talking at once, it made her head spin. She moved round the main group and sat in her place by the window. A pen and pad of paper was placed in front of her, mumbled words demanding some kind of drawing effort from her time, which she noted and ignored as was usual.
"Hello again"
Someone new had come to bother her.
“Can I sit with you?”
Stupid question, she had no control on the seating habits of others.
“Have you seen it yet today?”
The voice behind her waited patiently until she was compelled to appease the silence with a barely audible “no”
“It will be along soon, you really should focus more you know?”
She did not like focus. Thinking too hard pushed the comfortable blur away, then the hard edge would cut into her mind and leave her with a headache.
“If you’re not going to use the pen can I have it?”
She made no reply as a hand reached out and the shiny metal pen disappeared from view.
She blinked as the daylight was blocked out. One of the rooms other occupants had decided to interact, as was their prescribed course, and was standing in front of her, its feet creasing the paper pad and leaving dirty marks.
She made no sound as it threw some comment or other that she cared not to catch before grabbing hold of her hair and giving it a vicious tug. Off balance she fell forward, catching herself on her hands before hitting the floor.
Apparently satisfied with this interaction the dirty feet wondered off in search of new prey.
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“You were somewhere you should not have been”
They came for her just after breakfasts morning medication, the colourful capsules still tasted wrong on her tongue as the hand led her along the green strip again to another small room of questions.
Perfume, pride and bitterness where the ladies names in her mind as she again sat on an uncomfortable chair under a stranger’s scrutiny. She apparently had some authority as her snapped request for privacy was followed by the hands departure.
“You went there to set the fire to the place, you like fire don’t you?”
The lady had answered her own question, so no reply was needed.
“You let yourself in and wandered around until you found who you were looking for…then you killed him…in cold blood”
She was getting angry now
“You killed him, but not satisfied with that act you then set fire to the building. With all those people inside, you went back down and set fire to the lobby and all those people burned.”
“All of them”
“You disgust me”
Her voice came out like brittle leaves, dried and old from a winter of misuse “The birds did it” she whispered in reply to the accusations. “They brought the match, they set the fire…and yes I watched. There were no screams though, the dead don’t care to scream…only the living do that, and there were none in that place when I went looking. I can make myself small so they did not see me as they flew in and lit up the sky.”
“You’re still saying you did not burn the station?”
She saw no need to answer that one.
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Aleena fumed silently, the information knawing at her control.
“It could be a lie.” she stated, half doubting her own words.
“Most doubtful, you need guile to lie, and that broken doll lacks the mental capacity for that at the moment.”
“I told you it seemed unlikely.” Dran added as he moved out of the shadow to stand alongside Allena and their prize.
“This helps us not at all. It means someone else was cleaning house.” Allena sighed as she felt her control begin to fray.
“So who sent for cleaners?” Dran asked
“More importantly have they finished?” replied Allena.
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“If you don’t pay attention you’re going to get stuck here for ever, and we don’t want that now do we?”
A question again, and she was not sure she knew the answer.
Again the flash of colour, bright orange though the window.
"Don’t lose it!" The voice whispered urgently
She followed it across the lawn….not a blur of colour but an animal, running across the grass…
Dirty feet blocked her view again. Their owner seemed to enjoy its hair pulling game and had returned to continue from where it had left off. She didn’t move as it burbled something, perhaps a laugh, as it reached out to grab her again.
The pen caught the light briefly as it jabbed into the descending palm. The squeal turned to a wail at it changed route and plunged into the nearest foot before disappearing from view
It took a few minutes for the screams to bring a reaction as the staff were used to ignoring the shouts and commotion of the rooms occupants.
As they picked dirty feet up from the floor they paid no heed to the quiet girl who had not moved from the place they had placed her.
“Who needs a sword?” she heard the voice laugh from behind her as the wails were carried away.
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“It’s not real though.”
“Her mind thinks it is, she can’t differentiate. That makes it even sweeter”
"I can do it over and over" Dran sounded almost eager.
“No….if you break the glass you can stick it back together but the damage remains.”
“Do I look as if I care?” he spat at the doctor in reply.
He looked across imploringly to Aleena.
“Five minutes, he gets five minutes – I promised it to him” she nodded in reply.
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“That’s not right.”
The keys rattled in the lock before her door opened.
The orderly stepped into her room. Even if she had looked up into his face she would not have recognised Dran for who he was.
Four minutes later she lay on the floor in a pool of her own blood and watched as the feet walked out, leaving her alone with her pain. He had talked to her calmly the entire time, though she had not been able to hold onto any of his words. He was angry though, she had not needed to hear to understand that.
The voice was screaming again in the back of her head, but she hurt too much to pay it any attention. Reaching out she drew the pillow close from where it had fallen, its surface stained red from where he had held it against her to muffle the blows.
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
She heard that one clearly though as she tried to fade out of existence
“Grab it, use it! It’s pure, it’s sharp and it’s real! Feel it, embrace it…let it give you teeth!
It hurts….
“It’s supposed to stupid you beuligtun sacuyaj! “
I spark of something. “Don’t call me that”
That’s it, wake up and remember who you are, who we are. Grab this feeling, get angry and then let’s get out of this place again.
The bloody girl who got to her feet was not the same as the one who had fallen.
“Now finally will you please just listen?”
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“Satisfied?”
Dran pulled the neural interface from his head and dumped it on the seat.
“Not even close” he hissed as he stalked out of the room.
Allena watched him go before asking her question without looking round. “Did he do any lasting damage?”
“Hard to say. It’s likely her mind just attributed most of the pain from her real injuries to the imagined ones he just dealt her.”
“I need her answers. I need her to live. And I need you to get her ready to move. The deal we struck with one of the stations….criminals….is going bad. Without his prize he feels hard done to and is looking for some payback. But I can’t hand her over to his tender care like this, and certainly not before she gives me all I need. No….we need to ready an exit and quickly.”
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She heard the doctors talking outside her door, and listened to the voices of the people she could not see
“They want to take us away somewhere else, somewhere without the window. Somewhere we don’t want to go”
“What should we do?”
“We need to wait until they go away, then we need to run away….as far as we can and hide so they can’t find us.”
She hugged her knees close “It hurts too much to run”
“You can do it, your stronger than you think. One step at a time, the one becomes many and then we are away. I know places here, deep down and away where they won’t look. “
“I….I cant.”
“If you don’t they will take you away from here, away from me. You’ll be alone again, and you don’t want that do you”
“No….not again.”
“Then be brave and be ready to go when I come for you”.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Sept 6, 2014 17:18:49 GMT
Well done if you made it this far through, now have a cookie |
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Post by Vallen Wraith on Sept 6, 2014 19:10:09 GMT
Allena felt a flush of anger begin to rise as the red haired egger sat forward in her chair and laughed at her statement. “Oh Kaintra Allena, I have killed thousands of people….brothers, mothers…sons all to someone. Which of the deaths for which I am certainly guilty is the one to drive you after my head?” Should Allena be changed to Malik?? unless Im being loopy, keep it up, and ....... where is my cookie, preferably not a blue one  |
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Nov 2, 2014 12:34:35 GMT
Minerva was having a bad day. Normally getting jumped by a couple of dozen hired thugs out for a little bloody fun and an easy pay off would have been a highlight...chance to relieve a little stress, get a little exercise and that sort of thing.
But not today. The flight to this backwater station had taxed her patience. The welcoming committee presence in this place, and the absence of her little red friend suggested that things were not going to go as planned and that someone she cared about was probably in trouble. That last fact made her especially irritable, and prone to violence.
Then again, she was always prone to violence.
A grunt from the slaughter house floor brought her thoughts back to the present. Turning her orange gaze onto the single living form her synthetic brain collated sensor data as she casually catalogued his injuries...pulse, breathing rate and survival chances. “Not a good prognosis I’m afraid’ she murmured to herself as she carefully stepped through the body parts and spilt fluids to intercept his optimistic crawl towards the silent hangers exit.
'I think perhaps this was not the outcome you anticipated when you crawled out of your bed this morning no?' The question went unanswered as she closed the distance on her target.
'I wonder how many times previously you’re murderous little group has jumped unwary travellers in this oh so quiet and out of the way spot? Interesting how my ship alone was instructed to dock here and not in the more popular reaches of the station…'
Reaching her quarry she bent slightly to grasp his neck before easily straitening up, leaving the shocked man dangling by the throat from her fist. Stepping over an unpleasant smelling puddle she moved towards one of the non-descript bulk cargo containers that littered the hanger and which, just a few minutes previously, had so unsuccessfully protected the ambushers from her wrath. She pushed the man up against the corroded metal of the container and waited calmly for the gurgling and thrashing to lesson before moving her mouth close to his ear to ensure she could be heard. 'Alright you fucker,' she sighed, her face inches away from his face, irises nearly incandescent in her rage. 'I want coherent and satisfactory answers to all of my questions, understand?' The gurgled reply was not recognisable as any word from her lexicon of languages and dialects, but the accompanying splatter of blood that sprayed her cheek as her unwilling companion attempted to laugh through shattered teeth told her how this was going to go.
Unblinking she slowly wiped her free hand across her face, turning the red spray into a smear on her light brown skin. She knew the look suited both her style and mood. 'Once more, and just so we are clear, a wrong answer will result in bad things for you. I’m not in the mood for small talk….so where is Malikora?'
'Go to hell, freak,' he muttered.
'That’s a wrong answer.'
The unfortunate man barely had time to widen his eyes in shock as her free hand curled into a fist and accelerated into a strike that pulped his face before exiting through the back of his cranium and crashing into the steel of the containers side. The echo from the impact continued to ring around the hanger after the headless corpse had crashed wetly to the ground at her feet.
“Fuck…oh well, he probably didn’t know shit anyway…okay, what to do, what to do,” Minerva paced, arms crossed, one hand holding her chin, it’s index finger tapping the side of her mouth, leaving a red brown smear in its wake. 'Malik’s not here, and she was supposed to be. She is not answering comms.'
Reaching out she made a connection with the stations main systems. “That little ship of hers is hard to find but I can at least see where she has been….gate logs are useful sometimes.” Billions of traffic ID’s flashed through her mind before being devoured and picked apart by the processors that constituted the cyborgs brain. 'There you are' she said as the info she wanted fell into place. 'Ah, so you went home did you? Not many stations in that system so at least I know where to begin. I hope you got drunk and lucky and are actually fine and just….preoccupied.' Turning to address one of the corpses she smiled a mirthless grin. 'Cos if she’s not fine, well...this little mess is going to look like picnic compared to the one I’m going to create.'
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Allena blinked a couple more times to try and clear away the purple spots in her vision as she moved unsteadily across her quarters to the comms panel by the door. The weapons discharge had been unexpectedly bright in the darkness of her room and the after effect was proving uncomfortable. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of burnt hair offended her sense of smell as she waited for the recipient of her call to answer. She tapped the still warm muzzle of the Viziam scrambler pistol against her thigh whilst regarding the slumped corpse untidily ruining the expensive carpeting at the foot of her bed.
The comms channel crackled into life 'Dran, we have a problem'
'No shit' came the shouted reply as Dran attempted to make himself heard over the clatter of hard rounds impacting against steel 'Locals just tried to storm our sec station at the entrance to the hanger and our guest facility'
'I assume we have outstayed our welcome and Mr Jax is attempting to facilitate our swift and final exit from his world. Its time to vacate this sad little place with our prize and to leave Mr Jax and his employees to enjoy a hollow triumph and a potentially short and painful future.'
'Are you ok? It’s a little fraught here but I can probably break out one or two bodies to escort you down to the ship."
The fastening of her cloak clipped securely as she slipped the pistol out of sight under its folds. “I’ll be fine, the assassin on my floor will have bought me enough time to get away....I’ll be five systems out before his masters realise just how completely he failed. Besides, sounds like you need all the men you have.'
Dran grunted his acknowledgement 'Be safe and I’ll meet you at the designated coordinates once I get my ass out of here and secure the package for transport.'
'See you there. Oh and Dran, make sure you kill a lot of them ok?'
'My pleasure.'
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'Its time to go now kaintra'
She made no sign of moving from her curled position on the floor. 'I’m scared and it still hurts so much'
'Don’t be scared, just take my hand and lets go somewhere safe away from these bright lights and prodding doctors with their sharp words and sharper tools'
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'Yes I understand……I can have her prepped for transport in maybe thirty minutes…no, not ten….thirty…..yes I’m serious. Ok ok, I’ll get on it now.'
In different circumstances he would have appreciated the skill with which the scalpel blade cleanly punctured the skin and separated the spinal cord between the second and third cervical vertebrae. If the designers of the room had seen fit to place the comms equipment facing into the centre as opposed to against a wall he may even of had a chance to defend himself or raise the alarm. But as it was the last thing he saw was a pair of bare feet pad silently across the room and exit into the empty corridor beyond.
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'Oh Malik dear, what have you gotten yourself into?'
The question was posed the the unanswering form of Maliks ship ‘Scarab’ as he sat quietly in his hanger under the falsified and humiliating designation of 'bulk ore transporter'.
Minerva stood motionless, processing the information she was rapidly receiving from the stations network as she regarded the ships sleek hull and the ugly damage the demolition charges had rent in the bulkhead nearby.
She smiled to herself as the info filtered through her mind. 'My My dear...you seem to have acquired the kind of security status I’d be proud of....and in a matter of moments too when it takes the rest of us years of glorious mayhem to reach such a level.'
The station net told her that her corp mate had suddenly become a wanted criminal but, recent accesses to her file revealed minute traces of tampering. Whoever had done this was a pro, but she had the advantage of having a quantum computer for a brain, as well as decades of experience in its use.
Moving around the silent Nemesis class ship Minerva stooped to inspect the damage to the hatchway before clambering through into the next room. The absence of light made no difference to her cybernetic eyes, as she assessed, catalogued and identified the signs of battle that scarred the surface of the room. Shell casings and impact patterns told her the number of combatants involved, their armaments and relative skill. The blood stains distribution, spray pattern and sizes told her how many had failed to leave this place alive. She moved to stand in front of a particular battered console, the focus of a lot of fire from the direction of the rooms main door. 'You really did piss the locals off didn’t you Mal?' mused Minerva as she examined the damage. Malik favoured a custom side arm using large calibre canister shot and Minerva grinned as she counted the tell tale ‘bang / splash' pattern that the explosive charges produced when they connected. Her smile turned dark though as she identified her friends genetic marker in one of the blood stains. She knelt quickly and placed her hand palm down on the stain to gather as much information as she could 'Yes, definitely Malik's blood.' Non arterial, but mixed with blast residue, small bone fragments indicative of a knife injury and small amounts of burnt hair. Drag marks showed that her bleeding form was moved towards the blown hatch before being removed. Discarded sterile dressing packaging, military grade, suggested she received triage treatment too. 'Well on the plus side you don’t give first aid to a corpse so I guess I need to keep looking.' An inventory of the the weapons used in this fire fight showed a mix of calibres, conditions and types.
'Gangers or scavs….my favourite'. Minerva turned on a heel and set off to find some answers.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Nov 2, 2014 12:50:50 GMT
Ok kin, this will be the last section to my Wishes thread. It's gotten way way too long to read so I will try and close it off and move back to shorter offerings in the future.
Malik
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Elisk
Inner Circle
Posts: 29
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Post by Elisk on Nov 10, 2014 7:01:31 GMT
Finally an end to your longest novel! but is it really the end? And Good job on finishing this with collaboration! Also you and Minerva make a good assassin team, I'll have to hire you two sometime for a certain...coup d'etat so to speak. |
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Post by Minerva Serekar on Nov 16, 2014 21:59:02 GMT
i happen to love a good coup, especially if i get the girl at the end
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