|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 7, 2010 1:27:24 GMT -5
Kurt walked around Blades to his right side and held up the pistol. "Take it. If you're going to deliver justice, do it right."
Kurt waited for him to take the weapon, all the while scowling at the captain.
"The- the Hunter?!" the trando sputtered, hissing.
Kurt only smiled. His shoulder was throbbing like a bitch, but it could wait.
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 7, 2010 2:28:03 GMT -5
Blades' Yarrock high was lightening slightly now, so some of his common sense was coming back. But because a large amount of the blood rage remained, he felt his nerves being tread upon. Why wasn't it good enough for him to use his blaster pistols, why was Kurt making him use that stupid pistol of his when Blades already had his much more attractive pistols 'Lefty' and 'Shorty' ready to fire.
In a rapid-fire fashion, more images began to flash through his mind. But they were not of his past, but rather of the future. It all started with him pulling the triggers of his guns and disobeying Kurt. Then it flashed to an unknown amount of time later with Blades and Sticks in a bar fight against some thugs. Blades is hit over the head with a chair and is almost knocked completely out when he notices Kurt and tries to call out. But Kurt doesn't respond and Blades dies of a head injury. He has lost the game and Kurt has won.
"No. Better to do it. Better to make good with him now and make him trust you. That way, when the time comes, you will win the game instead of him." a voice whispered inside his head, vibrating off the sides of his skull and sloshing his gray matter about like a soda.
"Okay." Blades responded, apparently to Kurt but possibly to the voice. Not even he completely knew which.
In a few swift motions, Blades twirled his pistols on his fingers in such a way that they rotated back into their holsters when he moved them through the air. Once his hands were free he grabbed the pistol from Kurt's hand without hesitation. Blades pointed his elbow, extended his arm all the way, and pulled the trigger the second the pistol pointed at the captain's head. The lizard didn't even have time to beg properly.
The discharge of the bullet and the splattering of Skosska's brains on the wall sent more images through Blades' head. Ships being attacked in space, women screaming and men shielding their families from explosions. A pirate ship flies by, continuing to fire its lasers but then vanishes into thin air as if it never existed. The passenger ship also returns to its original state, the families are happy. The picture of Skossa's wanted poster appears, a stamp being rolled across it which reads "DECEASED". He has lost the game.
"Score one for me." Blades muttered handing the pistol back to Kurt, his gaze not leaving the hole he created in the captain's head.
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 8, 2010 22:55:54 GMT -5
Kurt took the pistol and dropped it back into his holster. He watched Blades carefully, searching his face for his reaction. Blades hadn't wanted to do it. Even hyped up on drugs, he hadn't wanted to. He didn't have the demeanor of a cold blooded killer, only one who saw death as a means to get on, grab another paycheck and a little more sex. He was too free in his work. Kurt could understand. Kurt could sympathize. He'd been that way himself once.
Except for the first kill... that one was colder than a stone in winter. He'd never forget that one.
"Blades, grab my forearm. I dislocated my shoulder out there on the walkway and we gotta fix it."
Kurt placed his own hand on his upper arm, gritting his teeth against the coming pain.
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 8, 2010 23:15:00 GMT -5
Finally taking his eyes off of the dead man in front of him, Blades' common sense guided him over towards Kurt. He grabbed Kurt's forearm without a word and prepared to put it back in as best he could recall from field medicine class. He lifted it into place and prepared to slide it back in with one swift motion. "Here goes." he breathed.
Just then, someone walked into the room and said in a scolding tone "What the HELL, Blades?!" Responding to his name, Blades turned his head away just as he slid Kurt's forearm into place. His eyes widened as he could hear the joint making a sickening popping sound. It sounded to Blades like the job had been done, but he probably should have kept his eyes on it to make sure it had been done right.
Looking rapidly from Sticks to Kurt a couple times, Blades finally dropped Kurt's arm and looked behind him at the dead pirate captain. "Uhhmmmmm..." the merc said sheepishly from behind his mask "Ta-dah!"
Sticks rolled his eyes from behind his mask and stepped forward. He rapidly flipped up Blades' mask, slapped him on the face and then slammed the mask down so it hit him in the chin. "MORON! I told you to SIGNAL, damn you! TWO PINGS!" he yelled, practically going into conniptions before looking over at Kurt "And I don't even want to know what you've done to this place! I don't even want to know who this dingus is! I've already loaded up a lot of stuff from upstairs that you DIDN'T destroy. Let's just go to the warehouse and load up some stuff on a skiff and get out of here! The ship can get the rest. Now come on!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 8, 2010 23:21:20 GMT -5
Kurt winced in pain and growled as his arm popped back in. He twisted it experimentally; everything was fine. He looked sharply at the newcomer and listened to his speech. Finally, he said:
"Your partner, Blades? Interesting. I wonder what he was doing outside the whole time? But I digress, we have work to do. You've got stuff to take out, get your ass on it because when I get done here, this place is gonna reach for the fucking sky."
Their work as a team was done; the bond was severed, neatly, like a pair of scissors cutting tape or a knife cutting an artery. He walked past Sticks and collected his helmet from the hallway floor, putting his goggles up and placing the helmet back on his head. "Let's get moving, folks. This train is starting up and it doesn't stop till we get to fucking hell itself."
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 8, 2010 23:47:12 GMT -5
The three of them left the captain's office, his dead, scaled body destined to be forgotten when the place was blown up. Blades, still reeling from the slap that his pissed off partner had given him did his best to focus his mind on ignoring the schizophrenic influence the drugs had over him. He followed Sticks the rest of the way, who seemed to know his way through the facility. He must have had a lot of time to explore when the guards were all diverted to protect the captain.
They went further down the seemingly endless hallway until the hallway widened and they came to a large metal set of double-doors. Procuring a plastic key card from his pocket, Sticks slid it in the card slot, which then proceeded to spark and fizzle before finally dying. The red light up above the doors turned green and they opened.
Once the enormous doors opened up all the way, the mercenaries stepped into the dark room before them. It seemed large enough at first, but once Blades flipped on the lights they discovered it was much bigger. And what was worse, it was filled to the brim with crates. With the amount of time they had left on the mission clock to get the merchandise to the drop point, it looked impossible to get it all out, especially if they had to make several trips.
"Well?" Blades shrugged, pointing to the room "Just what the hell are we supposed to do now?"
Sticks nodded his head and looked around, doing his best to think of something. After a minute, he spoke up.
"Okay. Okay. There's bound to be merchandise of all kinds in this warehouse right? All different cost values, right? Now, the pirates would only be interested in the really expensive stuff, but here's the thing. I'm willing to bet that our man has that same mindset. SO, we comb through the warehouse as quick as possible, get the binary load lifters to load it onto a skiff for us..."
"Ba-da bing." Blades finished.
"Exactly, so I need you on search duty. Look for anything valuable that's out of a crate. I'll look through the records and program the droids, just send me the lot numbers of anything you find." Sticks said, motioning to his earpiece.
"Roger that, bro. We still need to find a skiff, though."
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 9, 2010 0:32:49 GMT -5
Kurt mused about, listening to the chatter. "Skiff, no problem. Chances are they're probably in the back when not in use. Let's go fetch it, Blades. I can plant charges as we go."
Kurt walked down the stairs and eyed the boxes as he went. Fancy rugs, check. Elaborate weaponry, check. Exotic lingerie, check. He held up a bra made of some type of golden mesh material and chains and smirked at Blades. "Ought to give this to your girl."
He moved on and removed a charge of C4 from his belt, placing it on a nearby pillar. He flipped the activation switch to ON and fell in behind Blades again.
"What the hell are you on, Blades? You've got a wild fucking look in your eyes. Drugs, I assume."
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 9, 2010 21:00:24 GMT -5
Blades jerked his head back quickly and shook it from side to side to focus himself on taking down all of the lot numbers in his datapad so he could read them off. Realizing that he hadn't told Kurt exactly what he had put in his auto injector, he glanced over at him. He chuckled a little bit first, realizing how wired he must have been getting to view Kurt as a threat waiting to happen. Then he spoke, his voice now kind of ragged from all the screaming he had been doing.
"Yeah, it's a little surprise I whipped up for tight spots." he said "It's boiled down Yarrock in a high concentration. Just a few drops of this is enough to set a normal Zabrak warrior off for an entire campaign. But I've trained my body to withstand taking two blasts of it, 'stead of just one. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell my mother back there. He hates it when I take more than one. Says it's dangerous."
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 9, 2010 21:12:24 GMT -5
Kurt grinned. "Don't worry, he'll never know his baby uses drugs. Just don't overdose someday, got it?"
Kurt secured the next charge to the pillar and activated it. "I'm impressed with your performance back there," he said, turning around. "Not with just the captain, but the guards as well. I've... well, I've never been one to work in a team, but I have to say that if I absolutely had to, you'd be the fucking best when it comes to partners."
As he was talking, he heard noises off to left, the sound of shuffling feet and the sob of what sounded like a child. His smile vanished and he frowned, dropping his hand to his pistol. Making a hand motion to Blades, he told him to move forward and around what would be the center of the room.
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 9, 2010 21:52:30 GMT -5
Blades acknowledged Kurt and flipped down his mask with a heavy nod, his hands going for his assault rifle. He moved silently, step by step towards the large stack of crates in front of him and crept around it, listening intently. A high-pitched male voice spoke rapidly from behind the stack. It was only one voice, but there were definitely other people behind there as Blades had also heard the child sobbing.
But the language was strange. Unfamiliar. Even among the many languages Blades had come across and made a point of familiarizing with, it was unique. He caught the momentary mention of what he believed to be a woman's voice, but it was quickly shushed by the voice already talking. Taking advantage of the distraction, he got down on his knees and poked his head out ever so slightly at the bottom of the stack where they wouldn't be looking.
He noticed several adult humans standing up or sitting on crates. Two were women, one of them elderly the other about Blades' age he estimated. The third adult was the man who had been talking. He had seemed to have grown quite agitated and his hands moved rapidly helping to convey how frustrated he was. Just in front of him and to the right, in the lap of the elderly woman, sat a boy of about eight years. The woman hugged the boys face to her chest comfortingly but he didn't look sad or nervous so much as he looked tired.
As Blades was taking all this in however, the man's leg moved to the side and exposed another person to view, the little girl Blades presumed had been crying. She wasn't very old, five or six at the most but the problem was that she was now looking in his direction with widened eyes. Blades noticed this too late to hide, the girl tugged at the younger woman's dress and cried out a strange phrase, beginning with the word "Mamae!"
Blades quickly emerged from cover to preserve whatever element of surprise he had left. Just as he got out, he noticed the man was raising a pistol and reacted violently. He dropped his rifle, shoved the pistol aside and punched the man in the face before kicking him in the knee and headbutting him. Blades caught the pistol as the man dropped the pistol and crumpled to the floor, clutching his bloody nose. The little girl rushed to his side and grabbed his arm as Blades prepared to take aim "Non! Mec Dadae!"
Blades froze.
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 9, 2010 22:17:53 GMT -5
Kurt had his back pressed against the crates, peering around the side carefully, as not to be seen. He moved out a bit more as Blades made his move. He could open fire on them, they were all looking at Blades anyways. But he didn't. He was a killer, yes, and he was sometimes ruthless, yes, but he lived by a code, and he did not harm innocents. And as far as he could tell, they were not a threat in any way. He kept his guard up, just in case.
He coughed and cleared his throat to announce that he was there, then slowly moved around the crates to the front of the group. Some of them bore tattoos on their lower arms or hands, at least the man and the boy did. The women, however, did not. If they did, it wasn't where Kurt could see them.
He glanced over at Blades and the little girl, then back to the others. Just what the hell had they been speaking, anyways?
"Blades, don't quote me on it but I think they're slaves, or they're going to be. Notice the markings? They're heading for the market, I'm sure of it. They seem harmless and I don't think they wanna be here when I blow the shit out of this place... up to you what happens next, but I highly recommend you put that gun down."
His own hand reached for the handle of his knife, his eyes narrowing.
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 9, 2010 22:32:36 GMT -5
Blades saw that none of the rest of them were armed and quickly field-stripped the pistol before picking up his rifle. His mask was still down and he was sure that he must have looked like a demon or something to the little girl, who was now being comforted by the man who Blades assumed was her father. Or at least what amounted to her father if she really was a slave child, families got split up all the time in that racket.
Blades touched his finger to his earpiece and spoke "Sticks, I'm sending you the lot numbers now so you can go ahead and program some of the lifters, but there's something else. You should get to the middle of the warehouse when you're ready."
After he got the affirmative from his partner, Blades stepped over the man and approached the two women. They certainly seemed appropriately dressed for slaves. Their hair was braided in the same exact style and they wore the same brown house dresses, which appeared to be made of some kind of a rope-like fabric. "What's your names?" he asked them "What are you doing here?" No response.
He turned towards Kurt and said "You know, they would be worth plenty. Especially the two men and the young lady."
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 14, 2010 0:42:44 GMT -5
Kurt looked at them again and back at Blades and shook his head. "No, Blades. They're innocent people who've been ripped from their everyday lives, forced here against their will. I won't have them being sold for cash. We're both killers, Blades, but I'd think you'd have a higher regard for life than that."
His blue eyes were cold, his face stern, his lips drawn into a tight line. He wasn't screwing around.
---------
It was a sunny day, the kind not even the most resilient recluse could withstand. Kurt had his shades on, dressed in casual attire. His t-shirt was loose-fitting, his jeans somewhat faded. He'd just come from an interview with a high up, low profile corporation called ARGUS. They had heard about his skills with weapons and wanted to hire him on. He'd accepted, not even listening to the extended rules and requirements. He signed his name to the line and he was out the door. Now to get home and tell his girlfriend the news about his new job.
Her name was Jenna, and they'd been dating for a few months. He wasn't sure if he loved her or not yet, but he thought he might. They were staying in a three story apartment complex, where the rent was cheap, the rooms were nice, and love was slowly filling the air. He jogged up to the second floor, bumping into a man in a trenchcoat on the way. Man, that guy was built like a tank. Maybe he was wearing armor underneath? Why hide it? Shrugging, he walked down the hall and unlocked the door to their place.
"Jen? Babe, I'm back."
It was quiet. He was disappointed, wanting to tell her the good news. She must of had something to do today and didn't tell him before he left. He dropped his cardkey next to the cooler and walked into the bathroom to take a leak. On his way back out, he noticed something on the bed.
Walking in, he saw her shape under the covers, the thin sheet covering her naked form. Smiling, he leaned over her and kissed her on the lips. Her mouth was stiff, unyielding... and cold. Frowning, he moved away and her hand fell from it's resting place on her forehead, revealing a small, dark hole. Hands shaking, he lifted her head and saw the exit wound. He backed away suddenly, gasping for air. No, she couldnt-
His comlink buzzed, and he activated it. It was the man who hired him. He said he was sorry about what happened, sorry for his loss, said he knew who had done it and that he could help Kurt find him if he wanted.
Kurt, tears running down his face, said yes. From that day onward, he refused to get close to anyone, knowing all too well the fragile state of a persons life.
He went to her funeral, and there he cried his last tears. After that he dedicated himself solely to his work.
Work? No... it was his life.
|
|
|
|
Post by RobbyL9 on Apr 14, 2010 1:05:26 GMT -5
Behind his mask, the mercenary's mind went ablaze with rage. How could Kurt be so hypocritical? He had probably sold dozens or hundreds of people into slavery or helped in some way. Yes, yes he could see it now. Kurt had to be taken out of the game or Blades would show his vulnerability and therefore his ability to be killed.
Without a word, Blades simply shrugged and leaned up against the boxes so that his pistol was out of view and he was facing Kurt. Slowly, his hand wandered down to the hidden pistol and little by little he began to lift it out as silently and stealthily as possible. His heart was pounding with anticipation and anxiety as Blades watched in paranoia for Kurt to make some kind of move.
He had just gotten the pistol out when he heard footsteps accompanied by a voice from behind. Sticks patted him on the back as he walked by. "So, what is it you wanted to show me, Blades?" he asked him. Blades used the distraction to his advantage to get his pistol the rest of the way out, but casually used it to point to the slaves.
"It looks like we have a family." Blades said pointing at them all "A family of slaves. You know what our contact said about enemy property, and it don't get no more valuable than this." He looked and pointed somewhat accusingly at Kurt and said "Kurt here don't want to let us confiscate them."
Sticks flipped up his mask, a confused look on his face. He motioned for Kurt to explain.
|
|
|
|
Post by Revan Jast on Apr 14, 2010 22:04:18 GMT -5
"Listen here, Twigs. These people have been ripped from their homes and brought here to be sent out into a horrible life. I'm a killer, a murderer, yes. But I am not a heartless son of a bitch like your fucking drug filled friend here."
Kurt moved closer, the two nearly touching noses. "You don't strike me as a cold man. In fact, I think it's all the more likely you're the one who keeps your team in line. Time to show that, pal. Straighten him out and make him see beyond his own greedy fucking reasons."
Kurt stepped back and walked away a few feet, then turned back towards them. "Blades, put the gun down. The only thing that's gonna be going off in here is our mouths, so holster your weapon. Now."
|
|
