03-24-2015, 04:08 AM
The bright lights of the artificial sun and the blue sky hanging overhead began to wain as the sun was beginning to end's journey to the horizon. Streetlight flickered on, the brilliant yellow light contrasting against the muted oranges and maroons that were streaking across the darker marine and lazy clouds that still floated along, all reflected across the rippling waters of the sea. It was quite a beautiful sight, even if it was designed by committee for that exact reason. A rare scene for myself as I had spend more of my life in the more land locked parts of my home, or off in space were seeing the sun meant you were a few inches of plastic from dying via explosive decompression. Or the red sky of Hell, the memories of such displacing the earlier thoughts and continuing to ruin all that was good in the world. Even when I had escaped from the place, it was still making my life miserable. I quickly pushed those back and tried to reminisce on the better times, but the moment was soured. I gave a very audible grunt at my frustration, a fair warning to everyone else, and I kept on moving through town.
Even thought the evening was beginning with the setting of the sun, the island was no less busy for it. Although the beach goers had abandoned the sandy seaside as the heat fell to a more biting temperature and the swimsuits were switched to a more full bodies, but no less casual, attire. Restaurants and theaters readied themselves for their peak business, groups of friends traveled to parties and whatever entertainment they they scrounged up, and fishermen sneaked over to get some night fishing in now that the waters have becomes less occupied with boats. I was wondering what I would be doing that night, in particular where I was going to sleep. The other day I had the benefit of captain Choprot's shops for food and bed, and now I was on my own for resources. Having OM meant food wasn't a problem, but a sleeping place was probably going to cost me if I wanted anything that wasn't a hole in a ground. Maybe I could find a park and sleep on a bench. Wouldn't be the first time.
As I was thinking over what I was going to do for the night, I saw movement coming right at me. Instinct kicked in and I reached for the pistol at my belt but thankfully I managed to stop myself when the two shapes held their hands up, to intentionally catch my attention. two humans, teenagers, both with unkempt facial hair yet very expensive tee-shits and jeans. College kids would be what I would call them, if I didn't doubt that the Omniverse had anything resembling higher education. Their frantic waves and heavy breathing told me something was up, but I couldn't help but wonder why they came up to me instead of someone who didn't look like a roving crazed gunman. Not that I'm crazy.
"Dude, you got to help us" one of them shouted in his panicked state, the look in his face giving a plea of urgency. The other was having too much trouble speaking as he was chanting "oh my god" over and over and clutching his head as if it was about to explode. "Our friend is in trouble"
Now, I'm sure you're expecting me to chase after the kids straight away to help their friend and there'd be a happily ever after. I going to have to disappoint you on that, as I am far more cynical than your typical comic book hero. Maybe I would have been more willing, if this exact tactic hadn't been used before on a squad I was once in to lead us into an ambush. It is heartless, I agree, but it was a problem easily solved. Wait out the pleader in silence and see how they change their reaction. If they start to falter, or over-blow the acting, then it's safe to assume they're bullshiting you. Otherwise, you should probably consider helping the people in need.
It didn't take long for the act to unravel. Both were still panicked, but it went unfocused, the agency lost and self preservation was settling in. They glanced around themselves, I guessed in hope of finding a way out of the situation. But they seemed less concerned about me, the person who'd was probably going to drag them off into a corner and beat them (not really), so I had wondered why they didn't focus that panic on me.
It was answered as I felt some grip around my shoulder, a massive hand warping itself around my armored pad and a good deal of my neck and back, and the sudden feeling of weightlessness as I was uprooted from my spot on the sidewalk, dragged into the alleyway nearby, then thrown across the length of it until I made a sudden stop and slammed back first into a dumpster with a loud gong followed with dropping back down to the floor. My armor took the blunt of the trauma to my back and front, but the agony and ringing in my ears was not too similar to having the worse hangover ever, and I remember wanting the entire NATO marching band to stop playing on top of my head. My sight readjusted from the change in light and the blow to the back of the head and saw my assailant.
Assailants, actually. The first, wielding a baseball bat in one hand, looked completely pear shaped in form, standing at my height, and was literally yellow in skin. Shades rested upon his massive, bulbous nose, but the most noticeable feature was the miniature palm tree growing straight out of his head and the palm skirt around his waist, which contrasted with the sharp, black suit he wore over his torso. The other, the one who had thrown me, was very much the best example of the word "ogre". ten feet tall, ugly in every single way, broad as a barn and skin with the thickness, texture, and even color leather. His face looked like it was hit with a sledgehammer and poorly put back together, even his eyes weren't quite the same size. He was clothed in just a wifebeater and some very wide shorts, but I was more worried about the chains wrapped around his fists as makeshift knuckleduster to be worried about its sense of fashion. Coming up the rear, pushing the two teenagers forward with a machine pistol, was a human. Shaved head and pasty skin over gaunt muscles, is suspected based on the constant twitch in his eyes that either he was either on or hoping for a fix. A group of more obvious career criminals you could not find.
The palm tree man gave a look back over to the two teens and the tweaker, not at all happy with the situation. I thought I could reach for my shotgun while his head was turned, but the giant spotted me and put his foot down on my hand, pinning it to my chest. The giant sack of shit was smarter than it looked, not that that's an accomplishment.
"Ya think you can out smart us, going to a soldier boy" The plant man scolded the two in a very stereotypical mafia gangster accent. The only thing he was missing was the hat and a Thompson. "We're done with him, we'll deal with you two. Jimmy, keep that gun on these two. If soldier boy tries something funny, blow them away" He threatened, "Jimmy" nodding with a big enthusiastic smile, and pushed the two teens town and aimed away.
"Alright, what's the deal? You can't be doing this for no reason" I decided to cut to the chase, hiding only a little of my contempt for the thugs. They may have sold me out, but you don't threaten civilians while I'm around.
"Deal? No deal. We're just gonna rough you up and take everything you're worth for. Give 'im the once over" he commanded the big guy. It was a little more mundane than I was expecting, but unsurprising. Some people are just assclowns, and sometimes they pick you. However, it was still not a good situation. Hostages under threat, and I was about to be pounded into slurry. I had find an advantage some where. Palm head was profession, big guy was too dumb to trick. That left "jimmy"
"You know, I'm insulted" I gave my best show, trying to get the attention away from the teens. The tweaker kept glancing between me and his charges "If you're going to be cohere me into keeping those two jackasses alive, you should at least take the safety off"
A profession soldier would have never fallen for that. Or at the very least, would have just flipped the safety off without ever leaving the target. But with being addled by chemicals and already twitchy my nature, the gun trotting thug turned his weapon to the side and up to see if he had done so. With his gun pointed away, I quick drew my pistol and let out a shot. The bullet scored him in the leg, and gripped with pain he fell backwards, squeezing the trigger of his automatic all the way down and blasting a trail of bullet holes all the way up the wall. A hail of concrete sprinkled over everyone, and in the chaos I twisted my body and sent the ogre tumbling. Putting all his weight on top of me made him easy to manipulate, and he was face first on the ground as I got up to my feet.
The leader of the gang was the only one with his wits still about him, and he was quick to swing the bat at the pistol hand. With the dumpster right behind me me I didn't have a lot of room to maneuver, and the bat collided with the hand and sent the pistol flying off to the side. I felt all the little bone crying in pain, but nothing was broken. The bat wielder was ready to swing again with a overhead attack, but I was quicker as I reached out and grabbed the bottom of the handle, preventing him from attacking and following through with a kick to his gut. He fell over backwards, rolling over on his rounded body and dropping the bat as his head smacked the pavement.
Twitchy was recovering, pulling the machine pistol to gun me down. The dirt bag could have been smart and threatened the cowering hostages. But I think in his mind vengeance was a bigger priority. Junkies were never particularly clever that way. He let out a burst of shots, hitting where I once was and I dove for my pistol. Not to pick it up and shoot him. That would have taken too long. I already was reaching for my shotgun as I jumped out of the way, and when I was steady on the ground I unloaded the shotgun shell on him. The force pushed into my shoulder, the roar of gunpowder ripped through the air, and the pellet sprayed blood everywhere as they impacted on the thug's chest. He was sent spiraling to the ground, dead.
I scooped the pistol up and put is back in it's holster, a small smile creeping as I felt it back in it's place. The ogre was starting to get up, its large bulk making it hard to get upright. I didn't give it a chance, as I brought the stock down onto the back of its head. And again, and again. It was left dazed and reeling in agony, crumpled on the floor not dead but not going anywhere either. I turned back to the plant headed man, but he was off down the alleyway, retreating back into the safety of the seedy parts of town. I could have chased after him, but the safety of other was more important. Not that I couldn't let him go without a few parting word.
"That's right, you fuckwit! Run away and cower, tell your friends that you messed with the wrong soldier today!" Then I felt a gun being jammed into my back.
"Freeze. Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads" a voice through a slight electronic filter ordered at me. So, unknown amounts of authority behind me, got a weapon right ready to give my insides a new ventilation shaft. If these guys were anything like the troops at the gate, and they had the same voice, then they were heavily armed and armored. No chance winning that one. Just had to pick my battles and lose gracefully. I complied with the order with a slight agitated grunt, putting the weapons away and hands on head. It was quickly grappled, a little sting from my hurt hand racing up my arm as they cuffed, and I was turned around to see an entire squad was here. Apparently a gunshot gets you a lot of attention in Costa del Sol, or so I thought at the time. They rounded up the other three, leaving some other department to handle the corpse. We were marched into an armored car, all of us about to have a very close encounter of the uncomfortable kind.
As I head was pushed into back of the patty wagon, I noted one of the white armored troopers talking to another, checking over a screened device, and I overheard what they said.
"Is that the guy? The one in the green armor?" "Yep, that's him. The Lieutenant wants to see him"
Even thought the evening was beginning with the setting of the sun, the island was no less busy for it. Although the beach goers had abandoned the sandy seaside as the heat fell to a more biting temperature and the swimsuits were switched to a more full bodies, but no less casual, attire. Restaurants and theaters readied themselves for their peak business, groups of friends traveled to parties and whatever entertainment they they scrounged up, and fishermen sneaked over to get some night fishing in now that the waters have becomes less occupied with boats. I was wondering what I would be doing that night, in particular where I was going to sleep. The other day I had the benefit of captain Choprot's shops for food and bed, and now I was on my own for resources. Having OM meant food wasn't a problem, but a sleeping place was probably going to cost me if I wanted anything that wasn't a hole in a ground. Maybe I could find a park and sleep on a bench. Wouldn't be the first time.
As I was thinking over what I was going to do for the night, I saw movement coming right at me. Instinct kicked in and I reached for the pistol at my belt but thankfully I managed to stop myself when the two shapes held their hands up, to intentionally catch my attention. two humans, teenagers, both with unkempt facial hair yet very expensive tee-shits and jeans. College kids would be what I would call them, if I didn't doubt that the Omniverse had anything resembling higher education. Their frantic waves and heavy breathing told me something was up, but I couldn't help but wonder why they came up to me instead of someone who didn't look like a roving crazed gunman. Not that I'm crazy.
"Dude, you got to help us" one of them shouted in his panicked state, the look in his face giving a plea of urgency. The other was having too much trouble speaking as he was chanting "oh my god" over and over and clutching his head as if it was about to explode. "Our friend is in trouble"
Now, I'm sure you're expecting me to chase after the kids straight away to help their friend and there'd be a happily ever after. I going to have to disappoint you on that, as I am far more cynical than your typical comic book hero. Maybe I would have been more willing, if this exact tactic hadn't been used before on a squad I was once in to lead us into an ambush. It is heartless, I agree, but it was a problem easily solved. Wait out the pleader in silence and see how they change their reaction. If they start to falter, or over-blow the acting, then it's safe to assume they're bullshiting you. Otherwise, you should probably consider helping the people in need.
It didn't take long for the act to unravel. Both were still panicked, but it went unfocused, the agency lost and self preservation was settling in. They glanced around themselves, I guessed in hope of finding a way out of the situation. But they seemed less concerned about me, the person who'd was probably going to drag them off into a corner and beat them (not really), so I had wondered why they didn't focus that panic on me.
It was answered as I felt some grip around my shoulder, a massive hand warping itself around my armored pad and a good deal of my neck and back, and the sudden feeling of weightlessness as I was uprooted from my spot on the sidewalk, dragged into the alleyway nearby, then thrown across the length of it until I made a sudden stop and slammed back first into a dumpster with a loud gong followed with dropping back down to the floor. My armor took the blunt of the trauma to my back and front, but the agony and ringing in my ears was not too similar to having the worse hangover ever, and I remember wanting the entire NATO marching band to stop playing on top of my head. My sight readjusted from the change in light and the blow to the back of the head and saw my assailant.
Assailants, actually. The first, wielding a baseball bat in one hand, looked completely pear shaped in form, standing at my height, and was literally yellow in skin. Shades rested upon his massive, bulbous nose, but the most noticeable feature was the miniature palm tree growing straight out of his head and the palm skirt around his waist, which contrasted with the sharp, black suit he wore over his torso. The other, the one who had thrown me, was very much the best example of the word "ogre". ten feet tall, ugly in every single way, broad as a barn and skin with the thickness, texture, and even color leather. His face looked like it was hit with a sledgehammer and poorly put back together, even his eyes weren't quite the same size. He was clothed in just a wifebeater and some very wide shorts, but I was more worried about the chains wrapped around his fists as makeshift knuckleduster to be worried about its sense of fashion. Coming up the rear, pushing the two teenagers forward with a machine pistol, was a human. Shaved head and pasty skin over gaunt muscles, is suspected based on the constant twitch in his eyes that either he was either on or hoping for a fix. A group of more obvious career criminals you could not find.
The palm tree man gave a look back over to the two teens and the tweaker, not at all happy with the situation. I thought I could reach for my shotgun while his head was turned, but the giant spotted me and put his foot down on my hand, pinning it to my chest. The giant sack of shit was smarter than it looked, not that that's an accomplishment.
"Ya think you can out smart us, going to a soldier boy" The plant man scolded the two in a very stereotypical mafia gangster accent. The only thing he was missing was the hat and a Thompson. "We're done with him, we'll deal with you two. Jimmy, keep that gun on these two. If soldier boy tries something funny, blow them away" He threatened, "Jimmy" nodding with a big enthusiastic smile, and pushed the two teens town and aimed away.
"Alright, what's the deal? You can't be doing this for no reason" I decided to cut to the chase, hiding only a little of my contempt for the thugs. They may have sold me out, but you don't threaten civilians while I'm around.
"Deal? No deal. We're just gonna rough you up and take everything you're worth for. Give 'im the once over" he commanded the big guy. It was a little more mundane than I was expecting, but unsurprising. Some people are just assclowns, and sometimes they pick you. However, it was still not a good situation. Hostages under threat, and I was about to be pounded into slurry. I had find an advantage some where. Palm head was profession, big guy was too dumb to trick. That left "jimmy"
"You know, I'm insulted" I gave my best show, trying to get the attention away from the teens. The tweaker kept glancing between me and his charges "If you're going to be cohere me into keeping those two jackasses alive, you should at least take the safety off"
A profession soldier would have never fallen for that. Or at the very least, would have just flipped the safety off without ever leaving the target. But with being addled by chemicals and already twitchy my nature, the gun trotting thug turned his weapon to the side and up to see if he had done so. With his gun pointed away, I quick drew my pistol and let out a shot. The bullet scored him in the leg, and gripped with pain he fell backwards, squeezing the trigger of his automatic all the way down and blasting a trail of bullet holes all the way up the wall. A hail of concrete sprinkled over everyone, and in the chaos I twisted my body and sent the ogre tumbling. Putting all his weight on top of me made him easy to manipulate, and he was face first on the ground as I got up to my feet.
The leader of the gang was the only one with his wits still about him, and he was quick to swing the bat at the pistol hand. With the dumpster right behind me me I didn't have a lot of room to maneuver, and the bat collided with the hand and sent the pistol flying off to the side. I felt all the little bone crying in pain, but nothing was broken. The bat wielder was ready to swing again with a overhead attack, but I was quicker as I reached out and grabbed the bottom of the handle, preventing him from attacking and following through with a kick to his gut. He fell over backwards, rolling over on his rounded body and dropping the bat as his head smacked the pavement.
Twitchy was recovering, pulling the machine pistol to gun me down. The dirt bag could have been smart and threatened the cowering hostages. But I think in his mind vengeance was a bigger priority. Junkies were never particularly clever that way. He let out a burst of shots, hitting where I once was and I dove for my pistol. Not to pick it up and shoot him. That would have taken too long. I already was reaching for my shotgun as I jumped out of the way, and when I was steady on the ground I unloaded the shotgun shell on him. The force pushed into my shoulder, the roar of gunpowder ripped through the air, and the pellet sprayed blood everywhere as they impacted on the thug's chest. He was sent spiraling to the ground, dead.
I scooped the pistol up and put is back in it's holster, a small smile creeping as I felt it back in it's place. The ogre was starting to get up, its large bulk making it hard to get upright. I didn't give it a chance, as I brought the stock down onto the back of its head. And again, and again. It was left dazed and reeling in agony, crumpled on the floor not dead but not going anywhere either. I turned back to the plant headed man, but he was off down the alleyway, retreating back into the safety of the seedy parts of town. I could have chased after him, but the safety of other was more important. Not that I couldn't let him go without a few parting word.
"That's right, you fuckwit! Run away and cower, tell your friends that you messed with the wrong soldier today!" Then I felt a gun being jammed into my back.
"Freeze. Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads" a voice through a slight electronic filter ordered at me. So, unknown amounts of authority behind me, got a weapon right ready to give my insides a new ventilation shaft. If these guys were anything like the troops at the gate, and they had the same voice, then they were heavily armed and armored. No chance winning that one. Just had to pick my battles and lose gracefully. I complied with the order with a slight agitated grunt, putting the weapons away and hands on head. It was quickly grappled, a little sting from my hurt hand racing up my arm as they cuffed, and I was turned around to see an entire squad was here. Apparently a gunshot gets you a lot of attention in Costa del Sol, or so I thought at the time. They rounded up the other three, leaving some other department to handle the corpse. We were marched into an armored car, all of us about to have a very close encounter of the uncomfortable kind.
As I head was pushed into back of the patty wagon, I noted one of the white armored troopers talking to another, checking over a screened device, and I overheard what they said.
"Is that the guy? The one in the green armor?" "Yep, that's him. The Lieutenant wants to see him"
![[Image: oGzCtPC.png]](http://i.imgur.com/oGzCtPC.png)