08-16-2014, 01:30 PM
If Tier Four was a nightclub, then Five had more the air of a sprawling metro tunnel. It certainly nailed that air of dirty claustrophobia. Compared to the other tiers, the ceiling was oppressively close, as though it was in danger of falling down and crushing the entire tier.
Through this patchwork surface of gaps, grating and hanging wires descended the taxi, its bright headlamps illuminating a path through the dust and darkness.
“Down there,” said Samus, indicating to one of the larger streets.
The cabbie continued his stream of prying questions and running commentary all the way to the ground. A drop of omnilium was exchanged and the human predator emerged, never gladder to be entering a ghetto.
The streets were, at first glance, not too different from Tier Four. The biggest difference was the energy; a creeping impression of desperation. Even as she took her first steps from the taxi, Samus found herself harangued by urchins and peddlers; they could’ve spotted her shiny suit a mile away. Others Samus marked mentally as they retreated further into the shadows at the sight of her. She had become well known here.
The bounty hunter offered no omnilium to her unwanted welcome party, ignoring their pleads. On the job was no time to let her heart out of the suit. Besides, the last thing she needed was orphans following her around every time she came to Tier Five. Not with her line of work. She ignored them, stepping through with deliberate haste. Once she was here, it wouldn’t be long before the gang’s spotters got word of her arrival.
For the first time since the beginning of their descent, Adam piped up. “The bounty was last seen in this area. It’s the territory of the red shells. A bunch of humanoids from the Ashen Plains who broke off from the kingdom there to form their own faction. They’re big showboats. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Samus grunted. She kept her eyes on the corners, the windows, the rooftops. Already her x-ray visor was proving to be an excellent investment. Despite the puny range, the told her where to watch. Her mind attached notes to every skeleton. Clear. Clear. Clear. Suspicious. Clear.
Before long her entourage had given up. Samus has made a mental note that stealth capabilities would be an excellent upgrade from missions like this. It was hard not to get ahead of herself when she was only limited by omnilium quantity.
The plan was simple. Go in to the gang’s territory and wait to be attacked. Samus worked best in missions that required little finesse. Fortuitously, in this case, her opponents weren’t exactly the Illuminati. Not ten minutes had passed since her arrival before figure leapt from the shadows.
Maybe five feet. Humanoid … was a stretch. The red shells lived up to their name. It was a turtle on two legs. Clad in a red bandanna and an open red jacket below, which was a … Red shell. It drew a yellow, clawed hand to its mouth, grasping its cigar between two digits and blowing out a stream of white smoke. Two visor indicators on Samus’s HUD indicated that two other humanoids were closing in behind. She kept her eyes on the leader and played dumb from now.
“Turn around and leave, hunter,” said the turtle with what Samus guessed was an intimidating tone.
Samus had practice with these scenarios. She slipped into the drill was confident ease, her voice betraying not a shred of emotion. “I’m looking for the android who burned an Imperial soldier to death in this area. I’m going to need you to share any information you have as to his whereabouts.” It wasn’t difficult to see why some believed Samus herself was an android, not a human.
Samus’s HUD flashed, one of the red silhouettes closing in from behind. She raised her left arm and blocked the incoming claw, pivoting as she did so and bringing her right arm cannon round and into the assailant’s face. It connected and sent him reeling to the floor. The next turtle was closing in from below, a spinning shell. Samus jumped. The second, shellified turtle slammed straight into his downed friend, who went spinning under Samus’s legs and straight into their leader. Three for three. Strike. The turtles groaned.
“Tell me where the android is,” said Samus, the tone of negotiation replaced with one of simple command.
The turtles got up. Even to them, it was painfully obvious that they were outmatched. The leader stood up, picking up his cigar again and putting it back in his mouth. “Tch.”
Through this patchwork surface of gaps, grating and hanging wires descended the taxi, its bright headlamps illuminating a path through the dust and darkness.
“Down there,” said Samus, indicating to one of the larger streets.
The cabbie continued his stream of prying questions and running commentary all the way to the ground. A drop of omnilium was exchanged and the human predator emerged, never gladder to be entering a ghetto.
The streets were, at first glance, not too different from Tier Four. The biggest difference was the energy; a creeping impression of desperation. Even as she took her first steps from the taxi, Samus found herself harangued by urchins and peddlers; they could’ve spotted her shiny suit a mile away. Others Samus marked mentally as they retreated further into the shadows at the sight of her. She had become well known here.
The bounty hunter offered no omnilium to her unwanted welcome party, ignoring their pleads. On the job was no time to let her heart out of the suit. Besides, the last thing she needed was orphans following her around every time she came to Tier Five. Not with her line of work. She ignored them, stepping through with deliberate haste. Once she was here, it wouldn’t be long before the gang’s spotters got word of her arrival.
For the first time since the beginning of their descent, Adam piped up. “The bounty was last seen in this area. It’s the territory of the red shells. A bunch of humanoids from the Ashen Plains who broke off from the kingdom there to form their own faction. They’re big showboats. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Samus grunted. She kept her eyes on the corners, the windows, the rooftops. Already her x-ray visor was proving to be an excellent investment. Despite the puny range, the told her where to watch. Her mind attached notes to every skeleton. Clear. Clear. Clear. Suspicious. Clear.
Before long her entourage had given up. Samus has made a mental note that stealth capabilities would be an excellent upgrade from missions like this. It was hard not to get ahead of herself when she was only limited by omnilium quantity.
The plan was simple. Go in to the gang’s territory and wait to be attacked. Samus worked best in missions that required little finesse. Fortuitously, in this case, her opponents weren’t exactly the Illuminati. Not ten minutes had passed since her arrival before figure leapt from the shadows.
Maybe five feet. Humanoid … was a stretch. The red shells lived up to their name. It was a turtle on two legs. Clad in a red bandanna and an open red jacket below, which was a … Red shell. It drew a yellow, clawed hand to its mouth, grasping its cigar between two digits and blowing out a stream of white smoke. Two visor indicators on Samus’s HUD indicated that two other humanoids were closing in behind. She kept her eyes on the leader and played dumb from now.
“Turn around and leave, hunter,” said the turtle with what Samus guessed was an intimidating tone.
Samus had practice with these scenarios. She slipped into the drill was confident ease, her voice betraying not a shred of emotion. “I’m looking for the android who burned an Imperial soldier to death in this area. I’m going to need you to share any information you have as to his whereabouts.” It wasn’t difficult to see why some believed Samus herself was an android, not a human.
Samus’s HUD flashed, one of the red silhouettes closing in from behind. She raised her left arm and blocked the incoming claw, pivoting as she did so and bringing her right arm cannon round and into the assailant’s face. It connected and sent him reeling to the floor. The next turtle was closing in from below, a spinning shell. Samus jumped. The second, shellified turtle slammed straight into his downed friend, who went spinning under Samus’s legs and straight into their leader. Three for three. Strike. The turtles groaned.
“Tell me where the android is,” said Samus, the tone of negotiation replaced with one of simple command.
The turtles got up. Even to them, it was painfully obvious that they were outmatched. The leader stood up, picking up his cigar again and putting it back in his mouth. “Tch.”
![[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/0bwAI3j.jpg)