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Author Topic: When the money runs out,  (Read 534 times)

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Anonymous

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When the money runs out,
« on: October 02, 2011, 08:51:02 pm »
It had been very nearly a year now since Sibes had stepped foot on Earth, and she wasn't sure now, standing just outside an abandoned warehouse, if she regretted her return or not. Technology was a fickle thing - this meeting could have taken place with her comfortably in her ship out in the Wild Black, but who knew what communication was secure anymore. Funny how much things had advanced and how much they had declined. Privacy was a thing of the past, traded in for big shiny wings and replacement limbs.

"Io," Sibes said between puffs of a cigarette, "hows our perimeter."

Clear. Lesser lifeforms detected 3 kilometers south. No approaching craft or vehicle.

"What about below?"

All scans read clear.

"So that's it then," she sighed, smoke plumes billowing from her lips, "just you and me, Pilot." Shrugging her jacket on, Sibes checked the holster at her hip to make sure her newly acquired but most prized possession aside from her ship was there; the Magestorm 13. There was no shaking the paranoia that Thanatos INC was right on her heels, and she sure as hell wouldn't be taking any chances. But in her previous experience with this man he'd proven trustworthy and he'd been a good source of income. The jobs weren't terribly difficult but the payoff was normally twice what she could get from anywhere else. Worth the risk? She hoped it would continue to be, she needed new parts and information after all.

The woman crossed the short distance to the warehouse quickly and quietly, her natural eye constantly flickering from one suspicious shadow to the next. Dusk was a good time for cover, but provided little overhead. As she reached the short side of the building she pressed against the paneling, searching for that one loose sheet that would grant her entrance, and upon finding it squeezing her tall, lithe frame through like a cat through an open fence-board. Inside it was dark, dank, and mildly chilly. She'd never come to appreciate the doom-and-gloom atmosphere, but if it kept her out of prying eyes then so be it.

"Some things never change," she muttered to herself, switching the eye cover of her head band from her right to her left eye in order to let her cyborg optic to go to work. In the pitch black of the abandoned warehouse her natural eye was of little use, but the mechanical eye had a list of functions over a mile long, and was easily capable of sorting through all the muck. She found him seated at a bench and table that was once likely a meeting place of sorts. Ocea hadn't a clue what the building's purpose was before the destruction of the city, but on her odd visits her mind would fill things in. Ghosts of people and machinery, a strange amalgamation of things put together through her travels, memories, and experiences that likely were nothing close to the truth but entertained a nostalgia for her past. Some time ago this place was prosperous in many ways and helped to support the lives of many people. Now it served only one purpose: to help support the life of two people in dreary dark secrecy.

Baffling and ironic.

"Wotcher," Sibes gave the man a two-finger salute as she approached. Stopping just opposite him at the table, she pulled a chair out for herself and calmly took a seat, "Been some time," she began, pulling her cigarette tin from the inner lining pocket of her coat, selecting her habit for the meeting and promptly lighting it with a tarnished zippo, "hope you haven't started going senile, old man," a personal jab and joke between them as they were both fairly close in age and neither of them looked as young as they could if they were enjoying a life of luxury. Though, Sibes was looking fairly tan given her year-long retreat to dragon-knows-where, "I thought you'd about forgotten me in your note. So I suspect you've been busy while I've been away, but then I thought to myself," she leaned back in her chair and dropped the ash from her cigarette on the floor, "how could you possibly forget a face like this one?"

Hands indicated the diodes and scarring of her right eye. Though very few people were unfortunate enough to ever see that, Reaver had been one of them. She chuckled and took another drag, speaking with the butt pinched in her lips, "but here we are. So, how can I be of service?"
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

Anonymous

  • Guest
Re: When the money runs out,
« Reply #1 on: October 06, 2011, 11:39:37 pm »
It was interesting to see his old 'courier' suddenly show up on the grid again, after almost a year of silence. Of course it wasn't surprising as few people in the business of 'odd jobs' ever really got up enough money to quit while they were ahead. It was much more likely to go down fighting after biting off more than one can chew.

Then again this particular courier had all the qualities that he needed on quite a few of his jobs. She had the equipment to smuggle, and the brains to get the job done while following the rules. Chief among these rules was not opening the package. He payed her extra for a good job even if the jobs were seemingly easy.

Only that was about to change.

Pilot Relens had finally stopped pacing and found an old dusty bench to sit on once he received confirmation that a ship matching his description had moved into the zone. A short amount of time passed before her figure emerged from the shadows.

Eye patch, cybernetic eye, scars and diodes ... well Reaver always did like a rugged woman.

"Sibes," responded the man with a nod of his head to her informal salute. A chuckle followed with her joke as she sat down. "It has been some time yes, but I see that you aren't dead so you must be doing well," he added in response. They had managed to live this far, hopefully that trend continued.

"I am out of errand jobs, but I do have a situation brewing up on Edanith. I need someone to get me in through their defenses to the frontier. Of course thats the easy part given their defenses on the frontier."
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

Anonymous

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Re: When the money runs out,
« Reply #2 on: October 07, 2011, 01:58:51 pm »
Sibes stared at him for a long while in resolute silence. Gears turning, thoughts flowing, whatever it was going on inside the half human, half cyborg was strictly confidential to her. One thing she'd learned in her few years as a Merc: never get too close or too personal with your Paycash. It just made things...eh, annoying.

"I have some...problems with returning to Edanith," she said finally, leaning back on her seat and allowing her gaze to roll towards the ceiling where through gaps and holes she could make out the last vestiges of sunlight leaving the otherwise spotless black sky. Somewhere beyond the stars would be starting to show, but she couldn't see that far, and even farther past was the world of Edanith, slowly spinning away. How she had lucked out that none of her jobs required actually landing on Edanith...she had no idea. Nothing had taken her closer than the moons.

There was a lot on Edanith that she wasn't ready to face just yet. Least of all: Thanatos INC.

"I need a minute," Sibes pushed herself up from her seat and made her way back to the loose panel section, exiting.

"Io?"

Returning to Edanith poses great risk of capture by Thanatos INC Agents. the AI's voice chimed back to her via a receiver installed in the cyborg implant in her skull.

"That's what I'm worried about."

However, odds and risk of capture on Edanith are lower than those posed by our current station.

Of course, there was that. So far her luck had been with her on Aedolis, but she'd always been very careful to steer clear of the major cities. Perhaps simply following the same precautions would do her just as well on Edanith.

The ship requires repairs and replenishment of many things. Your current financial situation cannot support fulfilling all of them.

"So, it'll be grits and bread for a while then."

We have enough funds to refuel the ship only. It would be unsound to leave without payment. Even seeking further employment on Cancer would prove futile. One cannot fly without fuel, and one cannot fuel without funds. Are you listening Sibes?

"You know, I liked you better when you were less...intelligent and more artificial."

That is an unfair statement.

"Right." Sibes re-entered the building, her mind set but very much insecure about what it was set on. She moved with purpose and some haste, knowing that if she dilly-dallied too long that she'd probably change her mind, "So," she sat down again, returning to her abandoned cigarette and lighting it up again, "I'm going to require a forward payment. Ship needs fuel, and speaking of payment...how much are we talking about here and what exactly am I supposed to do?" Picking up, transporting, and dropping off a shipment of undisclosed subjects was one thing. Uninvolved and simple, even if illegal and dangerous. But transporting a known government official to an enemy planet...well, he'd better be paying a lot more than he had on his other jobs.
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

Anonymous

  • Guest
Re: When the money runs out,
« Reply #3 on: October 07, 2011, 07:36:09 pm »
The Pilot raised his eyebrows as she got up to leave, but said nothing to stop her. Did she have someone to talk to or did she do her concentration better outside? It was hard to say, but he figured he'd give her a few minutes. He'd know if the ship left.

Of course she came back almost as fast as she had left. Certainly sooner than he had expected. Solaiel also had an AI implanted in his cranium, but his focused more on providing calculations and keeping track of Intel than actually carrying on a conversation. Reaver eyed her facial expressions looking for clues as to her thoughts as she re approached. Whatever she did out there, it seemed like she was over her problems with Edanith.

"A forward payment?"

Relens leaned back a bit and eyed her for a moment. She was hasty to return and accept with some terms, but he certainly did need her and her equipment to be in optimal shape.

"I like you Ocephora, so I tell you what ... i'm willing to give you thirty thousand credits up front for your fuel and whatever items you need in Aedolis. Then i'll give you another thirty if we both make it back to Aedolis mostly intact. I know double crossing me won't cross your mind for obvious reasons."

A Mercenary or Smuggler couldn't make sixty thousand credits worth anyone's currency on a single job unless they stole and were selling something of that value. Of course he seemed to understand that running a ship was an expensive proposition.

"As I said, getting in will be the easy part since we're going to the frontier. I'll need you on the ground with me afterwards though. My team has gone dark and I need to find out what happened to their objective. Once we've found the package we'll get the hell out of there. Naturally if we're captured its game over."
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 04:00:00 pm by Guest »

 

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