07-24-2015, 02:13 PM
The scene that unfolded before me was like an oncoming wrecking ball about to turn a loaded china shop into a hole in the wall, each fragile element ready to explode into a cloud of powder and shrapnel. The Lieutenant, a man whom I had since that point associated as a stoic and restrained person who kept himself very busy to be one step ahead of everyone, was now barely held together as he saw everything he has work for about to end in a fiery explosion. And the person who had been the catalyst of it all just walked in with a bag of food and devil-may-care attitude. He managed to keep the farce together well enough, but one could see the glimpse of the fear and anger in his movement. Such as the dirty look he gave me when I walked in. It was gone as quickly as it came, as his full attention was drawn back to the other guest in the room.
There were two things that stuck out about the other man, aside from the toupee that rested on his head. The first was the look of complete glum expression on his pasty, make-up covered face that revealed his contempt for everyone here. He refused to look directly at anyone directly, and it looked as if it was to his great sorrow to even have to acknowledge other people's presence. I'm sure he thought it was pained to be here, but as I continued to stare at him the more I wanted to show him the true meaning of pain. He was everything I hated about officers, and I expected from the Empire.
The other thing was his uniform. Which was a term that only described it loosely. Unlike the boring olive green set and cap that every other officer wore, he was suited with light grey coat left unbuttoned and hang from his shoulders. Inside was a ridiculous shirt, made largely of seemingly random patches of whole cloth and fishnet, all in leopard print.Two red four point stars adorned the shirt, one on each side of his chest, and two smaller ones on the collar of his coat. The stars seemed extremely out of place compared to the usual rank like Jones head, so whatever meaning they had (if any) was beyond me.
Despite the dopey face and clothing that looked more like something from a teenage fashion magazine, there was something frightening about him. Perhaps it was the thousand year stare that hinted at a mind that wasn't all in one piece, the dull from use and serrated sword at his hip. Perhaps it was that said sword was caked in dried blood. I'd go with that.
The cadre of black armored stormtroopers took up the rest of the space of the small office. At a glance they look the same as every other stormtrooper in existence aside from the paint job, but up close I could see the slight armor changes that revealed that there were not bog standard. The optics held a slight glow of a powered HUD, slightly thicker armor in deliberate places hid built in equipment, and around their belt was gear that was definitely not bog standard. Their weapons, in particular, seemed more designed for firing powerful blasts at shorter range in urban combat. I would guess they were the stormtrooper's commando or marines equivalent, although with how little I knew of the Empire's resources and technology they could have been demi-gods in plastic armor. They had their weapons out and ready, but they had no need to fire their weapons and just kept to just be intimidating. For now.
And then there was me. I kicked this hornet's nest, and now I wanted to see how it went. The flop watched me out of the corner of his vision and seemed far more interested to intently stare at the wall. His troopers made up for it by their own vigilant watch, although since I was in arm's length of them I would come out better in everything went down in a brawl. And Jones was just a public hair away from flying off the deep end.
"What?" the bearded officer asked, although I'm sure he heard me. He just wanted to stall as he figure out what to do.
"Lunch" I answered / repeated my "Ya bought some for me last time I was here, so I thought I'd pay in kind. Ya like onion rings?' I leaned over to his desk and started to place foodstuff on the wooden top of his desk.
"You don't hav-"
"Too bad, you're gettin' onions rings" I placed the cardboard container down in front of him, filled with deep fried vegetable . And something else I've placed in there ahead of time. "Now why did ya ask for me?"
"Captain-"
"Admiral now, Jones" The petty officer was interrupted again, this time by the higher ranking asshole. "Don't forget it" I got the impression that the man only said anything if he could somehow make the subject about himself.
"...Admiral Wolvesblade is here on investigation about the falsified profile you sent" Jones' anger only continued to swell under his tight bundle of emotional turmoil, his patience would run out if he got interrupted. I, on the other hand, forced back a snort when I heard the seaman's stupid name.
"Indeed" The admiral turned to me, although he still didn't quite look at me so much as through me "To lie about your status as a prime is both a crime and puts you as a threat to the public. It is in my authority to take you in for processing and proper assignment. As well as to punish those who assisted in your transgression" There was the slightest hint of the slightest smile for half a second, and a just-as-quick glance to Jones. No points if you guess what that line of thought was.
"What, him?" I thumbed over to the lieutenant "He's just some slack-jaw idiot. I lied on my own initiative, and he was just what was convenient to it" I said to the walking disaster, and while he probably didn't believe me fully it was at least to stall the hammer of Imperial "justice" for a bit. I would say it upset the man, but it was hard to tell. He had the emotive capabilities of a bulkhead. "But now that you have me trapped, what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't have to do anything. That's what my men are for" 'Wolvesblade' answered, just as dully as everything else before, then snapped his fingers. The four already ramrod straight troopers in dark armor seemed to come to and start to advance towards me. They didn't have their weapons up, secure in the idea that their reputation and intimidation would cow me into complacency.
They were about to be very, very wrong. Four guys in plastic armor with GI-Joe armor vs a man with an arsenal who's been through hell? I would bet on me too.
I placed my arms on the two weapons strapped to each shoulder: my plasma gun and my chain gun. They stopped in place and their weapons immediately zoomed up at me. Although I found myself at the end of the barrel, I felt like I had the upper hand.
"Well boys, how do you want this to end?" The standoff was tense, with the trooper's orders to take me alive while I didn't give them a reason to think that I might have moral reasons to do the same. We stared at each other across the room, each one waited for the other to twitch the wrong way and turn this sweating powder keg into an inferno. And the building into an inferno, given the chance. The Admiral seemed unconcerned and unthreatened by the situation, despite the fact that barely ten feet away from him was a plasma packin' gunman with an itchy trigger finger. Seconds felt slower than summer days as we both thought about who would shoot first, and I began to wondered if I would be the one to turn this all sideways.
"Before you all shoot up my office" the forgotten Jones piped in, as he put his hand on his computer's monitor and swung it around for everyone else to see. Several pages of official looking documents scrolled across the screen "I've contacted the Peace Division weeks ago. They were fully aware of Doomguy's prime status and had assigned him to our division to avoid raising suspicion that we knew. Now that the cat's out of the bag, seems kind of pointless"
"What!?" Admiral Sparklypants yelled as he held the monitor up so he could read it. A rare show of real emotion from the living plank of wood, completely prissy that he was about to not get what he wanted. I figured that the 'official' papers he read were drummed up by a certain agent for such an occasion, but I kept myself silent.
"You would, of course, not know that, since the division would not want other officer to start fighting over a prime, not would they send someone to claim him. So did you come in here on your own initiative WITHOUT authorization, sir?" Jones keep an amazing straight face as he said that to the bewildered dumbass ahead of him, but it was obvious to me that he enjoyed to see his political rival trip over themselves like that.
Eventually the Admiral gave a huff, turned around, and left. His stormtrooper lagged behind a second as they were confused at what the fuck just happened, before they finally got the hint and left a well. Me and Jones stood there in silence for a few minutes, a long wait for the other shoe to drop, before the sound of engines told us he left and his small army would go with him.
Jones finally let out the breath he had been holding for the last ten minutes and collapsed his head into his upturned hands, as massive sigh to tell the world that he genuinely was fearful and completely done for the day. I sank into a seat and removed my helmet so I could actually eat from the bag in my hand.
"Another day at the office, huh?" I asked as I bit into a double patty cheese burger. How long was it since I ate some real food?
"Are you trying to get me killed?' he asked, and I gave a smile in returned.
"Trust me: if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead" I answered after I swallowed my bite "Did our mutual friend also send you something about what I was going to do?"
There was a pause as he looked dead on at me, either to wonder if I was insane or perhaps just stupid.
"Yes. What makes you think you'd get away with that that?"
"Well, after that, I don't plan on coming back. Heading straight for the big man at the top and going home" There was a bit of surprise in Jones' face, but there was also something else. I wasn't a hundred percent sure what, but it almost seemed like he was pleased "and since I already put you on the spot, you might as well come with"
"Unfortunately, I think you're right" He agreed as he pulled what I hidden in his food: a slip of paper with my comm number on it and a tracking device "And what exactly are there for?"
"I hate to say it, but I'm going to need your help..."
There were two things that stuck out about the other man, aside from the toupee that rested on his head. The first was the look of complete glum expression on his pasty, make-up covered face that revealed his contempt for everyone here. He refused to look directly at anyone directly, and it looked as if it was to his great sorrow to even have to acknowledge other people's presence. I'm sure he thought it was pained to be here, but as I continued to stare at him the more I wanted to show him the true meaning of pain. He was everything I hated about officers, and I expected from the Empire.
The other thing was his uniform. Which was a term that only described it loosely. Unlike the boring olive green set and cap that every other officer wore, he was suited with light grey coat left unbuttoned and hang from his shoulders. Inside was a ridiculous shirt, made largely of seemingly random patches of whole cloth and fishnet, all in leopard print.Two red four point stars adorned the shirt, one on each side of his chest, and two smaller ones on the collar of his coat. The stars seemed extremely out of place compared to the usual rank like Jones head, so whatever meaning they had (if any) was beyond me.
Despite the dopey face and clothing that looked more like something from a teenage fashion magazine, there was something frightening about him. Perhaps it was the thousand year stare that hinted at a mind that wasn't all in one piece, the dull from use and serrated sword at his hip. Perhaps it was that said sword was caked in dried blood. I'd go with that.
The cadre of black armored stormtroopers took up the rest of the space of the small office. At a glance they look the same as every other stormtrooper in existence aside from the paint job, but up close I could see the slight armor changes that revealed that there were not bog standard. The optics held a slight glow of a powered HUD, slightly thicker armor in deliberate places hid built in equipment, and around their belt was gear that was definitely not bog standard. Their weapons, in particular, seemed more designed for firing powerful blasts at shorter range in urban combat. I would guess they were the stormtrooper's commando or marines equivalent, although with how little I knew of the Empire's resources and technology they could have been demi-gods in plastic armor. They had their weapons out and ready, but they had no need to fire their weapons and just kept to just be intimidating. For now.
And then there was me. I kicked this hornet's nest, and now I wanted to see how it went. The flop watched me out of the corner of his vision and seemed far more interested to intently stare at the wall. His troopers made up for it by their own vigilant watch, although since I was in arm's length of them I would come out better in everything went down in a brawl. And Jones was just a public hair away from flying off the deep end.
"What?" the bearded officer asked, although I'm sure he heard me. He just wanted to stall as he figure out what to do.
"Lunch" I answered / repeated my "Ya bought some for me last time I was here, so I thought I'd pay in kind. Ya like onion rings?' I leaned over to his desk and started to place foodstuff on the wooden top of his desk.
"You don't hav-"
"Too bad, you're gettin' onions rings" I placed the cardboard container down in front of him, filled with deep fried vegetable . And something else I've placed in there ahead of time. "Now why did ya ask for me?"
"Captain-"
"Admiral now, Jones" The petty officer was interrupted again, this time by the higher ranking asshole. "Don't forget it" I got the impression that the man only said anything if he could somehow make the subject about himself.
"...Admiral Wolvesblade is here on investigation about the falsified profile you sent" Jones' anger only continued to swell under his tight bundle of emotional turmoil, his patience would run out if he got interrupted. I, on the other hand, forced back a snort when I heard the seaman's stupid name.
"Indeed" The admiral turned to me, although he still didn't quite look at me so much as through me "To lie about your status as a prime is both a crime and puts you as a threat to the public. It is in my authority to take you in for processing and proper assignment. As well as to punish those who assisted in your transgression" There was the slightest hint of the slightest smile for half a second, and a just-as-quick glance to Jones. No points if you guess what that line of thought was.
"What, him?" I thumbed over to the lieutenant "He's just some slack-jaw idiot. I lied on my own initiative, and he was just what was convenient to it" I said to the walking disaster, and while he probably didn't believe me fully it was at least to stall the hammer of Imperial "justice" for a bit. I would say it upset the man, but it was hard to tell. He had the emotive capabilities of a bulkhead. "But now that you have me trapped, what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't have to do anything. That's what my men are for" 'Wolvesblade' answered, just as dully as everything else before, then snapped his fingers. The four already ramrod straight troopers in dark armor seemed to come to and start to advance towards me. They didn't have their weapons up, secure in the idea that their reputation and intimidation would cow me into complacency.
They were about to be very, very wrong. Four guys in plastic armor with GI-Joe armor vs a man with an arsenal who's been through hell? I would bet on me too.
I placed my arms on the two weapons strapped to each shoulder: my plasma gun and my chain gun. They stopped in place and their weapons immediately zoomed up at me. Although I found myself at the end of the barrel, I felt like I had the upper hand.
"Well boys, how do you want this to end?" The standoff was tense, with the trooper's orders to take me alive while I didn't give them a reason to think that I might have moral reasons to do the same. We stared at each other across the room, each one waited for the other to twitch the wrong way and turn this sweating powder keg into an inferno. And the building into an inferno, given the chance. The Admiral seemed unconcerned and unthreatened by the situation, despite the fact that barely ten feet away from him was a plasma packin' gunman with an itchy trigger finger. Seconds felt slower than summer days as we both thought about who would shoot first, and I began to wondered if I would be the one to turn this all sideways.
"Before you all shoot up my office" the forgotten Jones piped in, as he put his hand on his computer's monitor and swung it around for everyone else to see. Several pages of official looking documents scrolled across the screen "I've contacted the Peace Division weeks ago. They were fully aware of Doomguy's prime status and had assigned him to our division to avoid raising suspicion that we knew. Now that the cat's out of the bag, seems kind of pointless"
"What!?" Admiral Sparklypants yelled as he held the monitor up so he could read it. A rare show of real emotion from the living plank of wood, completely prissy that he was about to not get what he wanted. I figured that the 'official' papers he read were drummed up by a certain agent for such an occasion, but I kept myself silent.
"You would, of course, not know that, since the division would not want other officer to start fighting over a prime, not would they send someone to claim him. So did you come in here on your own initiative WITHOUT authorization, sir?" Jones keep an amazing straight face as he said that to the bewildered dumbass ahead of him, but it was obvious to me that he enjoyed to see his political rival trip over themselves like that.
Eventually the Admiral gave a huff, turned around, and left. His stormtrooper lagged behind a second as they were confused at what the fuck just happened, before they finally got the hint and left a well. Me and Jones stood there in silence for a few minutes, a long wait for the other shoe to drop, before the sound of engines told us he left and his small army would go with him.
Jones finally let out the breath he had been holding for the last ten minutes and collapsed his head into his upturned hands, as massive sigh to tell the world that he genuinely was fearful and completely done for the day. I sank into a seat and removed my helmet so I could actually eat from the bag in my hand.
"Another day at the office, huh?" I asked as I bit into a double patty cheese burger. How long was it since I ate some real food?
"Are you trying to get me killed?' he asked, and I gave a smile in returned.
"Trust me: if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead" I answered after I swallowed my bite "Did our mutual friend also send you something about what I was going to do?"
There was a pause as he looked dead on at me, either to wonder if I was insane or perhaps just stupid.
"Yes. What makes you think you'd get away with that that?"
"Well, after that, I don't plan on coming back. Heading straight for the big man at the top and going home" There was a bit of surprise in Jones' face, but there was also something else. I wasn't a hundred percent sure what, but it almost seemed like he was pleased "and since I already put you on the spot, you might as well come with"
"Unfortunately, I think you're right" He agreed as he pulled what I hidden in his food: a slip of paper with my comm number on it and a tracking device "And what exactly are there for?"
"I hate to say it, but I'm going to need your help..."
![[Image: oGzCtPC.png]](http://i.imgur.com/oGzCtPC.png)