Post by Jason Thornvaald on Nov 2, 2008 9:25:03 GMT -5
The small settlement town of Bargess--on one of the farthest outskirts of Callisto--looked like something that might have come out of an old Western movie, except for the very occasional hover-car, service robot or computer terminal. Otherwise folk dressed very simple, and more than one old-fashioned beast of burden could be seen plodding along the dirt-roads that carved themselves through this harsh frontier. It took a special kind of person to choose to make their lives here. Life in Bargess--hell, life on Callisto, period--was tough, back-breaking, sweaty work that paid out in grief and pain as often as it did worthwhile rewards.
Aside from somewhat backwoods settlers and horse shit, however, Bargess was also the out-of-the-way town in which one of Mars' top research companies liked to store some of their capital. After all, who in their right mind would come to Callisto willingly? And who, in this backwater little shit-hole town, would have the means or the stupidity to take out the five-man security detail that guarded the place twenty-four seven, led by a now-retired Mamba commander?
Thorn Scarsgard led Lyra and three of his less incompetent crewmen down the street, toward the deceptively nondescript building. They were all dressed as the settlers around them, their weapons concealed in jackets and loose-fitting pants. Thorn himself had his Aerantium sword covered by the backpack slung over one shoulder.
The huge pirate's tall First Mate gave him the eye as they kept walking toward it completely out in the open, as bold as you please. "Sir," she murmured after a moment, tone soft and monotoned. "What's your plan of attack, exactly?"
Thorn grinned somewhat recklessly. "I thought we'd just walk up to the front door and knock."
One of Lyra's eyebrows slowly lifted. "Krait is a former Mamba, sir," she felt inclined to remind him, as if he had forgotten. Thorn just waved her concerns away like so many gnats currently buzzing around his head.
"Leave Krait to me," he assured her. "You take out the other four. Try not to kill 'em if you can avoid it. And the rest of you, as soon as the bullets start flying, get your asses back into the storage area and snatch whatever's not nailed to the god-damned floor."
Arriving at the glorified mud hut, Thorn lifted his fist and knocked. A moment later a form opened the door that caused everyone but himself and Lyra to blink a little in surprise. Other than the short-cropped, oak brown hair, gray-green eyes and lack of about four inches, the resemblance to the Captain was almost uncanny.
The man blinked, expression thunder-struck, the legendary Mamba calm failing him as he stared at the Captain of the Mjollnir as if he were seeing a ghost. "Jas--?"
That's all he got out before Thorn's fist cracked him across the face, then shoulder checked him through the door. Both men went to the ground in a glorified heap. Lyra was already stepping past them, the tall woman standing fearlessly at her full height, her two scatter guns in each fist. The four other security members inside dove for cover, and much of it blew into splintered shards from Lyra's cover fire.
The three other crewmen quickly slipped past the ensuing chaos, into the back of the building.
Krait rolled back to his feet, glare deadly through his now split lip. Thorn did the same, pulling his sword, though his expression was more along the lines of a shit-eating grin.
"Pirates," the former Mamba spat, as if he were ridding himself of something foul. Thorn just chuckled.
"Nice to see you too, cousin," he replied. "Hope you don't mind if we liberate you from a bit of your stock. Runs are coming up a bit dry, at the moment, but I'm sure your employers can make up the slack."
Krait--also known as Graham Vega--let out a soft growl. "In respect to my aunt, I'm going to give you one chance to turn your ass around and get the hell out of here, Jason," he pronounced, tone going deadly calm with that fabled Mamba training of his.
Thorn just grinned wickedly, his sword in one hand and a spike of deadly ice suddenly forming in the other. Krait shook his head a little, then widened his stance. A shock-baton was suddenly in one of his hands. And then his lip pulled back in a snarl--revealing two very prominently fanged canines--before his other fist was engulfed in greenish-yellow fire.
Aside from somewhat backwoods settlers and horse shit, however, Bargess was also the out-of-the-way town in which one of Mars' top research companies liked to store some of their capital. After all, who in their right mind would come to Callisto willingly? And who, in this backwater little shit-hole town, would have the means or the stupidity to take out the five-man security detail that guarded the place twenty-four seven, led by a now-retired Mamba commander?
Thorn Scarsgard led Lyra and three of his less incompetent crewmen down the street, toward the deceptively nondescript building. They were all dressed as the settlers around them, their weapons concealed in jackets and loose-fitting pants. Thorn himself had his Aerantium sword covered by the backpack slung over one shoulder.
The huge pirate's tall First Mate gave him the eye as they kept walking toward it completely out in the open, as bold as you please. "Sir," she murmured after a moment, tone soft and monotoned. "What's your plan of attack, exactly?"
Thorn grinned somewhat recklessly. "I thought we'd just walk up to the front door and knock."
One of Lyra's eyebrows slowly lifted. "Krait is a former Mamba, sir," she felt inclined to remind him, as if he had forgotten. Thorn just waved her concerns away like so many gnats currently buzzing around his head.
"Leave Krait to me," he assured her. "You take out the other four. Try not to kill 'em if you can avoid it. And the rest of you, as soon as the bullets start flying, get your asses back into the storage area and snatch whatever's not nailed to the god-damned floor."
Arriving at the glorified mud hut, Thorn lifted his fist and knocked. A moment later a form opened the door that caused everyone but himself and Lyra to blink a little in surprise. Other than the short-cropped, oak brown hair, gray-green eyes and lack of about four inches, the resemblance to the Captain was almost uncanny.
The man blinked, expression thunder-struck, the legendary Mamba calm failing him as he stared at the Captain of the Mjollnir as if he were seeing a ghost. "Jas--?"
That's all he got out before Thorn's fist cracked him across the face, then shoulder checked him through the door. Both men went to the ground in a glorified heap. Lyra was already stepping past them, the tall woman standing fearlessly at her full height, her two scatter guns in each fist. The four other security members inside dove for cover, and much of it blew into splintered shards from Lyra's cover fire.
The three other crewmen quickly slipped past the ensuing chaos, into the back of the building.
Krait rolled back to his feet, glare deadly through his now split lip. Thorn did the same, pulling his sword, though his expression was more along the lines of a shit-eating grin.
"Pirates," the former Mamba spat, as if he were ridding himself of something foul. Thorn just chuckled.
"Nice to see you too, cousin," he replied. "Hope you don't mind if we liberate you from a bit of your stock. Runs are coming up a bit dry, at the moment, but I'm sure your employers can make up the slack."
Krait--also known as Graham Vega--let out a soft growl. "In respect to my aunt, I'm going to give you one chance to turn your ass around and get the hell out of here, Jason," he pronounced, tone going deadly calm with that fabled Mamba training of his.
Thorn just grinned wickedly, his sword in one hand and a spike of deadly ice suddenly forming in the other. Krait shook his head a little, then widened his stance. A shock-baton was suddenly in one of his hands. And then his lip pulled back in a snarl--revealing two very prominently fanged canines--before his other fist was engulfed in greenish-yellow fire.