Futuristic A Journey Offworld

[0135Kelly]

Kelly smirked at the gesture, her lithe hand rested on his as she took a step forward. "Allow me?" She whispered and looked to the Pilot for approval, her eyebrows arched upward in question. Devon's vitals had come alive, his pulse was racing and she could pick up on a mass of endorphin's racing around his brain. He truly was scum and she was itching for a fight.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

The narrow passageway stank of a sour odor and warm rubbish, the scent of cigarette smoke snagged in Verona's throat and caused her to hold her breath. It did nothing to lessen the already dreadful atmosphere, the tainted, murky air hung like fog around the crew. What was Horace thinking to bring them here, it seemed a questionable place to be acquiring some ship parts. Shards of broken bottles and cigarette butts were strewn on the floor, the glass crunched under foot. Verona cringed at the sight, however, a part of her was compelled to find out more, this looked like it was going to be fun.


She held back a snort at the string of insults that emitted from Devon's filthy mouth, it seemed pretty ironic seeing that the man spouting it was lounging in a dark alley with two body guards protecting him. The man's proposition repulsed her and she bit her tongue to stop herself from retorting, his harsh laugh grated against her ears and she looked over to the Pilot, she could sense Horace's building frustration. Verona's eyes flickered as he moved his hand down, she clenched her jaw. She didn't think there was any need for that.

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace looked between his two companions. Two clear options presented themselves. Verona clearly didn't think a fight was the best option and normally Horace would agree with her, but he'd seen how Kelly had flicked that pickpicket across the street, he'd never had someone of this power by his side before. He looked back at Devon, the man had what they needed, they had a way to get it. Horace sighed.


Don't regret things Horace. Regret is wishing something hadn't happened. Now, a person is the sum of their memories and experiences we know this, so everything that has ever happened to you in the past makes you who you are in this very moment, if something had gone differently, you wouldn't be alive, some other Horace Serket would be living a slightly different life and you'd never have existed. Instead boy, look ahead, make a decision that will turn you into the person you want to be.





Horace didn't want to be a killer. But he wouldn't mind being a man who stood up to the notorious scumbag Devin. And he certainly wouldn't mind being a man with a working fission tunnel.


He looked back to Kelly and gave a small nod.

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly took another step forward, slowly advancing on Devon. His devilish grin made her stomach churn and his stench of cheap booze and cigarettes almost had her gagging but with every step she took the world around her seemed to block out. The sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her implants booted up to full power, her field of view widened and her muscles tightened. Standing at five feet eleven inches, she was considered unusually tall for a woman, but now she was as imposing as a heavily built man standing almost a foot taller than her.


"Mr Devon is it?" She spoke politely and curt, accentuating every syllable. "I would really prefer receiving these components post haste, as my crew and I have very little reason to stay in this sector. And frankly; You disgust me."

 

[Sir Horace]

Devons eyes shot open, this was not what he was used to at all. People should respect him damnit! He opened his mouth to tell this woman just that but the words caught in his mouth and the confidence turned to ash. He whimpered a command and his two thugs stepped forward, one snapped a shock cane out, blue energy crackling along the metal shaft. The other pulled out a cheap looking energy pistol and levelled it at Kelly. "I suggest you step away from the boss"


Horace anyway took an involuntary step back. His combat role was more suited to Moral Support, he was certain Kelly had this under control.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

There was a stillness and Verona turned her head sharply as she noticed a nod targeted toward the Captain, she shakes her head violently at her crew mates, alas, they did not take heed. A flurry of movement was followed by the low humming of electricity that grew louder in the darkened street, a gun was aimed at Kelly's head. "Shit," her own feet were ready to take flight, away from the alleyway and away from the two hefty men towering over them.

 

[0135Kelly]

She eyed the man with the gun first, her eyes scanned over his foot position and the angles of his arms. Poor form. His trigger finger twitched against the safety, turning it off and engaging the pistol for use. Her gaze then moved to the shock cane wielding thug, his form was better but still very open, his vitals read normal so it ruled out either of them possessing any implants. This will be an easy fight.





"Make me." The corners of her mouth twitched upwards but a fraction as the thugs' faces hardened at her words. The cane wielding thug stepped first, swinging his weapon in a wide, overhead arc towards her head. The cane buzzed wildly as she ducked under the weapon with inhuman speed, the momentum of his swing twisted his body around awkwardly. He shuffled quickly trying to raise his cane again for another swing but Kelly kicked the inside of his leg, knocking it out from underneath him and causing the large meat head to drop to the pavement, his cane clattering to the ground alongside him. Kelly twisted her head around with a snap, locking eyes with the gun toting thug. She spun on her heel, bringing her other heel down his hand, with a deafening crack, the gun fired out of his hand and hit his comrade in the arm. With a wild squeal the cane wielding thug scrambled to his feet, cane now in the opposite hand and with a pathetic whimper, he came in quickly for another swing. With a quick grunt, Kelly reeled back and swung left. If the punch were any faster, it might've broken the sound barrier. The punch connected with the thug's face with a sickening crunch, the thug flew backwards into the dirty alley wall behind him and slid to the ground in an unconscious heap.


The no longer gun toting thug stepped back, dropping into a braced form, he was getting ready to go for a running tackle. Idiot. With a comical war cry, the thug pushed off the wall with his left foot and rocketed towards her, she herself had dropped into a braced form and reeled back another punch. Before he could make contact, he dropped his head, bracing for impact. The impact did come, but to the back of his head as another shockwave of a punch slammed him into the ground.


Kelly walked slowly towards Devon, grasping him by the collar and lifting him a foot off the ground. "What's say we get our ass into gear and fetch Mr Serket his fission tunnel?"

 

[Sir Horace]

Devon whimpered fearfully. "P-Put me down, Please! B-Behind those pallets, my warehouse. You'll find it in there. Don't hurt me!"


Horace nudged one of the thugs with the toe of his boot. Kelly knew what she was doing, in a scary way. He stepped awkwardly past the two bodies and shoved aside the pallets leaning against the wall to reveal a small door. Horace grinned, a smugglers warehouse, quite the find. "I'll be able to find the fission tunnel in here Cap', damn good job on the thugs." His voice slow with awe, his felt far more confidant about traveling with this crew, far less confidant about his chances in a crew on crew arm wrestling contest however.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Verona entered the warehouse, passing Devon without a glance his way. You wouldn't believe the attempts she made to keep all the words she meant to say in. The men lay out cold on the ground and she guessed with more than a few broken limbs, Kelly's scuffle with them didn't last long and impressed Verona immensely. Her lips were slightly parted from the initial shock that had began to settle down to a buzz, and a slight light-headiness.


Before going inside, she had bent down and swiped her hand over the screen on the handle to switch off the Shock Cane that droned next to the bodyguard, it's humming slowed to a stop and the electricity spluttered and fizzed in protest before going out. "Just to be on the safe side," she grimaced before following Horace and Kelly inside, the place sent shivers up her spine and she placed her hand on the wall for support, "-you don't think there'd be a simpler way of getting a Fission tunnel? because I'm sure this isn't exactly legal," she darted a look behind her shoulder for extra measure, dust filtered in through the meager light that streamed from the rafters. Her voice rang around the large space.


The warehouse was a distinct contrast from the majority of high-end buildings with their advanced technology and white walls. She wasn't used to the environment, she ran her hand along the surface of the wall and drew away with dirt on her fingertips, she attempts to hide a twinge of unease in her voice. Devon wasn't the type of man she would wish to see irritated, she wouldn't have took him on in the first place and she was unsettled as to what fate lay ahead for them.

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace glanced back at Verona, "Legal, isn't it more of a perspective really? I mean, who is to say what's legal and not?" He ask cheerfully, still giddy from the success. "I mean, laws are made by rulers, and everyone has their own ruling system, maybe I just don't like the one on this planet, they outlaw dancing after nightfall. Or so I've heard anyway, probably not true that..." Horace trailed off as they came to their destination, on the shelf labeled "Fusion Tunnels" there was but a single one, they are certainly hard to come by. Horace took the piece under his arm, about 30kg, a half metre long black pipe softly glowing at either end, orange on one, blue on the other. Perfect.


"Exactly what I was looking for, this went rather well didn't it?" He grinned at his companions. "Now we just need to..." Horace trailed off again as he spied an open box full of small silver orbs. "You know, well we're here I might just grab a couple other things rather, difficult to come by." Already running off in the direction of the valuable pieces.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

"I believe the government assigns what is legal and what isn't, does he not?" she tilts her head in reply to Horace's question, Verona lifted her hand to brush a flyaway strand behind her ear before hastening her pace to keep up with the pair ahead of her, they were both attractive individuals with advantageous, practical skill sets, Horace with his piloting and Kelly with her combat skill. Being with them deflated her ego quite a bit, although she was grateful and fond of their company.


She knitted her brows "Come to think of it, I don't recall people out dancing after hours," the fact was rather alarming to Verona, dancing was a sort of tradition on Earth. Her parents were brought to mind, she remembered how they used to fit so perfectly in to each other's arms and glide across the carpet, their feet moving soundlessly in time to the music that used to lull her to sleep. Her mother had a knack for dancing. She watched them one night, sneaked downstairs to see, it was truly beautiful. The firelight bringing out the light in their eyes as they leaned in to whisper private words in the other's ear, the light expelled all the shadows that threatened to creep in, they way they moved was so familiar, Verona could remember it distinctly. The thought of not dancing was awful.


Verona trailed after the two, she picked up the silver orb and turned it over curiously, the metal was smooth and warm at her fingertips. She placed it back down with care on to the pile, her smeared fingerprints were imprinted on the orb. She drifted off to marvel at further curio's that littered the place.

 

[Spiritdancer]

Her fingers trailed the corrugated iron wall, it's coolness like a blessing in the stifling heat of the crowds. The mixture of tongue-twisting languages, the bartering of wares, and the vibrating thump of crates, competed for supremacy in the swelling crescendo of noise.


Fixated in her reverie, it took a while for her senses to catch up with her mind. Barely audible footsteps sounded behind. Rhythmic beating footfalls fell a moment after hers. Saska side stepped a Carona, scarcely avoiding it's swinging orbital cavities, in futile attempt to shake off the follower. But much like a shadow it persistently clung to her.


Her hands flexed, all her senses were on full alert. Occasions where she had been outwitted were few and far between. The din of the bazaar melded into one. Bodies soundlessly scraped against her, moving like waves around a rock. Everything dissolved around her, she was only focused on one thing. The numbing cold, circle pressed against the nape of her neck. A soft click.





"Thief"

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace stuffed one last piece into his backpack, a length of Iridite Wire, one hair width wire that can carry an incredible voltage. Useful and expensive. Normally he might feel bad about taking all this stuff, but it wasn't Devons anyway, the man probably stole it off someone else to begin with and it'd end up in some criminals hands anyway. "We should head off, we have everything we need and then some."


Heading out of the warehouse and past the whimpering smuggler lying in the muddy streets outside, Horace headed in the direction of the hanger, the Fission Tube a reassuring weight under his arm. The part that meant freedom at last. Machines are like people, countless complex pieces are needed for them to run. He could tell the Quick Strides was like an energetic child, yearning to run free amongst the stars like himself. Horace felt like the doctor who'd fix that child's legs, but also the friend who'd run with it, hold it's hand and lead it to those starry fields.


There was a chill in the air as faint rain began to fall, whatever was in the soil of this planet gave the air a coppery taste when the rain hit the earth. Horace took out his journal, a small brown leather book worn with age. Veneir: Air tastes coppery during rainfall.


The book was filled with similar notes from all number of planets he'd visited. Small spots began to form on the paper where the rain hit it, funny how often this happened. Horace snapped the journal shut to protect it's delicate pages. Given what had happened already today, he doubted he'd forget this planet any time soon.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

The single droplets of water that had started to careen down from the overcast sky seemed to flicker in neon colors, they danced in Verona's vision, illuminated by the various sign board that stretched out farther than any eyes could see. It had started to descend unrelentingly down on to their bare heads, the clouds above billowed and flowed in a swirl of grey and white, every footfall released a wave of rainwater that seeped in to their shoes.


The gutters were overflowing with murky liquid that ran down the streets, the market wasn't as congested as it was when they had arrived as many had taken shelter in the various shops apart from a gaggle of children leaping and wading in the puddles that lay on the ground.


She had made the thoughtless mistake of straying too close to the youngsters, an amused chuckle slipped from Verona's lips as she rubbed a fleck of dirt from her cheek, a fruitless action considering the current weather. The crew of 'Quick Strides' were already soaked to the bone, her black locks hung limply and a few strands were plastered to the side of her face. Verona's clothing clung to her skin and she drew her jacket tighter around her shoulders to shield herself from the raw, and persistent wind that tore at her.


The Hangar that held their ship was in sight, though slightly blurred from the rain that clouded her vision.


It was there, shelter and warmth.

 

[Spiritdancer]

She wrenched free from the man's grip, the barrel of the gun no longer pressed to the back of her head. Bet it wasn't loaded anyway, sweat dripped down the girl's face as her legs started to move, she could taste the salt on her dry lips and her muscles straining from the exertion, her heart was threatening to stop right there and then. Saska turned a sharp corner, almost slipping from the damp ground. To her left was a low building, an ideal escape route. Up. She nimbly clambered the building, nails raking the bricks.


Blocking out the clamour that had developed behind, she darted across loose tiled roof. A shot fired resounding past her ears, momentarily diverting her attention, causing her to misplace her step. She fell hard against the asphalt of the hangar. The air knocked out of her. Glancing back she could just see an intimidating figure through the chaotic mass of overturned carts and sloshing rain. Her sodden hair whipped against her face, the rain stinging the bleeding gash on her leg, that she had only just realized was there.


Saska sprinted across the broad field of the hangar, the water dripping off of her, most likely leaving a trail. A Corvette stood before her, she could not turn back now, they would arrest her for sure. She'd seen it dock last night and 3 had departed the spaceship, Saska knew it was empty. Perhaps she could hideaway for a few hours and then leave, it didn't sound like a bad idea.

 

[Sir Horace]

"Back at last"


Horace reached out to the keypad of the hanger but as he approached his balance was completely lost, flailing his arms and dropping the fission tunnel with a resounding bang, Horace collapsed in a small heap on the ground. Groaning he lifted himself up, the area right outside the door was sheltered, why is there a trail of water here? Horace awkwardly raised himself to his feet, accepting Veronas hand in assistance. "Er, this way?" The pilot hurriedly turned back to the door and pressed the button that triggered the sliding back of the hanger door. Horace much preferred the hangers in space stations, there was always the hiss and blast of steam as you opened the doors, something to do with pressure. In contrast to that, the thin sliding door in this second rate dock didn't really seem to cut it. Making his way to the ship, the pilot made care to avoid the odd water trail once more, not wishing to risk damaging the Tunnel, nor what remained of his dignity.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Verona winced as the Fission tunnel made impact with the ground, as it so happens she was more troubled by the damage that may have been caused to their newly retrieved piece of equipment rather than at Horace's well being, but of course that's not a pleasant thing to think or say for that matter. "That's strange.." Verona craned her neck as her gaze drifted toward the ceiling of the hangar and shrugged "-there's probably a leak somewhere," she accompanied Horace inside the craft, their shoes muddied the ground with footprints as they entered the Strides.


"You can place the Fission tunnel down over there," she directed it to be set on the table at the center of the room "-it must have been heavy,"


She shivered as the chilling gust from the vents swept toward her drenched clothing. Verona reached for the button to turn them off, and commenced on to scouring the spacecraft for moderately clean towels for the rest of the drenched crew. "We should be able to start the repairs soon," she slipped of her coat and hung it behind a chair to dry, and then busied herself with unpacking the equipment from their shopping bags.


She turned toward the Pilot "You have the lead Horace, go ahead and tell us what to do."

 

[0135Kelly]

"I would very much like to watch." Kelly hung her own jacket across the back of a chair and helped Verona with the equipment. "Maintaining my- I mean Our ship, is something I would very much like to know how to do." Kelly ran a stray hand through her wet brown locks and raked her scalp with her fingernails, scratching away the subtle itch from the moisture her crown had collected.


She pulled a small Chocolate bar from her back pocket and began chewing away at it, ignoring the looks from her crew at the procurement of said Chocolate.

 

[Spiritdancer]

The sound the ship's door sliding open alerted her to the presence of unwanted arrivals. Her eyes followed the shadows on the ground and her ears picked up muffled words seeping through the cracks in her refuge behind a cluster of long forgotten and malfunctioned droids. She sat with her knees drawn close to herself as her shivering subsided, the cold air leaving the vents were slowing to a halt much to Saska's relief. The clang of their footsteps drew further away, possibly to the room beside her hideout. It was a waiting game. Saska was good at this, she'd always been good at hiding and when the time was right she'd slip away again.


Droplets dripped from her hair and down on to her legs, the graze on her knee stung as blood mixed with water, she winced and waited for the burn to dull. The corroded steel on the droids had rubbed off on her hands, leaving smears of orange and red, the air reeked of bleach and the nostril-curling stench of ammonia.


Drip, drip, drip.





Each noise of the water colliding with the metal ground grated against Saska's ears, although obviously quiet sounds they seemed agonizingly loud in her ears and in the still air of the hallway. Only an hour more, she thought, it'd be safe then.

 

[Sir Horace]

"Well then, lets get to it" Horace said these words with an enthusiastic tone, soon this ship would be up and running, and he would be behind it's metaphorical wheel at last. Moving quickly Horace led the small group down the narrow steel corridors, the automatic lights flickering on with a dull hiss as they passed underneath them. Reaching the heavy steel door that contained the lifeblood of this ship Horace spun the wheel on the door to unseal the heavy locks. It's important to keep an engine room sealed off thought Horace, for all number of specific reasons. Most ships came equip with a simple oxygen venting system that quickly snuffed an engine fire, you don't want the engine room being open to the rest of the ship when you rip out the air.


Pulling open the heavy door Horace stepped into the world of parts and gears. The dryness of the air hit him first, then the rich smell of the oil which lubricated the moving parts and the soft heat of the radiation from the energy cells. Faint buzzing and clicking could be heard, even while the great creature that was the ship slept. And Horace got to work, rapidly interchanging the smaller parts, crawling under the engine and dislodging the old Fission Tunnel, fitting the vital pieces with the precision of a surgeon, or near enough as he could muster. And of course consulting the owners manual for ten minutes at a time.


"There" Horace tightened the fist sized bolt with a highly pressurised wrench, doing in seconds what not the strongest individual could do with their bare hands. Although, Horace pondered, I should get Kelly to try one time, might be interesting. Horace left the engine room to find his companions who had inevitably drifted off when there was little need for the extra hands.


Horace raised his voice, and in a cheerful tone, "The Quick Strides is flight ready. All personal, the Quick Strides is ready to fly!"

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

The joyful declaration unearthed it's way to Verona's ears, she exits her cabin with a start to seek out the pleased pilot. The corridor is long and winding, light spilled from across the hallway -- the steel door leading to the engine room was left ajar, Verona could tell from the greasy smell of petroleum wafting outward and emptying out on to the hallway. She peeks inside and much to her delight finds the engine pristine and repaired, Verona leaves the room and shuts the door with a slam and a turn of it's heavy metal latch to ensure that it stays locked.


The woman turns and continues to wander down the hallways, she discovers the pilot lingering outside the cabins.


"Horace! you did a great job on the repairs," her lips quirk into a delighted smile, her own speech matching the enthusiasm in his voice, the fact that he had done it in only an hour or so was admirable. Just the thought of working down in the engine room made Verona feel horrible, considering how dense the air and stifling the heat, she wouldn't last long. "We'll be ready for take of soon I hope?" she adds with an eagerness that betrays the glee in her voice, she craved the feeling of being up in the entirety of deep space that spanned for miles, to see the glowing specks of light flash by outside.


"Kelly must be around somewhere," she leads on motioning for Horace to follow, the captain's cabin was only a few rooms away. The illumination from the lamps above radiated a glossy coat over their heads and the corridor was considerably well-lit compared to the engine room on the floor below, the trail of rain water seemed to have disappeared in this sector of the Strides. She made a mental note to investigate later.