Post by Jason Thornvaald on Mar 9, 2009 23:36:24 GMT -5
Thorn's first clue that something wasn't quite right on his ship was the lack of complaining. He hadn't heard a sour note out of his god-forsaken crew in nearly three days. The large man did his best to shake off the uneasiness from that, however, trying to focus on more important things. Namely where their next take was going to come from, as his ship was running on fumes as it was. They were skirting the outer edges of space trying to avoid the heavier-than-normal military patrols, while Thorn wracked his brain and his comm. for some potential jobs.
The Mjollnir was quiet around him, still, while the Norwegian-blooded Captain sifted through ship manifests. Not many would have heard that faint, shuffling sound that suddenly went up and even fewer would have put a thought to it. But Thorn hadn't risen to where he was in this business by ignoring things, or being overly trusting.
His pale eyes lifted, staring intently at the door to his cabin. No other sounds were forthcoming, but he trusted his intuition explicitly and right now that intuition was telling him that something was very, very wrong.
The pale-haired pirate snatched his sword up out of it's scabbard at his side and stood, leaping away from his desk and to the side just in time to avoid the tranq gun that suddenly burst through his door, firing four darts into his chair instead.
Thorn was expecting raiders, boarders from a different crew--even though he had no idea how they would have managed to board his ship without him knowing. He was so surprised to see Gatson and Johns on the threshold that he froze, eyes wide.
They were actually doing it. The mangy fucking bastards were actually trying to mutiny on his ship!
Gatson whirled to him and tried to fire again, but Thorn ducked out of the way just in time yet again. He rolled back to his feet with a snarl, the room beginning to grow frigid with his lost temper. Frost began forming along every surface.
"You better put away that tranq gun and pull out the real thing, boys," he snarled low, advancing. "You mutiny on my ship, you better pray to God you finish me."
Gatson and Johns--two of the better fighters on board other than Lyra--did reach for their weapons then and charged him. Thorn did his best to ignore the pang of worry in his heart at the fact that his little sister hadn't come barging in yet. No way in hell would Lyra be in on this, and like hell she wouldn't notice it. That had to mean they'd already silenced her. He prayed that they had merely tranquilized her rather than killed her. For their sakes, as well as his.
As good as Gatson and Johns were, they were no real match for Thorn. The powerful captain had the both of them maimed and out of the fight in only a few maneuvers. He sneered down at the bleeding, gasping men, expression merciless and ravaged in equal measure.
"Why? How the fuck did you ever think you were going to get away with this? You knew damned well you couldn't beat me!"
"We . . . *cough* didn't have to beat you," Gatson gasped painfully, chuckling. And Thorn's instincts began to scream out a warning that was, for once, far too late. "All we had to do was distract you long enough for her to get here."
And then the proximity alarms started wailing, and there was a tell-tale lurch of the Mjollnir being caught in a tractor beam.
The Mjollnir was quiet around him, still, while the Norwegian-blooded Captain sifted through ship manifests. Not many would have heard that faint, shuffling sound that suddenly went up and even fewer would have put a thought to it. But Thorn hadn't risen to where he was in this business by ignoring things, or being overly trusting.
His pale eyes lifted, staring intently at the door to his cabin. No other sounds were forthcoming, but he trusted his intuition explicitly and right now that intuition was telling him that something was very, very wrong.
The pale-haired pirate snatched his sword up out of it's scabbard at his side and stood, leaping away from his desk and to the side just in time to avoid the tranq gun that suddenly burst through his door, firing four darts into his chair instead.
Thorn was expecting raiders, boarders from a different crew--even though he had no idea how they would have managed to board his ship without him knowing. He was so surprised to see Gatson and Johns on the threshold that he froze, eyes wide.
They were actually doing it. The mangy fucking bastards were actually trying to mutiny on his ship!
Gatson whirled to him and tried to fire again, but Thorn ducked out of the way just in time yet again. He rolled back to his feet with a snarl, the room beginning to grow frigid with his lost temper. Frost began forming along every surface.
"You better put away that tranq gun and pull out the real thing, boys," he snarled low, advancing. "You mutiny on my ship, you better pray to God you finish me."
Gatson and Johns--two of the better fighters on board other than Lyra--did reach for their weapons then and charged him. Thorn did his best to ignore the pang of worry in his heart at the fact that his little sister hadn't come barging in yet. No way in hell would Lyra be in on this, and like hell she wouldn't notice it. That had to mean they'd already silenced her. He prayed that they had merely tranquilized her rather than killed her. For their sakes, as well as his.
As good as Gatson and Johns were, they were no real match for Thorn. The powerful captain had the both of them maimed and out of the fight in only a few maneuvers. He sneered down at the bleeding, gasping men, expression merciless and ravaged in equal measure.
"Why? How the fuck did you ever think you were going to get away with this? You knew damned well you couldn't beat me!"
"We . . . *cough* didn't have to beat you," Gatson gasped painfully, chuckling. And Thorn's instincts began to scream out a warning that was, for once, far too late. "All we had to do was distract you long enough for her to get here."
And then the proximity alarms started wailing, and there was a tell-tale lurch of the Mjollnir being caught in a tractor beam.