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| - Landing Bay - Hancock Station - This incredible chamber sports almost a square mile of poured plascrete, all watched over by a high communications tower. Most of the ceiling of this chamber is of a lightly buzzing blue energy, allowing ships in and out with a minimum of atmosphere loss. Cheery lighting fixtures line the walls in stark contrast to the otherwise utilitarian nature of the bay. There is a set of double doors near the back of the bay, manned by half a dozen armed New Luna Militia members. Thu Apr 20 12:57:34 3006 Jeff Ryan is sitting with his back against the Hobart, a light beer in his hand. Field kit in hand, Tay descends the Outcast's ramp. He passes next to the sleek nose cone of the Black Sheep and heads for the Hobart, waving lightly to Jeff as he goes. "Lady smile, there," he calls. Taeren executes a scan of the NLM Hobart. Jeff Ryan waves in return to Taeren, "Lady smile." He looks as though he's about to say something else, but his PDA beeps and he pulls it out for a read. He does and sips the beer as he does so. "What's new?" The Timonae hops up to the second rung of the Hobart's access ladder, his field kit swinging and coming lightly to rest atop the hull. He climbs up to join it, opening a hatch behind the cockpit and beginning to hook parts of the field kit up to wires found there. Ryan frowns as he reads the message, "I've got a bad feeling in my gut. This could definitely be a problem." "What could?" Tay asks. He clambers towards the rear of the Hobart with a small plasma torch, pulling on goggles and beginning to work on the rear stabilizer fin and thruster nacelles. The lunite stands and follows the timonae as he guesses, "I think I know why the damned G'ahnli won't give us the vote to get us into OATO." "They want to buy up this planet's natural resources, you think?" Tay asks. He chuckles. "Make it impossible for noncitizens to have the right to mine. Simple." The lunite shakes his head, that emotionless tone suiting his expression for once, "No laughing matter. I don't want to risk this colony just so some over-rich fat fish, can just get fatter." He takes another sip of the beer, thinking, "I can't see any clear way to stop them though." A globule of plasma settles around a jagged edge of metal on the damaged stabilizer, melts it through, and then sends tiny sparks of superheated material in gentle arcs as it encounters cooler metal and contracts, a deadly flower. One spark hits Tay's goggles and bounces off; the Timonae is unfazed. "You talk like you're the planetary emperor instead of just its part time ambassador," he says drily. "You think the fish are going to make a power play? They respect the law, right - so if something's already owned, and the owner ain't selling ..." The lunite shakes his head, if the timonae could see Jeff's face it's one of, 'poor naive child', "I've had some dealings with the G'ahnli in the past. Murder, mayhem and powerplays are more their game. Only thing that counts is the profit. Some of them had a sivadian murdered a while back to stop his companies production of some source of energy or other. I investigated, but without breaking into their office on G'ahnlo not nothing I could prove." He shakes his head, "One of my team is investigating right now this murder in the Outlook Club on G'ahnlo. New Lunite structural engineer, involved in some offshore project with the G'ahnli." Taeren's brows knit. "There's a connection," Tay observes. He stops his welding. "Yep," nods Jeff. "But right now it's just conjecture. My associate is looking into it for me, if we can get some solid proof..." "This is dangerous stuff," Tay points out. He shakes his head, dropping underneath the Hobart with a quick jump to shore up work he'd apparently done earlier on the Hobart. "I'm just a contractor - I naturalized here because I didn't have anywhere else specifically to be - but still, I'd hate to see a place like this turned into a cash cow. Doesn't stasidenum mining kill the environment?" "Honestly," admits the Ambassador. "I don't know what it would involve, but if it does involve destroying the place, even just the area around the mine. I know I don't want the Corporations involved." He finishes the last of the beer, just thrusting the empty bottle into his pocket for safekeeping. "Still, the G'ahnli can't be all bad," Tay says. "They had that resort idea that sounded nice." "Murder, mayhem profit and screwing with our future safety versus a nice resort," nods Jeff. "If it wasn't so damned serious I'd be inclined to chuckle." There is a definite bemusement rather than anger playing in those eyes though. "I'm more concerned with getting this fighter up to snuff," Tay says. "On the surface it doesn't look that quick, but after I cleared everything out and put some new parts in, the engines did real well on the dynos - for engines only about halfway up to spec. She should have some decent zip to her. "I looked up the standard defiant a while back, bounty-hunter on La Terre was flying one," says Jeff. "Not that great, but if she has her engines modified, thruster upgraded a little and nice little sensor package thrown in... would at least be serviceable as a scout ship, albeit a poor one." "Does this one look familiar?" Tay asks with a chuckle. "Wings missing, holes in. Could be the same one, just salvaged." "It's occurred to me," chuckles Jeff. "But La Terre is still a long haul in normal space." "Everything's a long haul in normal space," Tay says with a laugh. The lunite nods and chuckles at that, "Don't I know it. Was one of the advantages of hiding out in 'just the Sol System' for most of my adult life. Most people would think that's a pretty small place for the Fleeters to search..." Taeren shakes his head. "You spend a couple hours without an FTL drive and you think different," Tay replies, expression heavy. "But it ain't fun." "Amen," agrees Jeff. "I didn't mind so much, got used to it after years." "You were expecting it," Tay points out. "Good crew," remembers Jeff. "Not thought about them in years though." He pats the side of the Hobart, "How soon until she's flying?" "She's spaceworthy," Tay replies. "Just about. Give it two, three more days." Jeff Ryan gives a sharp nod and then a smile, "Good. I hear the engineering department's been complaining about how much time is being spent on her." Taeren shakes his head. "Just Cole," he says with a chuckle. "It's a project, just like any other. The station is just about up and running, so, why not?" Ryan chuckles and nods, "Small project, few resources, good for morale and we get a 'free' ship." "Exactly. Maybe I could train some pilots on it." He looks from the Hobart to the Black Sheep. "She's not so different from the Sheep, in terms of weight characteristics. It's no vroomhopper or Jackhammer, but it'd be better practice for a would-be fighter pilot than flying the Franklin." He chuckles. "By the way, you know anything about the racing scene? I'm looking for competitors." "I was supposed to be signed on to the Tomin Kora team," notes Jeff. "But no, I'm too busy just now and expect to be busier later." The tall timonae and the lunite are standing at the rear of that most beautiful of wrecks, the Hobart. Taeren nods. "I guess we have different priorities," he says, then smirks. "But it doesn't look like you're so busy from where I'm standing." The Timonae slams his fist against a rusted side access panel, and it opens. He pulls a small belt sander off of his toolbelt and starts to sand off the rust, replacing his goggles beforehand. Rust and sparks flicker around him, some particles getting on his goggles. Periodically he'll wipe them with the back of his hand. "I don't have time to dedicate myself to a team," chuckles Jeff. "But my ship could probably use a stretch of her engines occasionally." The big Zangali ducks out of the shuttle and ambles across the landing pad in the direction of the marine's stationed at the double door. Once he reaches them, he says, "Stupid softskin marine. Say all marines here." The marine the Zangali addressed nods once and speaks into his commlink. While he speaks, the Zangali gives the marines the once over with his functional eye. "I'm not looking for a pro circuit," Tay says. "I've had my fill of that. I'm looking for pride, cash and slips races. Last time I took a pro circuit, I wound up in a coma." He gestures. "That's too much to worry about for me. Nah, I just want to put it out on the street I'll put my slip on the Sheep up against anyone who thinks they can take me, for cash or slips. And of someone shows up wanting to burn with me, I'll burn," he explains, raising his voice to be heard over the sander. He stops to brush the surface off with a rag from his back pocket and inspect it appraisingly, eyes invisible behind the dark goggles. After a moment, he starts sanding rust off parts he missed. "Now, in the meantime," he yells over the sander, "I want to get this guy's hull looking nice so I can paint it yellow before Karlan knows what's coming." Ryan talks during the brief pause, "I'll take you up one of these days in that case." As the timonae starts to sand again, he simply grins and heads over to talk with his former bodyguard. Urfkgar doesn't say anything further to the marines, folding his arms across his chest and waiting. The marines shift about, trying not to look at the Zangali. Taeren looks up at Ryan, stopping his sander. "You just come find me," he calls after the Lunite, grinning. There's a pause, and he returns to sanding off the rust patches on the hull. Now and again, he'll sand off a patch so badly rusted that he exposes wiring and structural components underneath. Ryan approaches the marines, making his way through until he finds Urf, "Training again Mr Urfkgar?" "Yup. Marines no work now. Train now," says the Zangali. "I suppose you don't care if I join you again," asks Jeff with a smile. "Nope. Urf no care," says Urfkgar. As he speaks a couple of marines trot through the double doors and into the landing bay. They cluster off to the side in something resembling a formation. The Zangali ignores them for now. Ryan nods, this time he leaves on his flak jacket. Taeren finishes sanding. He disappears into his ship and re-emerges with steelfoam. "Marines no know morerer stuff," says Urfkgar while he scratches at his shoulder. "Marines no know stuff. Urf no trainededed. Urf train marines morerer. Marines know stuff. Marines know want kill stuff. Marines know want train. Marines no stupid softskins. Marines marines. Urf train." The Zangali's brief speech is met with a few more uncomfortable looks and a couple of downright hostile ones which the one eyed lizard doesn't seem to notice. Scratching at his shoulder, the Zangali muses, "Stupid softskins want train real stuff? Want train grabass stuff?" This time he gets an answer from a member of the hostile stare crowd, "I'm not a marine to waste my time playing stupid games." Ryan is also glaring, but not at the lizard, but back at the marines. Eventually his glare fixes on the man speaking up. The glare switches to a smile, "Chief, sound like we have a volunteer for a demonstration." His looks is one of smiling challenge. Taeren starts to steelfoam over minor holes he burned in the hull with the sander, using an aerosol can in his other hand to mark them with red circles of spraypaint. He steps back after a moment and starts to make seemingly arbitrary markings on the Hobart's hull in the paint, overwriting someone else's scrawls in grease marker and chalk. Urfkgar grunts and nods to Ryan, still scratching at his shoulder. He asks the hostile stare spokesperson, "Stupid softskin know marine stuff? No need train? Stupid softskin think Urf no know Urf do? Stupid softskin think morerer gooderer marine Urf? Urf say stupid softskin do marine stuff morerer gooderer Urf. Stupid softskin train Urf. Urf say Urf do marine stuff morerer gooderer stupid softskin. Urf train stupid softskin. Urf no care stupid softskin do stuff morerer gooderer Urf. Stupid softskin do. Urf need train. Urf no know stupid softskin do morerer gooderer Urf. Stupid softskin no mosterer gooderer marine Urf see all times." The marine looks away from the Zangali to the rest of his nasty look group. Looking back at Urf, he says, "You might be big, but you only have one eye. I could out shoot you, Chief. We don't need some Zangali training us, anyway, we're already marines." Jeff Ryan raises his voice, "How many did we beat together Mr Urfkgar?" He grins from Urfkgar to the group. "Urf no know," admits the Zangali to Ryan before answering the marine and gesturing towards the double doors, "Urf do. Go fake fight thingy place. All marines go no work." The formation dissolves as the marines fall out and troop through the double doors. The Zangali grumbles and scratches at his shoulder some more, waiting for them to leave. "About four each," says Jeff as he follows through the doors. He makes sure his voice is heard, and gets a few muted disbelieving stares in response. More than a few however have heard the story before, they were the ones not giving the nasty glares in the first place. Still scratching at his shoulder, Urfkgar trails behind. Urfkgar heads into Lobby . Urfkgar has left. The marines have already drawn weapons by the time Ryan and the large lizard show up. The talkative one is holding one and another is leaning against a two by four beside him. Jeff Ryan shakes his head and draws his own weapon, nice little 'Equality' DS Pistol. He looks uncertain if he's going to have to actually use it though. Urfkgar walks over and picks up the rifle, eyeballing the marine. He asks, "What stupid softskin want do?" The marine looks a bit taken aback as his opinion is asked, but he answers, "Doesn't matter to me, Chief." Upper Prominade - Hancock Station - Barren and shadowy, this long strip boasts dozens of abandoned, skeletal storefronts. A humongous pile of debris has been swept to the end of the strip, and a few new-looking 2x4's have been used to prop up some of the more structurally unsound storefronts. A few shooting targets have been set up on the pile of debris, and a spraypainted line has been drawn fifty yards back. A broken escalator leads down to the lower prominade. Thu Apr 20 15:20:23 3006 Contents: Exits: Chief Urfkgar |LP| Lower Prominade Jeff Ryan glances over at the targets and takes position at the fifty yards line, "Four shots, best man wins." He smiles at Urf. The answer might have been a mistake because Urfkgar points to the escalator. He says, "Urf do. Stupid softskin see. Stupid softskin do Urf doeded." The Zangali looks over at Ryan and says, "Stupid softskin marine. No remph. All stuff do fake fight stuff. No doeded stuff. Marine do fake fight stuff. Doeded morerer stuff." The marine looks over at Ryan then at the broken escalator. He says, "Uh, ok, chief. Watch you. Then, do what you did." Ryan nods and turns to see what Urf's about to do with the broken escalator. Well, for now the Zangali simply walks down it, with the pulse assault rifle dangling from one hand. The challenger to marine supremacy follows. Jeff Ryan waits to see what the challenged marine is going to do. It's rare for Jeff to actually smirk, but he does so. The large lizard comes bounding up the escalator at a fairly decent clip, skipping multiple steps as he charges upwards. Once clear of the escalator, he hustles off to throw himself into the scant cover provided by the storefronts. He doesn't fire, though. This seems to be more of a dry run, and he low crawls forward to the next piece of cover provided, dragging himself foward with his claws and keeping flat. The marine walks along after the lizard. Jeff shakes his head and sends a couple of well-placed shots just in behind the marine's feet, the lunite roars, "He said do what he did. Now move!" Once at the next bit of cover available to him, the Zangali pops up on a knee. He simulates firing his weapon again, like he did at the first bit of cover. He ignores the Lunite, but the marine falls on his face and low crawls the rest of the way to Urfkgar's position. The Zangali pops up again and scurries towards the next bit of cover which is a bit farther along, so he covers the ground in three to five second rushes, crashing to the ground and picking himself up again between short sprints. The marine does likewise. When the Zangali finally arrives behind cover, he goes into the prone and mimics shooting around it. The marine mirrors his actions on the other side of the rubish pile. Jeff Ryan nods his head in satisfaction, he's trying to restrain himself to remember Urf's in charge. He just holds his now hot pistol in his hand and offers a challenging glare to the other marines to satisfy himself. The other marines avoid Ryan's gaze, pretending to be highly interested in how the dry run is going. The Zangali high crawls forward to the next suitable fighting position, moving on his elbows and using his feet to push himself forward. The marine does the same off to his side. The pair are about at the fifty yard line now when they stop behind another structurally unsound store front. The Zangali runs through his fake firing deal before picking up and loping forward. He keeps himself hunched over for what good that will do him, and he keeps the rifle buttstock up against his shoulder; although, it looks slightly ridiculus in his hands. Keeping the barrel moving back and forth in sync with his head, he advances the last fifty yards to the target. The marine does the same. Jeff Ryan just watches the advance, as Urf looks slightly ridiculous he just glares in challenge at the Marines to laugh. The Zangali straightens up and looks over at the marine. He asks, "Stupid softskin know do?" The marine nods, taking a quick look over at Ryan. He says, "Yes, chief." Jeff Ryan smiles good naturedly and holsters his pistol. "Gooderer," grunts Urfkgar. He waves the assembled marines and ambassador back beyond the escalator, saying, "Go. No need stupid marine shoot stuff." The marines all go stand behind the escalator other than the challenger. He and Urf go back down. Jeff Ryan gets ready beside the other marines. He glances from one to the other. The pair are neck and neck as the huff and puff up the escalatort, one running up what would be the down side and the other hurrying up the up side. The race continues to be close as they toss themselves into the cover of the storefronts, opening fire at the distant target. Jeff Ryan watches with interest, he can't help cheering on Urf. Both hit their designated targets and low crawl towards the next set, dragging themselves across the rough ground as quickly as possible. They align their weapons on their targets once more as they arrive behind the next bit of cover, firing once more. Jeff Ryan smiles as Urf at least keeps up. His cheering gets louder, most of the marines are cheering on 'Decker' it turns out. Again, they both manage to hit their targets, but it's clear even from a distance that the Zangali's aim was closer to the mark. Urfkgar pushes himself up to his feet, and the marine does likewise. The next bit of running seems to take a lot out of both of them, the large lizard in particular as he crashes down repeatedly. The marine beats him to the next firing point, and he gets off his shot before the Zangali arrives. Jeff Ryan cheers on the Urfigator, he's being drowned out though by Decker's friends. Both hit their targets again, but the Zangali's aim still seems to be closer to the mark. They high crawl forward to the next position, the work of dragging himself along getting to the marine. The Zangali passes him up on the long crawl, firing again. The marine pants as he pulls himself up to the position after the large lizard. A few by now are starting to take up Ryan's call. Or he might just have turned up the volume. The smoked marine's aim is a bit less steady now while the Zangali seems untroubled as he lurches to his feet and advances on the target, firing as he moves. The marine gets up slowly and follows the lizard, firing as well. The Zangali's aim remains better than the marine's, but the marine doesn't embarass himself too badly. Urfkgar lowers his weapon, putting the pulse rifle on safe. The marine does the same, panting. Jeff Ryan cheers! A few of the other marines have switched sides, some are still cheering for Decker, even though he's the loser. "Urf train all times," says the Zangali, explaining the situation to the marine. "Stupid softskin no train all times. No do all train stuff. Do fake fight stuff. No do go stuff. Urf do go stuff. Urf do fake fight stuff. Urf train stupid softskin marine all stuff. Stupid softskin marine do morerer gooderer." The marine nods, "Right, chief. All stuff." Jeff Ryan smiles and glances at Urf, "Not bad Mr Urfkgar, not bad." "Urf know. Urf mosterer gooderer marine all times," says the Zangali. He walks over to stand behind the escalator, and the marine follows him. The Zangali points out a marine and says, "Go do thingy." He looks at Ryan, "Want do?" Jeff Ryan shrugs and nods, he keeps his battle-gear on too, "Got an energy rifle though?" Urfkgar checks the charge on his rifle and extends it to Ryan. He says, "Thingy gooderer." Jeff Ryan takes the rifle and takes his place next to the marine, "When you're ready Mr Urfkgar." "Go," says the Zangali. The marine races up the escalator, moving quicker than the previous competetors. And they're off! Down and back up, Ryan is right after him, then in front, then neck and neck as they reach the top. The marine hits the first firing position, tossing himself down into the prone as he shoots. Doing nothing spectacular but hitting somewhere near the edge of the target. Jeff is right there with him, the lunite lets off a blast. He hits the target, just a smidgen off dead-center, he doesn't wait, just starts running same as his rival. The marine drags himself along the deck as he low crawls towards the next bit of cover, holding his rifle by the front sling swivel. He fires when he reaches it. Jeff Ryan throws himself down, just outside the cover and crawls towards the next bit of cover and lets off his next shot. The marine gets a better shot off compared to time before he pushes up and begins to bound on towards the next position, throwing himself on the ground and picking himself up to make himself a harder target as he runs. He shoots from the knee at the next position. Ryan's shot is almost symmetrical to the marines. He sets off at a run and copying the man's moves a little, he gets the idea, dropping down and rising. When he's in position he raises the rifle to line up and shoots. The marine seems to have the high crawl down fairly well, moving quickly along and firing from the last stationary position of the event. Ryan copes, but he's not faring quite as well as the marine, a little slower as he takes up position after the high crawl. The marines, meanwhile, have been busy cheering their man on. The Zangali has trailed behind the pair, keeping his eye on things. Ryan doesn't even smile as his shot is again better, knowing he's in front of 'the men', he stands and advances. The marine's all give Ryan slightly different looks after that last shot. The Zangali grunts what might be approval, and the competition studies the targets, shaking his head. "I guess you win, ambassador." Ryan gives a slight nod of the head, he glances at the targets, and that burn mark dead center. "Not a bad showing yourself old man." That voice like asphalt. He gives a nod to Urfkgar. The Zangali points out two marines as he walks back towards the escalator with the recently finished marine following him. Urfkgar points out two marines who haven't gone yet, and they head down the escalator. Ryan approaches Urfkgar, "Thanks for the workout. We'll need to make this a regular thing." He glances back at the lift. "Keep up the good work." "Yup. Train all times," says the Zangali. He bellows, "Go!" The marines come charging up the escalator and begin the drill. Jeff Ryan is panting slightly and nods to Urf, "I'll join you later Mr Urfkgar." The lunite heads towards the lift. The Zangali nods as he follows the marines through the drill.
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