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| The Baroness; Space Station above Verbena | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 11 2012, 04:59 AM (37,506 Views) | |
| loneviking | Sep 1 2013, 12:23 PM Post #521 |
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Master of Disaster
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Chance removed a small circular device from his pocket and placed it on the table. It was shaped similar to a compass. The device had a red blinking light on the screen that showed a planet with the words greenleaf under it. The red dot was in a dense jungle area of the planet. He then placed a picture on the table of a young man in his early twenties with boyish features. Chance slid the picture and the device forward to you. Chance took a swig of his whisky and then lit up a cigar, not before offering you one. "This man is a servant that my client has bought and paid for. He escaped from my client and fled to the planet Greenleaf. He is being tracked by a bracelet on his wrist. If the bracelet were to be tampered with, it would cause a controlled explosion. I must tell you Mr. Krimson.. My Client wants his servant back, very much alive. I trust you will discretely handle this matter?" "This device will help you track his exact location when you get to Greenleaf. I will be providing you transport. Pay is 10,000 credits up front. 10,000 upon completion. Any questions?" Chance puffed a ring of smoke from his cigar as he awaited your answer. |
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| Krimson | Sep 1 2013, 02:14 PM Post #522 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimson took the cigar and pulled out a zippo from his pocket. He thanked Chase and bit the end off and spit it on the ground. He lit the cigar and took a couple puffs while examining the items given to him. Krimson knew the planet he would be going to and had a contact there. He examined the picture of the target, looking for any distinguishing features. The tracking bracelet would make things easy...alittle too easy. If all he had to do was go to the planet and locate the boy using his tracking bracelet why would they be paying him a large sum of money when they could just do it themselves. "Ya I have a question, what aren't you telling me about this servant of your clients cause last time I checked people don't normally hire a bounty hunter for a large sum of money to capture and return a servant! Not alive at least." Krimson asked as he leaned back in his chair. Krimson wasn't usually one for prying into his clients business but at the same time he liked to know as much about his target as possible. To effectively track someone you have to be able to think like them. To think like them you gave to know about them. Krimson liked to have every available edge. |
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| loneviking | Sep 1 2013, 02:23 PM Post #523 |
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Master of Disaster
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"This job is an ask no questions deal. All I can tell you is that it is a delicate situation that requires an experienced tracker. My client for a multitude of reasons cannot have any involvement in this." Chase pulled out a handheld device and started entering information on it. "I have 10,000 credits that I am prepared to transfer to your account. All you have to say is, Yes." Chase seemed a little irritated that Krimson had asked a question. |
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| stormbringer | Sep 1 2013, 09:52 PM Post #524 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Feeling naked without his gun, Turlough sauntered into the bar, keeping one eye on the barkeep and the other on the room, metaphorically speaking. It wasn't that he was expecting trouble ... okay, it was that he was expecting trouble. He always did. It was how he stayed alive, anticipating what could go wrong and having a response already waiting. Cautious well past the point of paranoia, that was Turlough. He ordered a beer, nothing fancy, figuring to watch the room for a while before deciding if he wanted to ask about work and in so doing, give away any information to these folk. He wasn't so desperate for a job that he'd take the first thing given. He certainly didn't care to give away his reasonings for being there in the first place unless he had some clue how the situation would go. He grunted a thanks when the barkeep laid the drink in front of him and took it to the far end of the bar, where he could plant his back against a wall and drink in relative peace and quiet, but not lose track of the happenings in the room. |
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| Krimson | Sep 1 2013, 10:42 PM Post #525 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimson took a drag of his cigar and let the smoke linger awhile while he glared at Chance. He contemplated turning the job down but then the money was too good to pass up. He would just have to be extra cautious. "Meant no offense. A man in my line of work doesn't survive this long without being a bit cautious. I'm sure you can understand." Krimson reached into his leather vest pocket and pulled out a card. He slid it towards Chance. "This is where you can send the money to." He took the items that were given to him and examined them one last time before putting them into his pocket. "When do I leave?" |
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| loneviking | Sep 2 2013, 12:17 AM Post #526 |
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Master of Disaster
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Chance took his card and slid it in the device. "The 10,000 has been transferred. You can reach me at 121.9.32 on the cortex. Once you secure the package, contact me ASAP om this handheld cortex." He slides the small handheld device towards you. "There is a small two man ship waiting for you in docking bay A - Airlock #27. Since I am unaware of your experience as a pilot, You have the option of taking one of my men with you to transport you to the location. You start now." |
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| Krimson | Sep 2 2013, 08:31 AM Post #527 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimson picked up the handhelp cortex device and looked it over. He noticed it had been taken apart at one point, more than likely to install a tracking device no doubt. He expected this and this wasn't the first time and nor would it be the last. He made sure it functioned properly and put it in his pocket. He pulled out a device of his own to verify the funds had been transferred as Chance had said. Once he verified they were there he quickly separated the funds and moved them to multiple bank accounts. "Looks like its all there." Krimson said with a smile. He poured two shots of whiskey and raised his glass. "It's a bit of a tradition I have to seal the deal with a shot." He drank his down and wiped his mouth. Krimson stood up and put on his cowboy hat. "Now if you'll excuse me I believe I have a ship waiting for me." He said as he tipped his hat. "Have your pilot waiting for me at the dock." Krimson knew how to fly a ship but he felt more comfortable having one of Chances men doing it. This way if something happened to the ship he couldn't be held responsible for it and have to owe Chance a new ship. He exited the private room and stepped back into the busy bar. He quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching him and walked to the front entrance. He took the key from his boot a d claimed his gun belt. He strapped it to himself and made his way to the docks. |
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| loneviking | Sep 2 2013, 09:17 AM Post #528 |
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Master of Disaster
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Krimson found his way to docking bay A. It was a vast circular room that had approximately 40 airlock connections or more. Finding his way to Airlock #27 he saw that it was already open. Chance must have already told his pilot that you would be on your way. Krimson saw the ship airlock door was open as well. If you were to step inside you would enter into a small cargo hold. The hold was mostly empty aside from a crate or two. It looked like it could carry comfortably about 10 large sizes crates. Straight ahead was a closed door. |
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| Krimson | Sep 2 2013, 02:29 PM Post #529 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimson stepped inside the airlock and looked around. He saw a couple of crates over to the side of the cargo hold and walked to them. Better check my gear before we get this party started.He thought to himself. He removed his six shooter from his holster and laid it on one of the crates. His griswold wasn't the most common weapon for a bounty hunter but it had served him well on numerous occasions. although it only carried six rounds Krimsons philosophy was if you needed more than six bullets to kill a man then you shouldn't be shooting a gun. He removed a couple of boxes of ammo and made sure his gun belt was full. He dismantled his gun quickly to analyze all the parts to make sure they were in working condition. After passing inspection he re assembled it and made sure it was fully loaded. He holstered it and looked around the hold again. He saw a door and walked to it. Judging by the open access port he assumed the pilot was already in the cockpit awaiting his arrival. He put his ear to the door and listened for a bit, hand on his gun just incase. |
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| loneviking | Sep 2 2013, 02:47 PM Post #530 |
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Master of Disaster
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The door slid open to Krimsons touch, revealing a corridor that led to a cockpit. The corridor had two ladders opposite each other in the center of the hallway, leading downward to a door. If Krimson was familiar with ships he would note that they were most likely bunks. A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and a thick mustache stepped out of the cockpit to greet you. He was of average build and was wearing a gray flight suit. "Mr. Krimson I take it? The name is Lanis O'Malley. Welcome to the Rogue" he held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. The cockpit was small and cramped. There were two comfortable seats with a large helm window that revealed the endless black of space. In front of the seats was a computer system that took up the remaining space of the cockpit and had several buttons and control systems. |
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| Krimson | Sep 3 2013, 01:37 PM Post #531 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimson shook his hand and replied "pleasure to meet you!" He looked around the cockpit and whistled. "Nice ship you got here." He took the seat next to the pilots and looked out the main window. You could get lost in the never ending beauty of space. He understood though how starring out into the darkness for years could drive a person mad. He had came across reavers twice and barely escaped with his life both times. Krimson took the device Chance had given him earlier and made sure it was still working. "I imagine Mr. Chance informed you of our destination Mr. O'Malley?" He said as he watched the blinking light of the tracker. "Ready when you are!" |
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| stormbringer | Sep 4 2013, 08:14 PM Post #532 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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This didn't seem to be a good place to be looking for work. So, Turlough got up, paid his tab, collected his weapon, and walked out of the bar, figuring to try his luck elsewhere. |
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| loneviking | Sep 4 2013, 11:55 PM Post #533 |
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Master of Disaster
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Aboard the Rogue O'Malley began his pre flight check and started flipping various switches. "Greenleaf is about 72 hours out. There is a galley if you get hungry, it's the hatch on the left in the corridor, the other hatch are bunks. Krimson, before we can take off, I will need the airlock door secured." The engine started to hum gently as he continued his pre flight check. Turlough - Baroness inner ring Turlough found himself wandering the inner rings of the space station. The area he was exploring was the lodging area for space weary travelers. The corridors were a bright white color and well maintained. A janitor in the distance was mopping up what seemed to be blood and paid you no mind. |
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| Krimson | Sep 5 2013, 04:14 PM Post #534 |
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Reavers Love Slave
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Krimsom got up and left the cockpit. He made his way through the ship quickly looking around as he went till be got to the airlock. He walked toward it, pressed a botton and watched as the airlock sealed. He picked up the intercom and informed the pilot that they were good to go. Krimson could feel the ship begin to lift off the ground. He decided to make his way to the galley and get something to eat before finding an open bunk to sleep in. He remembered the directions O'Malley had given him and found it pretty quickly. He looked around in the cuboards and found a synthetic meal to consume. Stuff tasted like dirt but provided you with all your vitamin, protein and nutrients you needed. Krimson finished his meal and headed down to the living quarters. He found an empty bunk in no time. Not a hard quest considering there were only 2 if them on the ship. He got undressed and pulled back the blanket in the bed. He retrieved his six shooter from his gun belt and put it under his pillow. He crawled in and was sleeping within minutes. |
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| loneviking | Sep 10 2013, 08:12 AM Post #535 |
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Master of Disaster
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<<Krimson Continued to 'A World on Fire'>> |
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| Tyson Hazard | Oct 16 2013, 04:19 AM Post #536 |
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Deck Hand
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It had taken Ty the better part of the morning to pull himself together. A heavy night of drinking and the morning's artificial light didn't mix, and now he was paying the price for not working that out. The small bunk was one step up from a prison cell, it only lacked bars, strangely however, Ty felt quite at home. He supposed that the small berth, graciously provided at a low cost by an old friend, reminded him of his old ship. He was never comfortable sleeping in larger rooms, to much space to think. He'd spent almost 3 months headed back and forth from world to world, garnering contacts, trading goods, making deals, and working in the protection details of well monied employers. All the while tracking Theda's killers. He was no closer now to getting an answer then he was when he started. It seemed less and likely that he would ever find the ones that ended her. Now with Baroness in a potential shutdown, he was trapped. All he could do is wait and drink, until the prospect of another job came in. He had enough saved to buy a ship, if he so desired, but good crew was scarce these days. Not to mention the complications of ship ownership. As Xandra had told him all those years ago, 'A ship needs two things to run, money and problems, and you can't have one without the other." "Sir?" The voice came from the corner of the small room. Ty whirled around quickly, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there, and suddenly realized two facts. One, his weapon was not on his hip, but hanging from the bare metal bed post, and two, the voice was that of a young lady who happened to be a bell hop of the small establishment. the fact that he was in his underwear wasn't something that occurred to him until after he began speaking. "Wha-, Hello?" He said using an overly manly stance to hide his underlying embarrassment. "Is there something I can- um, help you with?"Ty said in his usually deep voice as he grabbed a pair of pants lazily strewn on a chair near the door. "Um, A package arrived for you over the night watch... sir." The lady averted her eyes in an honorable fashion, but her embarrassment was not hard to read. She handed the man the package daintily and extended her hand awaiting a tip. "You know, you're actually lucky, there was a time that I had a strictly Luǒ policy at bed time." He said trying to make a joke. "It's 11:00 AM, sir..." the lady said plainly The humor of his joke clearly lost on her. "Well this has been, uh, fun?"Ty said as he gave a her nod to head to the exit. "Sure." the woman said in an odd voice, and left the room slowly, closing the door behind her. Not dwelling on the embarrassment, He tore into the package that was marked with his room number and name. It bore an odd post mark, and was wrapped in a waxy brown paper. Once open, he discovered a hand written note and a small ornate ring box. "Dear Dad,-" He stopped and stared at the words for about a minute, shocked into a mental silence that was unnatural for him. He wondered if this was all some insane dream, but then returned to the letter, tears forming in his eyes as he did so. Edited by Tyson Hazard, Oct 19 2013, 12:56 AM.
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"I was going to die for a cause... might as well live for one." -Ty 'Turncoat' Hazard. Click Here for Character Profile | |
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| Tyson Hazard | Oct 19 2013, 01:46 AM Post #537 |
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Deck Hand
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I don't know if you'll ever read this, I gave it to Jean, and she's promised that she will get this to you. Grandmama says that you can't come home. She said that you were a great soldier but had done bad things. I think you are the greatest space pirate to ever sail in the black, and that's why you can't be here, because pirates can't have families. I'll be leaving for boarding school on Londonium in a month, where I will be taught to be a proper lady Grandpapa says. Everyone in my class says I have the best diction, and my grades are second in the class. My birthday was last week, and I want to thank you for the gift, but I know it's not what you wanted to give me. Being Ten is much better than being Nine. Love Your Daughter, Caroline Dumonde ps. Be careful, and keep your eye on the other pirates. {Enclosed... eyepatch made by me.} Ty palmed the black and red patch of lace and synthetic cotton, and smiled broadly realizing just how well it was made. Still he had the use of both eyes, and while wearing it would have been a bold, if some what effeminate statement, he decided to just keep it in his pocket for the time being. Edited by Tyson Hazard, Oct 19 2013, 03:23 AM.
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"I was going to die for a cause... might as well live for one." -Ty 'Turncoat' Hazard. Click Here for Character Profile | |
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| Jack Wolf | Oct 29 2013, 11:22 AM Post #538 |
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The Misguided Hunter
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The foot falls sounded along the metal flooring, as his boots collided with the solid unforgiving surface each step normally would have echoed. Though with the noise of the crowd and the milling about of people around him, the sound of his steps as weaved his way through people never reached the metal walls to reverberate back. Noise, smoke, and dim lighting, towering walls covered in a verity colors, all with recirculated air. -Welcome to the Baroness- The man could not help but think to himself as he moved through the crowds, and smiled inwardly. With a quick turn he moved into one of the many many bars that lined the commerce ring of the old space station. Stopping briefly to look around the room, taking in all of the different faces that sat in seats or stood leaning against walls. Reaching he slid the round rim glasses back up his nose, and his brief pause once more erupted into movement. He walked to the bar, listing the people in his head that he had seen were carrying weapons; as well as listing those he believed would be hiding them. Each falling into a threat level category in his head, it was old habit or skill. Which ever it was though really was up to debate, thought if had lead the life this man had you would also call it a skill. He smiled at woman behind the bar leaning against it and reaching down to adjust the polished nickel 45 that set in the holster strapped to his thigh. More out of habit than anything really, no malice or worry lay in the single simple gesture, just muscle memory. ~Single malt Scotch on the rocks please~ were the words that parted his lips and moved in the direction of the woman behind the bar, as he pulled a long white tube from his shirt pocket and brought it to his lips; only to a second later to produce a silver lighter and set flame to the cigarette. Jack Wolf inhaled taking a long drag from the freshly lit smoke, before removing it from his lips, breathing in sharply, and lifting his head to expel the smoke from his lungs sending it into the air above. Edited by Jack Wolf, Oct 29 2013, 11:30 AM.
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| PMD14 | Oct 29 2013, 01:35 PM Post #539 |
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Lighthouse Keeper
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The young lady smiled politely, a muffled "Sure thing." coming from her lips as she was already off gathering a clean glass and a bottle of something special. The place was getting quieter by the minute - hell, the place never slept, but it was getting there - as the station clicked over to its 'night' cycle, mimicking the nearby Verbena timezones. Drink in hand, the young woman returned and flashed another smile, handing Jack the glass and taking the cash with her other hand. "Need anything else, just yell." |
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| Jack Wolf | Oct 29 2013, 01:55 PM Post #540 |
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The Misguided Hunter
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Jack smiled at the woman as handed him his drink and took the money, watching her walk away before sitting on a nearby stool and slipping a cred bill into the plastic wine decanter sitting atop the bar; with word TIPS written across the side. He brought the glass of amber liquid up to his nose, breathing the hearty earthy sent of single malt; just the trace of peat moss fragrance still lingering in the liquor never completely removed with age. The lights flickered as the station shifted its cycle, he grinned slightly as he reached down to his leg and felt the plasma burn scar on his leg through his jeans. His mind drifting back to the fire fight on Verbena all those years ago, he could not help but see images of the crew on Glory flit through his mind. ~Wonder how Ian and Sonya are doing?~ He said aloud more to himself than to anyone near him. As the bar grew quite his instincts kicked in, and he started to wonder about possible threats near him. Though he fought them back down, forcing himself to relax; if trouble came he would be ready. But no reason to push any issues, he told himself. Bringing the glass to his lips he let the amber liquid slip past his tongue, the pleasant burn sliding down his throat. He sighed somewhat contently, setting the glass back down on the bar coaster before taking another long drag from his cigarette Edited by Jack Wolf, Oct 29 2013, 01:57 PM.
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