10-21-2015, 02:26 AM
Shadows lengthened as the sun set down and the people of Carrefore were finally enjoying some respite from the blazing heat. Stormtroopers on the Nexus-ward post on the side of the perimeter were making the most of it, lounging with their helmets off in the shade of a decrepit security turret. One of them was somewhat more composed, with chiseled face, it seemed like he was standing at attention even while resting, the other one was, let’s say, less than presentable, both his uniform and posture suggested a soldier who didn’t really care about either his post or uniform.
“Sarge, when are we shifting?”
“Damn, are you one of the new guys? Just shut up and watch the horizon.”
“Barely anyone ever comes here. The bandits still think those things”, - He banged on the side of a turret, - “Are still active. It is not like we cut power to them after the last generator died.”
“Shush. We will put them online as soon as the new shipment arrives. Until then, pray those madmen don’t find out about the power shortage.”
“I mean, why do we even sit here?”, - stormtrooper waved his hand around, - “Those shacks barely worth the wood they are made of! Who will come here, like… can’t we just put a blockade on the Gate?”
“Damn it, newbie, we do not question orders! We foll…” sergeant trailed off. There was a small cloud of dust coming their way, as if a vehicle or two were running around in the savannah.
“Get your gun and helmet. We might be getting some guests.” Stormtrooper jumped to his feet, as if he wasn’t resting just a minute ago, in a flash the dusty helmet was back on his head and he was readying his blaster for whatever could be coming their way. It took far longer for the second one to stand up and even longer to get himself to a proper condition, as he was fumbling with his gear and weapon. By the moment he finally looked at the small cloud of dust on the horizon it became bigger and his superior was already reporting “Suspicious activity, but no confirmation of threat, yet” over the comms.
Soon enough the unknown vehicle got close enough to actually see it. It was a beaten-up and devastated Runner, usual to bandits and other outlaws out in the Dunes. It had the usual ornamentation, spikes, some skulls, reddish hue that may or may not was blood at some point. What was unusual is that this one was severely beaten up, as if someone had repeatedly slammed it into every single tree between Carrefore and the Nexus Gate. Half of the spikes were gone, wires were dangling from underneath crashed plating and one of the tires was busted. As a result, speed of the runner was less than ideal, even before you looked at the fact that the driver constantly changed directions, seemingly yanking the steering wheel at random. The engine was straining and roaring as if the driver was still going on first gear, without switching it even once.
When it finally came close to the stormtroopers, who were scanning the horizon nervously, making an obvious assumption that this might be a distraction. Out of the battered vehicle came out a no-less battered man. Ignoring blasters pointed at him, he dived back into drivers compartment and after some fumbling pulled out something, that looked like the most gruesome trophy ever seen. It was a bent and ruined chainsaw, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst was five heads jammed onto it. The newcomer dropped that in front of the soldiers.
Sarge took a step back, so he wouldn’t get splattered. Behind him the newbie made a gurgling sound, barely keeping his dinner safe and sound in his belly.
“Where can I get a drink?” – the newcomer asked – “These bastards made me break a sweat.”
Sarge stared at him for a moment, looking at dirty clothing, ruined hat and gleaming metal part of a man in front of him. Obviously a prime. He wasn’t dealing with this. Standing around in the desert wasn’t worth trying to stop an obviously dangerous individual. He also killed some bandits for all that is worth, so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.
“Go to the central square, look for the neon sign that reads “Rick’s” tell them Sarge send you, they’ll pour you one on the house.” – veteran waved his hand somewhere towards the centre of the town – “You need this piece of junk?” – he asked, pointing at the car.
“Just scrap it, it barely holds together after I ran that midget over.” – the newcomer was limping somewhere in the direction he was pointed to, trying to not put too much pressure on his right foot. Behind him, the newbie finally came together.
“Hey, shouldn’t we send him to processing? As per regulations?”
“Shut up and get this piece of crap to the scrapyard, we may use the generator and the fuel cell if they are still operational after what he did to it.”
“Oh, and what happened to ‘Following orders’, huh?”
“It’s my goddamn job to give you pep talk, get to work." - Sarge put his hand to the comm, - "Hey, Rick? Yeah, it's me. There is a prime going your way, pour him one on me, he dealt with... Ithink it is Johas, but I'm not sure, head is too fucked up. Yeah. Yup. I think he is new here, he didn't even summon a drive for himself. No, he took one of their cars. Damn just ask him yourself, he is limping your way."
“Sarge, when are we shifting?”
“Damn, are you one of the new guys? Just shut up and watch the horizon.”
“Barely anyone ever comes here. The bandits still think those things”, - He banged on the side of a turret, - “Are still active. It is not like we cut power to them after the last generator died.”
“Shush. We will put them online as soon as the new shipment arrives. Until then, pray those madmen don’t find out about the power shortage.”
“I mean, why do we even sit here?”, - stormtrooper waved his hand around, - “Those shacks barely worth the wood they are made of! Who will come here, like… can’t we just put a blockade on the Gate?”
“Damn it, newbie, we do not question orders! We foll…” sergeant trailed off. There was a small cloud of dust coming their way, as if a vehicle or two were running around in the savannah.
“Get your gun and helmet. We might be getting some guests.” Stormtrooper jumped to his feet, as if he wasn’t resting just a minute ago, in a flash the dusty helmet was back on his head and he was readying his blaster for whatever could be coming their way. It took far longer for the second one to stand up and even longer to get himself to a proper condition, as he was fumbling with his gear and weapon. By the moment he finally looked at the small cloud of dust on the horizon it became bigger and his superior was already reporting “Suspicious activity, but no confirmation of threat, yet” over the comms.
Soon enough the unknown vehicle got close enough to actually see it. It was a beaten-up and devastated Runner, usual to bandits and other outlaws out in the Dunes. It had the usual ornamentation, spikes, some skulls, reddish hue that may or may not was blood at some point. What was unusual is that this one was severely beaten up, as if someone had repeatedly slammed it into every single tree between Carrefore and the Nexus Gate. Half of the spikes were gone, wires were dangling from underneath crashed plating and one of the tires was busted. As a result, speed of the runner was less than ideal, even before you looked at the fact that the driver constantly changed directions, seemingly yanking the steering wheel at random. The engine was straining and roaring as if the driver was still going on first gear, without switching it even once.
When it finally came close to the stormtroopers, who were scanning the horizon nervously, making an obvious assumption that this might be a distraction. Out of the battered vehicle came out a no-less battered man. Ignoring blasters pointed at him, he dived back into drivers compartment and after some fumbling pulled out something, that looked like the most gruesome trophy ever seen. It was a bent and ruined chainsaw, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst was five heads jammed onto it. The newcomer dropped that in front of the soldiers.
Sarge took a step back, so he wouldn’t get splattered. Behind him the newbie made a gurgling sound, barely keeping his dinner safe and sound in his belly.
“Where can I get a drink?” – the newcomer asked – “These bastards made me break a sweat.”
Sarge stared at him for a moment, looking at dirty clothing, ruined hat and gleaming metal part of a man in front of him. Obviously a prime. He wasn’t dealing with this. Standing around in the desert wasn’t worth trying to stop an obviously dangerous individual. He also killed some bandits for all that is worth, so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.
“Go to the central square, look for the neon sign that reads “Rick’s” tell them Sarge send you, they’ll pour you one on the house.” – veteran waved his hand somewhere towards the centre of the town – “You need this piece of junk?” – he asked, pointing at the car.
“Just scrap it, it barely holds together after I ran that midget over.” – the newcomer was limping somewhere in the direction he was pointed to, trying to not put too much pressure on his right foot. Behind him, the newbie finally came together.
“Hey, shouldn’t we send him to processing? As per regulations?”
“Shut up and get this piece of crap to the scrapyard, we may use the generator and the fuel cell if they are still operational after what he did to it.”
“Oh, and what happened to ‘Following orders’, huh?”
“It’s my goddamn job to give you pep talk, get to work." - Sarge put his hand to the comm, - "Hey, Rick? Yeah, it's me. There is a prime going your way, pour him one on me, he dealt with... Ithink it is Johas, but I'm not sure, head is too fucked up. Yeah. Yup. I think he is new here, he didn't even summon a drive for himself. No, he took one of their cars. Damn just ask him yourself, he is limping your way."
![[Image: wzGKapL.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/wzGKapL.jpg)