Under The Bright Suns [Inactive]

[Dirtbear]

TechEwok submitted a new role play:


Under The Bright Suns - Sci-Fi, Insurrection, Rebellion

Under The Bright Suns



The Pacific Alliance of Core Planets, A.K.A PAC, has been controlling the galaxies government and military dominance. The Core Planets are thriving while the Outer Rim have been on a decline ever since the embargo placed on Seren, the key trade planet to the Outer Rim. The Outer Rim's defense force has diminished greatly since PAC abandoned their posts in the sectors of the Outer Rim. So as the times got hard, the few have rallied together to try to change...

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[Dirtbear]

The wheezing sounds of the airlocks echoed in the empty space dock of Seren's third moon, Haven. "Get outta here, ya blasted thief. Get gone or ill put a hole in ya." A rough merc yelled out. He threw a man out of the airlock chamber and he rolled over the deck and laid on his face. Another merc had thrown his pack with his gear on his head. The doors closed and the ship undocked leaving him face first on the metal grating. He slowly got on his knees and grabbed his pack. He looked through it making sure his stuff was still in there.


"Goggles... check. Hot gloves.... check. Hacking pad... check. Splicer... check. Credits.... um..... credits.... where's my damn credits." He rubbed his face and looked through his pack again. "No credits... but... I did make off with the Rikar M4 Acceleration Unit. Bloody mercs and their trust issues... I was going to put it back... Hm and then there's this." He said to himself as he pulled out a data chip.


He plugged into his hacking pad, on the screen the light blue letters went bold as it loaded.


If you are reading this, I'm dead. The PAC are starting to assassinate key members of the Outer Rim Trade Council. I've known this for a while, so I'm sending this to all those i can trust. This meeting will be at Haven, west trade block, under the Abacus Bar @ 1600 hours 2554.2.23. I hope you all make it there. he read it again to make sure he didn't miss anything. The header read, Helena Mitch - Jugo Tinal. He wasn't Helena nor was he Jugo. He just happened to find it on a salvage run. Looked urgent and was pretty sure pay was involved. So he got his things together and tried to find a data pad to find the schematics of the space station.

 

[shousey]

The Abucus Bar played host to all sorts characters in Haven. Many of them were harmless, the remainder were best left alone. It was known among underground groups to be a safe place to talk about the Outer Rim planets and harsh words against PAC. Even within a safe place, many often spoke in code or hushed voices.


“Awfully early to be out of the office and in a bar, eh doctor?” The bartender asked a young woman.


She sat with her back to the bar, watching the few people hug their drinks close. She lazily looked at her watch, then back over her shoulder.


“3:47 isn’t that early. I’ve started far earlier.” Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. Blond bangs framed her face, the rest of her hair was loosely clipped back. She left her white coat and name badge in the lab, but still wore a silky blouse and pencil skirt.


“So what will it be tonight?” he asked.


“I’m waiting on friends, actually. We’ll see what the night brings.” She replied.


“I don’t want any trouble.” He grumbled.


“Me? Trouble? Wrong person. They always start it.” She chuckled.


The bartender rolled his eyes as he walked away.

 

[Dirtbear]

"---hmmmm. AHA! Take that level 4 clearance! Ooops.... should be quieter... " He looked around and downloaded it into his hacking pad. He grabbed it and dodged corridors and aisles and made his way into the trade block. He looked around and saw the sign above the shops below. He fixed his ragged coat and put his pack onto his back and straightened his non-existent tie. I hope I'm not late to the party.


He walked in and barely made it passed the door men and their wandering hands. He didn't have a weapon, so they passed him through the scanners. He lifted his broad shoulders and the red lasers encompassed his body. The usual showed up on the screens and they just passed him off as another mechanic. Good thing they didn't find the hacking pad.... I'd be screwed.


He passed on through and he made his way to the bar and looked around. He saw a woman and some ruffians that were looking at him funny. He looked down and averted his gaze, he called to the bartender. "I need a cider, with a touch of cinnamon. Also... I'm looking for a trader who hides from the sun." He was hoping his codes weren't off like last time. He almost got his pretty red hair singed off when the pirates heard him ask for their daughters maiden blood.


"I'm sorry sir, the trader has been been delayed. His merchandise was a little heavier this time around. Let me get that drink." He said with a hushed tone. Scurrying off muttering to himself. Guess there's more people coming to the party. But how the hell can I tell them apart...


"Don't forget the cinnamon!" He yelled out. Pulled out his mirror and check his teeth. Some blood was there from the brutal blow the merc captain gave him. His left eye was swelling where he hit his face. His light brown eye was beginning to be near invisible from the swelling. He looked into his mirror, aiming it at the girl down the way. He noticed she was alone and had a thought of joining her. But then again, you never know who's out to get you around here.

 

[shousey]

She sat alone at her table, periodically checking her watch. The bubbles in her soda floated to the surface, popping with uncontrolled merriment not shared by the green eyes which watched them. She circled the edge of her glass with a wet finger, listening to the faint ringing it gave. A smile crept upon her lips at the immature noise. Her intelligent eyes watched a stranger enter the room, occupying his own table, voice lofting carelessly through the crowd.


"I need a cider, with a touch of cinnamon. Also... I'm looking for a trader who hides from the sun." He called to he bartender.


"Is that the code we're using now?" She asked herself. She had every regular memorized and they her. Work kept her far too busy to worry about every phrase the paranoid leader came up. Speaking of which, he was running late.


"Don't forget the cinnamon!" He yelled out.


"Perhaps he's a spy?" She questioned, but quickly dismissed. "Perhaps a drug dealer. "





Lost in her thoughts about the stranger she did not notice the sleeze ball which sat down beside her. The man with his dated suit and potent breath put his arm around her. She quickly jumped at the action pushing him away.


"What do you say to a drink, little missy?" He asked with a slurred voice.


"What do you say to a punch in the face?" She retorted, attempting to avoid his embrace by standing. Her chair fell over, seemingly unnoticed by many of the patrons.

 

[Dirtbear]

"How about you follow me upstairs, Doc. You forgot to run those numbers by me earlier about the crew's health bill." A broad man called out entering the room with two others behind his heels. The man walked by and lifted the fallen chair and glared at the drunkard.


"I suggest you find yourself another seat. I think it's broken." He said with a dark face.


The drunk looked puzzled as he inspected his chair to see what the problem was. With a small movement, a laser shot out the rear legs of the seat. The drunk fell backwards and smashed into the tables behind him.


"Now, where were we Doc? Oh yes, let me lead the way." He said, adjusting his belt as he walked up the stairs to the far end of the area. The other two followed closely as they watched the other patrons eye them with small suspicion.


The bartender returned in a hurry with the cider and he saw the trashed chair in front of him. "Oh... not again, Balthazar. How many times do I have to ask you to refrain from breaking the furniture." He groaned.


Balthazar looked over the railing of the second floor and grinned, "I swear it was like that when I walked in." The others laughed softly at the response.


Grabbing the cider and giving the bartender a tip, the Mechanic hurried behind the pack without causing too much attention to himself. He stepped over the lug that took a dive, "Pardon me... Excuse me... Ignore the boot stain on your arm there...." He muttered, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't conscious.

 

[shousey]

Balthazar led the way to a small room upstairs, where they were assured to be left alone. Red cushioned couches lined the room, circling around a sleek table which held a pitcher with water and a few glasses. Picasso like prints lined the room, staring down with their mutated faces at the small group.


The Doctor sat down, maintaining a very lady like composition, even though it did not always suit her. From her small purse she pulled out her tablet and began scrolling through her memos.


"You did quite a number on them this run, Balthazar." She said, pressing her lips together as she searched for the invoice.


Balthazar's first in command sat next to the Doctor. Her sleek, straight, raven hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She pulled out her own tablet, brown eyes watching the doctor. She had a no nonsense presence about her. Everything she did was calculated and precise and very few in the vastness of space had ever seen her smile.


"I can take those figures for you." She said.


"Always good with numbers, eh lieutenant Fung?" The doctor asked. "Just let me link....up.....there!"

 

[Dirtbear]

Ignoring the hushes around the bar as he looked around before finally closing the door behind him, the Mechanic stood by the door looking through his hacking pad. He glanced up but didn't add to the conversation, yet, since he had no idea what was going on. He had his cider in his other hand and took a long ginger sip. He smiled a wide smile with his eyes shut, 'So good. How I've missed the crisp apple taste. Better than that sludge those mercs called coffee.' He thought to himself and opened his eyes to see the rest of them huddled over by the table.


Balthazar sat with his back against the corner facing the door, "So, beside the bill, I'm surprised to only have ran into a few of us." He said, gazing around noticing the faces that were missing. Jugo, Helena, Fang, and Reco. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with labor worn fingers. His coat was trashed but not enough to hide it's old appearance enough from those who've seen it before. An old military issue from the Outer Rim Trade Council Guard. His captain insignia shredded off leaving the old remains of the stitching in its absence. And the years of wear had accounted to it's heavy brushings and discoloring from the old uniform.


"Aye, they be only a few of us around here now. PAC ain't so friendly with the Council any mores." A rugged fellow with a heavy highlanders accent replied.


He also wore a worn coat like Balthazar. Instead of Balthazar's lack of maintenance on the coat, his was more spotless. He had the gleam of the crimson emanating from the leather. He had patches along his shoulders that stated his classifications and certifications. The silver Sergeant insignia looked polished and well cared for. His sleeves though, were torn off and his arms could be mistaken for cannons. His short wild light brown hair was muddled with red from his homelands. He grabbed a glass and poured some water into it. He drank from it and some of the water dripped off from his well kept goatee. He brushed off the remaining drops with his gloved hand and spotted a fresh face.


"Ya ain't from heres. But you got the look of a highlander. Been a while since I've seen the mountains of Ellis. What are ya doing here, lad? Helena send ya?" He asked, scratching his chin.


"Uh, yea. You could say that. I haven't been to Ellis since the Rite of Passage." He paused, seeing Balthazar stare at him with questioning sapphire eyes. He continued after swallowing a sip of cider, "I. . . found my way here after I received the message. I'm Galen. Galen Falken of Sherida, Ellis."





Balthazar nodded and pointed at the empty chair in front of him. "Have a seat. Hand Lt. Fung that pad. She'll need to analyze it's contents. Hand Sgt. McHolly your your bag. He needs to make sure you aren't some sort of assassin. No offense to you, but you're a poor excuse for one if you are."


Following the instructions, for fear of being blasted, he gave his gear to the massive bear of a man. He placed his mug on the table before sitting down. He brought his hacking pad to the main screen, unlocking his data files and his history. He had nothing to hide -- liar -- he had nothing to hide from them that was going to get him thrown in a cell for life. He placed the pad in front of the very serious looking woman and glanced over at the doctor. He briefly smiled and looked back down while they investigated his gear.


McHolly placed the contents in front of him from the bag. "Looks like he's a scavenger from all these tools and equipment. Not to mention... this!" he exclaimed as he pulled out the piece of hardware in his pack. " Rikar M4 Acceleration Unit, one of the most expensive piece of equipment in a warp drive... from a PAC Cruiser! Lad, you got balls the size of eldar logs if ya scavenged from PAC space. Ain't a bloody fool think of taking from PAC space that ain't got a death wish."

 

[Dirtbear]

(Poke)

 

[Dirtbear]

(Poke)

 

[Dirtbear]

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