Post by Joe Fischer on May 22, 2014 18:46:07 GMT -6
[NOTE: Takes place after the meeting but before departure. All other characters appear courtesy of their players.]
After trading a last few more verbal jabs with Lysander, Joe left the bar feeling good about himself. Despite his initial misgivings about becoming a merc, he seemed to have fallen in with a good team and an equally good leader.
And on my first job, no less, he thought. Things are starting to look up…
He activated his comm link to the shuttle to tell the pilot where to bring his gear, and it was immediately filled with the sound of gunfire.
“Report!” he yelled over the din.
“Someone wants my shuttle!” the pilot yelled back. “We’re under heavy fire!”
“Hold on, I’m on my way!” he yelled back, breaking into a run.
He hated running. Anything involving muscular strength and endurance, he could do with no worries, but when it came to running, he was slower than an elderly elcor. But he ran anyway, pushing himself as hard as he could.
*****
He reached the docking bay, and found himself in a war zone. There was wreckage everywhere, along with plenty of bodies, scattered weapons and discarded heat sinks.
He activated his comm link again. “This is Fischer, I’m here, what’s your status?” he asked.
Silence.
He approached the shuttle slowly, Typhoon at the ready. The shuttle lay on the floor of the docking bay, full of holes.
He brought up his comm system again, this time activating the loudspeaker. “This is Fischer, I’m here!” he called out.
Silence.
He could see several packing crates had been set up as a hasty barricade in front of the shuttle. He stepped behind it and saw the kid, lying face up with half his head missing.
He turned back to the shuttle.
*****
He stepped inside the shuttle and saw the pilot sitting just inside the door, an assault rifle clenched in her hand and several bullet holes in her torso.
Knowing it was a lost cause, he brought up his omnitool and scanned her. Judging by the amount of internal damage, the attackers had been using shredder rounds, yet she was somehow alive, not that it mattered; she had a couple of minutes at best, and he didn’t have much hope for any quality medical care in this place.
He tapped a command on his omnitool and a moment later it gave her an application of medigel. It wouldn’t save her, but at least her last few minutes wouldn’t be so painful.
She stirred and opened her eyes. “Some gang…tried to jack your cargo,” she said. “We didn’t let them.”
“No you didn’t,” he said.
“My son…how is he?” she asked. “He kept pestering me to come along. I wasn’t going to, but then I thought, ‘Why not?’ ”
“He took a few hits, but he’s going to make it,” he said without hesitation. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him back home.”
She nodded and smiled slightly, then her eyes closed and her head slumped down to her chest.
“Figures,” he said.
He closed his eyes, pushing back the hurt, the grief and the rage; that wasn’t going to do them any good.
He activated his comm again, and a second later, Lysander’s voice came in like he was right next to him. “What’s up kid, you need someone to hold your hand, guide you through the big scary space station?” he asked.
“I’ve got a situation and I could use some help,” Joe said, his voice flat.
“Where are you? How bad is it?” Lysander asked, all business now.
“It’s over, but I could use some help cleaning up,” Joe said.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
*****
He got there in four minutes and twenty-six seconds. In that time, Joe had cleaned up the pilot and laid her out on the docking bay floor.
Lysander looked over at Joe, the question hanging in the air.
“This shuttle brought me in, they were the pilots,” he said, nodding at the bodies. “They were mother and son. They were protecting my gear, and…they succeeded.”
Lysander said nothing.
“Can you get my stuff to the ship?” Joe asked. “I’ll take care of them.”
Lysander nodded and made his way to the shuttle.
I’m either going to save a lot of people…or kill a lot of Collectors…
After trading a last few more verbal jabs with Lysander, Joe left the bar feeling good about himself. Despite his initial misgivings about becoming a merc, he seemed to have fallen in with a good team and an equally good leader.
And on my first job, no less, he thought. Things are starting to look up…
He activated his comm link to the shuttle to tell the pilot where to bring his gear, and it was immediately filled with the sound of gunfire.
“Report!” he yelled over the din.
“Someone wants my shuttle!” the pilot yelled back. “We’re under heavy fire!”
“Hold on, I’m on my way!” he yelled back, breaking into a run.
He hated running. Anything involving muscular strength and endurance, he could do with no worries, but when it came to running, he was slower than an elderly elcor. But he ran anyway, pushing himself as hard as he could.
*****
He reached the docking bay, and found himself in a war zone. There was wreckage everywhere, along with plenty of bodies, scattered weapons and discarded heat sinks.
He activated his comm link again. “This is Fischer, I’m here, what’s your status?” he asked.
Silence.
He approached the shuttle slowly, Typhoon at the ready. The shuttle lay on the floor of the docking bay, full of holes.
He brought up his comm system again, this time activating the loudspeaker. “This is Fischer, I’m here!” he called out.
Silence.
He could see several packing crates had been set up as a hasty barricade in front of the shuttle. He stepped behind it and saw the kid, lying face up with half his head missing.
He turned back to the shuttle.
*****
He stepped inside the shuttle and saw the pilot sitting just inside the door, an assault rifle clenched in her hand and several bullet holes in her torso.
Knowing it was a lost cause, he brought up his omnitool and scanned her. Judging by the amount of internal damage, the attackers had been using shredder rounds, yet she was somehow alive, not that it mattered; she had a couple of minutes at best, and he didn’t have much hope for any quality medical care in this place.
He tapped a command on his omnitool and a moment later it gave her an application of medigel. It wouldn’t save her, but at least her last few minutes wouldn’t be so painful.
She stirred and opened her eyes. “Some gang…tried to jack your cargo,” she said. “We didn’t let them.”
“No you didn’t,” he said.
“My son…how is he?” she asked. “He kept pestering me to come along. I wasn’t going to, but then I thought, ‘Why not?’ ”
“He took a few hits, but he’s going to make it,” he said without hesitation. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him back home.”
She nodded and smiled slightly, then her eyes closed and her head slumped down to her chest.
“Figures,” he said.
He closed his eyes, pushing back the hurt, the grief and the rage; that wasn’t going to do them any good.
He activated his comm again, and a second later, Lysander’s voice came in like he was right next to him. “What’s up kid, you need someone to hold your hand, guide you through the big scary space station?” he asked.
“I’ve got a situation and I could use some help,” Joe said, his voice flat.
“Where are you? How bad is it?” Lysander asked, all business now.
“It’s over, but I could use some help cleaning up,” Joe said.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
*****
He got there in four minutes and twenty-six seconds. In that time, Joe had cleaned up the pilot and laid her out on the docking bay floor.
Lysander looked over at Joe, the question hanging in the air.
“This shuttle brought me in, they were the pilots,” he said, nodding at the bodies. “They were mother and son. They were protecting my gear, and…they succeeded.”
Lysander said nothing.
“Can you get my stuff to the ship?” Joe asked. “I’ll take care of them.”
Lysander nodded and made his way to the shuttle.
I’m either going to save a lot of people…or kill a lot of Collectors…