05-13-2016, 02:47 AM
There’s always something to names that makes me wonder about their history. It’s not much more than an idle curiosity, since I’ve also never looked further than the surface explanation and left the history to the nerds. If I wasn’t so busy with everything else, though, I could maybe take that up as a hobby. But when I saw the island from my new quarters I saw the large dome shaped orange stone that left that that mystery with little to the imagination. It almost took up the entire island itself, long vents that poked out against it’s otherwise round surface gave it that cartoonish sun look. I could guess that it might have been a volcano, but how it got that particular shape and color was beyond me. I was far more interest in who was there rather than what.
The War Pigs. A mercenary group who have been on the Empire’s blacklist for a few years, something about an assassination. There was a lot of black bars. I couldn’t even tell if whoever was assassinated was or was not working the with the Empire when they were killed. Whatever happened before, they’re on the run now. Last seen on Sunset Isle, they numbered at several squads and a few support vehicles. Well, “support” vehicle as defined by the Empire; I wouldn’t have called a gunship that turned into a bipedal walker and a mobile artillery “support” vehicles.
If they were anything like me then they were aggressive, well armed, and fighting to survive. Even if I did find them, they might have just decided to put a few extra holes in me.
Sounds like fun.
“What do you mean, ‘you’re going in alone’?” The captain asked as I told her my plan. Her crossed arms told me enough, but it wasn’t as if she could have stopped me.
“I’d rather not put anyone at risk. You guys can do combat drills, or something”
“‘Combat drills or something’? You summon us here and now you’re going to keep us on the sideline?”
“Since when did you care about that?!”
“I don’t want you to waste my time!”
“I’M NOT-! You know what? Fine” I ripped a pen out of the desk of a nearby officer and wrote down my comm number “I’m going to keep this here, and IF I NEED TO I will call, and THEN you can help.” I’m sure she wasn’t amused by my lone wolf bullshit, but if she had any complaints she didn’t make them verbally (although the scowl said enough). I had started to walk away before heard her yell out to me again.
“Wait, how are you going to call us if you don’t know our number?!”
“I already stole it out of your computers. Come’on, keep up”
One speed boat later and I landed at the beach with a soft glide into the sand. I immediately jumped out to anchor the boat down, as if I was ready to assault an enemy position, but I was halfway through spiking it into the sand when I realised that there wasn’t anyone even here. Not that it stopped me, since the last time I landed on a beach that had no one one it I came back with the boat smashed to pieces and trying to outrun an eldritch abomination on a jet ski.
I gave the thumbs up to the carrier off in the distance and jogged into the forest that lined the inside of the island. It immediately came apparent that there was some kind of civilization, as a wooden pathway lead through the thick rooted mangroves and the Spanish moss that hung from its . It was kept clean by someone, so it wasn’t a deserted island. That wasn’t actually good news, but if the locals didn’t try to kill me on the spot then at least I could get some information out of them.
The calm of the sea breeze didn’t help me as I watched through the branches for movement. What if the Empire was here first, I thought. I could have walked into an ambush, or maybe I’d find another angry cult. Or perhaps I would find myself face to face with my enemy, a demon crashes through the growth, its pink skin and vicious teeth married to a complete disregard to life and reason, followed by its own army of undead and- I shook my head. I shouldn’t think about stuff like that while I was still on a mission.
Whatever paranoid delusions I had dropped away when the path eventually lead into the center of a village and I could let out that breath. Well, civilization isn’t a safe place in of itself, war taught me that the hard way, but the fact that there were frolicking kids and regular business rather than heads on spikes was good sign.
But just because they weren’t hostile didn’t mean they were happy to see me.
“What th’ bloody ‘ell are you doin’ ‘ere?” I rolled my head around to spot the voice that was clearly shouting at me. A few mothers grabbed their children as they pulled away from the scene that was about to unfold, and that was a good enough evidence that this wasn’t mister brightside . The angry, nearly indecipherable Scottish voice belonged to senior with a gray bush of a beard on his face, hair in a fohawk, and a very large combat shotgun in his hand. Oddly enough, this time it wasn’t the gun that held my attention but his orange, Hawaiian print shirt and the wife beater he wore under it (and I didn’t even notice the aviator glasses until he was up in my face). I’m not sure what the style would be called, other than “no shits”
“Who the hell are you?” I threw back. I wasn’t about to be intimidated by some old man, even if he did have a big gun. I walked into that village with more weapons than most squads would have, and here was this guy with only a shotgun and harsh words. Doomguy doesn’t get shown up. But he wanted none of that
“Yee weebrained cockbite can shove it ya think i tell a bounty hunter anything. I ain’t no rat. Not yee, nor the other bastard” Thankfully I’ve dealt with enough drunken idiots to parse out what he was saying, and more importantly something that made sense. Much as I wanted to break his stupid glasses with a left hook, I held that back.
“”First off, fuck you” And he casually flipped me off in response, as I expected “Second, what ‘other bastard’?”
“Think yee can get one over me? Pah! I’ll be keepin me eyes on you, you green, mingin’ pollock” And just as quick ah he arrived he was gone, which left me alone in the tiny fishing village without a clue at what just happened.
I walked across the path and thankfully found someone who wasn’t a few bullets short of a full magazine. Someone more local, judging by the fact that he actively kept out of the sun.
“So yeah, what’s his deal?” I questioned as I thumbed over my shoulder to where I assume the coot disappeared into.
“You met Old Man Henderson. Don’t worry about, he’s only dangerous if you cause trouble” I was about to ask my next question when he stood up, tipped his hat up, and stared me in the eyes “Which I that trouble is why you’re here”
“Don’t worry, I won’t stay here for long-”
“Let me give you advice” he placed his hand on my shoulder, which I responded by immediately knocked off. He didn’t seem too phased by that, although that seemed more because he wasn’t too fond of me anyway “You get back on your big boat of your and leave. We don’t want people like you here”
“And what if I choose to stick around anyway?” I stood my ground
“Things happen” The man responded, a clear threat given in a velvet package, and he went back to his shade.
So three potentially hostile forces on one small island while I hacked my way through unknown space in search of someone who will probably hate my guts?
Just the way I like it.
The War Pigs. A mercenary group who have been on the Empire’s blacklist for a few years, something about an assassination. There was a lot of black bars. I couldn’t even tell if whoever was assassinated was or was not working the with the Empire when they were killed. Whatever happened before, they’re on the run now. Last seen on Sunset Isle, they numbered at several squads and a few support vehicles. Well, “support” vehicle as defined by the Empire; I wouldn’t have called a gunship that turned into a bipedal walker and a mobile artillery “support” vehicles.
If they were anything like me then they were aggressive, well armed, and fighting to survive. Even if I did find them, they might have just decided to put a few extra holes in me.
Sounds like fun.
“What do you mean, ‘you’re going in alone’?” The captain asked as I told her my plan. Her crossed arms told me enough, but it wasn’t as if she could have stopped me.
“I’d rather not put anyone at risk. You guys can do combat drills, or something”
“‘Combat drills or something’? You summon us here and now you’re going to keep us on the sideline?”
“Since when did you care about that?!”
“I don’t want you to waste my time!”
“I’M NOT-! You know what? Fine” I ripped a pen out of the desk of a nearby officer and wrote down my comm number “I’m going to keep this here, and IF I NEED TO I will call, and THEN you can help.” I’m sure she wasn’t amused by my lone wolf bullshit, but if she had any complaints she didn’t make them verbally (although the scowl said enough). I had started to walk away before heard her yell out to me again.
“Wait, how are you going to call us if you don’t know our number?!”
“I already stole it out of your computers. Come’on, keep up”
Quote:----
One speed boat later and I landed at the beach with a soft glide into the sand. I immediately jumped out to anchor the boat down, as if I was ready to assault an enemy position, but I was halfway through spiking it into the sand when I realised that there wasn’t anyone even here. Not that it stopped me, since the last time I landed on a beach that had no one one it I came back with the boat smashed to pieces and trying to outrun an eldritch abomination on a jet ski.
I gave the thumbs up to the carrier off in the distance and jogged into the forest that lined the inside of the island. It immediately came apparent that there was some kind of civilization, as a wooden pathway lead through the thick rooted mangroves and the Spanish moss that hung from its . It was kept clean by someone, so it wasn’t a deserted island. That wasn’t actually good news, but if the locals didn’t try to kill me on the spot then at least I could get some information out of them.
The calm of the sea breeze didn’t help me as I watched through the branches for movement. What if the Empire was here first, I thought. I could have walked into an ambush, or maybe I’d find another angry cult. Or perhaps I would find myself face to face with my enemy, a demon crashes through the growth, its pink skin and vicious teeth married to a complete disregard to life and reason, followed by its own army of undead and- I shook my head. I shouldn’t think about stuff like that while I was still on a mission.
Whatever paranoid delusions I had dropped away when the path eventually lead into the center of a village and I could let out that breath. Well, civilization isn’t a safe place in of itself, war taught me that the hard way, but the fact that there were frolicking kids and regular business rather than heads on spikes was good sign.
But just because they weren’t hostile didn’t mean they were happy to see me.
“What th’ bloody ‘ell are you doin’ ‘ere?” I rolled my head around to spot the voice that was clearly shouting at me. A few mothers grabbed their children as they pulled away from the scene that was about to unfold, and that was a good enough evidence that this wasn’t mister brightside . The angry, nearly indecipherable Scottish voice belonged to senior with a gray bush of a beard on his face, hair in a fohawk, and a very large combat shotgun in his hand. Oddly enough, this time it wasn’t the gun that held my attention but his orange, Hawaiian print shirt and the wife beater he wore under it (and I didn’t even notice the aviator glasses until he was up in my face). I’m not sure what the style would be called, other than “no shits”
“Who the hell are you?” I threw back. I wasn’t about to be intimidated by some old man, even if he did have a big gun. I walked into that village with more weapons than most squads would have, and here was this guy with only a shotgun and harsh words. Doomguy doesn’t get shown up. But he wanted none of that
“Yee weebrained cockbite can shove it ya think i tell a bounty hunter anything. I ain’t no rat. Not yee, nor the other bastard” Thankfully I’ve dealt with enough drunken idiots to parse out what he was saying, and more importantly something that made sense. Much as I wanted to break his stupid glasses with a left hook, I held that back.
“”First off, fuck you” And he casually flipped me off in response, as I expected “Second, what ‘other bastard’?”
“Think yee can get one over me? Pah! I’ll be keepin me eyes on you, you green, mingin’ pollock” And just as quick ah he arrived he was gone, which left me alone in the tiny fishing village without a clue at what just happened.
I walked across the path and thankfully found someone who wasn’t a few bullets short of a full magazine. Someone more local, judging by the fact that he actively kept out of the sun.
“So yeah, what’s his deal?” I questioned as I thumbed over my shoulder to where I assume the coot disappeared into.
“You met Old Man Henderson. Don’t worry about, he’s only dangerous if you cause trouble” I was about to ask my next question when he stood up, tipped his hat up, and stared me in the eyes “Which I that trouble is why you’re here”
“Don’t worry, I won’t stay here for long-”
“Let me give you advice” he placed his hand on my shoulder, which I responded by immediately knocked off. He didn’t seem too phased by that, although that seemed more because he wasn’t too fond of me anyway “You get back on your big boat of your and leave. We don’t want people like you here”
“And what if I choose to stick around anyway?” I stood my ground
“Things happen” The man responded, a clear threat given in a velvet package, and he went back to his shade.
So three potentially hostile forces on one small island while I hacked my way through unknown space in search of someone who will probably hate my guts?
Just the way I like it.
![[Image: oGzCtPC.png]](http://i.imgur.com/oGzCtPC.png)