Fugitive

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Kraiz
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Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Sat Sep 03, 2011 6:25 am

Perry sat up, opening his eyes to a dimly lit apartment room. A soft ember was still glowing in the fireplace, but the main source of light came from the front porch light shiningg through the windows onto the drive.

Perry stood up, and walked over to turn the light off; it wasn't needed anymore as he could see, as the dim New York sun could be seen slowly, surely, ligghting the Manhattan sky. He walked into the Kitchen and removed a box of cereal from the cupboard, and proceeded to fix himself a bowl. He walked back into the living room, and flipped on the TV above the fireplace, and ate his cereal.

"Wow, When will the fools in charge of the LSF, LPI, and LN realize that they can never really get rid of the Rogues? OR the lane Hackers, or any of them; it's just not going to happen." He thought to himself as he watched a news report about a convoy coming under attack just two days ago on their way from Fort Bush to Pittsburgh. He quickly changed the channel, as the news had begun to talk about the immense deficit that Liberty owed to the other houses, which Perry really didn't care about.

He flipped through the stations, trying to find something decent to watch. He flipped past a Planet Skimer race; ligghtweiht fighters designed to surf on the upper atmosphere of planets. Rich, elitist sport it was, and perry hated it for that reason. He kept flipping.

As he set the remote down, convinced there was nothing to watch this time of morning, a knock came at the door of his appartment. Perr set down his cereal on the coffee table, next to a bunch of other assorted things such as an ash tray, the TV Remote, and his L-300 Bolt Pistol, which he picked up and slid into his waist behind his back, approaching the door.

He flipped on the video screen, and saw nobody. He turned off the screen, and, drawing the pistol from his waist, slowly opened the door. What he found surprised him: A small package, about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in brown paper with his name and address written on it. Cautiously, perry picked it up, and closed the door.

He flipped over the address card that was taped to the package.

There was nothing.

Perry cautiously opened the package's paper, revealing a white shoe box. He opened it, and pulled a note out from inside.

"Hello Mr. Perry,

We are aware of your residence on Planet Manhattan. Within 48 hours, your true identity will be revealed to the proper authorities, and you will begin serving your sentence behind bars on Battleship Missouri. However, in the event that you do not wish to live the rest of your life in prison, I have a proposition for you.

You are to proceed to Battleship Miami, and are to come alone. Upon your entry into the Texas system, your progress will be monitored, should you make the wrong decision. I hope that you will not make the wrong decision."

And there was no signature. He set the note down, and pulled out what was in the box.

It was a black jacket. Seeing this jacked made Perry's spine tingle. On the right pocket of the jacket was a Captain's Insignia. On the left pocket is what scared him the most.

"22nd"
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

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Re: Fugitive

Post by Seth » Sat Sep 03, 2011 9:16 am

I like how the story unfolds. I'm wondering on the timeline of the event. When did this all happen?
You are the sum of your decisions. -Aristotle

Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Tue Sep 06, 2011 4:19 pm

'twil all make sense in the end. Probably after my next post (Which I'm going to begin typing now)
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Tue Sep 06, 2011 5:26 pm

The purr of the Hovercycle's engines kicked on as Bryan revved the cycle to get a feel for it again. He hadn't riden it in ages, but he felt that if he was going to take a long trip, he may as well enjoy himself.

Perry backed out of the drive, and sped off down the street, took the nearest exit onto the Hyperway, and merged into trafffic. Perry kicked up the throttle, and began weaving in and out of cars. They shot by him like rumbling boulders down the face of a cliff, yet the cycle sliced through the lanes, not having a care in the world. Perry's bushy blonde hair swirled in the wind, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. It was two hours to Turk's place, and he was aiming to make that more like 45 minutes.

"There's nothing like this in the world" he thought, weaving in and out of trafffic, leaning this way and that, throwing his momentum to dodge the speeding cars. His train of thought wandered off onto less pressimng matters of what Turk was up to these days, what he planned to do about lunch, and checking out the women whom he passed on the hyperway.

Perry's heart stopped, and he slowed his cycle down to a much slower pace, almost down to the speed limit, which was a miracle he even knew what the speed limit was.

Dead ahead was a Liberty Police Checkpoint. Three police vehicles were stretched across the road so to funnel the whole four lane route into a two lane funnel. Perry hadn't expected this at all, and was hoping that he could slip past unnoticed. he slowed down as one of the officers began approaching the lane he was in. Perry's cycle hummed as it came to a stop.

"Card?" said the officer, outstretching his hand. Perry wouldn't make out who it was, as the officers had on helmets with visors, along with some light body armor, which was customary for most roadblocks on the dangerous speeds of the Hyperway.

Perry reached into his Jacket pocket, that he knew was empty, and sighed as he withdrew his empty hand and looked at the officer.

"It must've fallen out on the road." said Perry.

"One moment" said the officer, walking over to one of the cars and bringing back a small touch-screen tablet.
He looked up at Perry again, "Your name, Sir?"

Perry hesitated for a moment, and blurted "Jimmy Smith".

The officer typed it into the pad. Perry knew he was in deep trouble now: Once the photo of the actual Jimmy Smith showed up, he'd have a lot more to worry about than a speeding ticket.

Out of desperation, Perry did the only thing he'd known how to do; Run.

Perry leaned over and put his heel through the officer's visor, and slammed the gas on the Hovercycle. He leaned low on the craft as it rocketed forwards at breakneck speeds. He heard yelling behind him, and soon there was a police cycle on his tail. Perry knew that he could outmaneuver him, but he didn't know if he could actually lose him in the traffic. Perry looked around despairately for something to do.

Just as he raised his head slightly to look behind him, a bolt whizzed over his head, and he ducked back down. Several more bolts came whistling past him. Perry began to weave more vigorously so as to dodge traffic. He was coming up on a large transporter vessel, and it was droning down the way at a pathetic speed. Perry was coming up on it fast.

"HAH!" Perry thought, pulling out a Pocket Laser. He came up to the truck that was carrying construction beams; long, heavy, metal beams. Beams that were fastened to the truck with nothing but some Titanium Braces.

Perry moved beside the first brace, and swung out with his Laser. Success! It cut easily through, and he sped up to go cut the final brace near the front of the transporter. He leaned out, and the end of the beam couldn't reach. He leaned farther, and could still barely reach. With his situation now being between death or death, he cautiously stood on the seat of his cycle, which was still rocketing along quite smoothly down the Hyperway, and jumped across tothe transporter. Perry sliced the second and final bracket, and quickly jumped, landing back on his own cycle, right as the beams began to slide off of the transporter.

Perry screamed with joyous laughter as the beams spewed across the road, leaving an impassable trail of destruction in their wake. He looked around now to get a feel for his location, and spotted a sign that his exit was near. He got into the off lane and took the exit, taking him down a very rural, undeveloped road. He reduced his speed and began to relax a little bit.

After just a few short minutes, he finally turned into the drive of an immense warehouse. Perry cut his engine at the curb and coasted into the lot, taking his cycle and bringing it inside the open warehouse door and setting it aside so that it wasn't easily spottted.

Perry walked through the warehouse, observing the many ships that Turk had accumulated over the years. He saw a door open and soft light pouring from within. It was Turk's study. He approached it and gently pushed on the door.

"Turk?"

Turk half jumped out of his chair, half laid something in it. He spun around to see Bryan at his doorway, leaning into the study.

"DAMN DUDE, At least KNOCK first!" Turk said, standing up. He was wearing a beat up pair of jeans and a white T-Shirt.

"I was in a hurry" Perry said, "I need a ship."

"What, no 'Hello! How are you?', no greeting?" Turk said, laughing, "You're not on the run again are you, mate?"

"I'm afraid so. Got a strange note on my doorstep this morning, said that my file would be edited to reflect my true history, and not the one that I paid those Hacker idiots to edit to allow me to lay low on Manhattan for a while. Hit a road block on the way over, and I left a little bit of a mess in the road. I've got fourty ei-"

"WHOA WHOA MAN! Slow the fuck down! You got a note from who?"

"There was no name, but it also came packaged with a 22nd Captain's uniform, which is what scares the hell out of me the most."

"What? What would the 22nd want with a dog like you?"

"No clue, man. That's exactly what I want to figure out. Which is why I need a ship."

Turk walked towards the door and Perry stepped out of his way as they entered the main body of the warehouse.

"Any of 'em is yours; just take your pick. You know I don't do much flying anymore anyways." Turk said.

"What about that Dagger? I'm used to the controls on those, flew 'em a bit with the Outcasts on some smuggling runs. How much?"

Turk looked around at Perry, and grinned "As much as I owe you for saving my ass on so many of those runs, I owe you a ship or two. She's yours."

"Great" said Perry, walking over to the craft and investigating the weapons on it.

"So, are you meeting them somewhere, then?" asked Turk.
"Battleship Miami, Texas. Lucky for me, there's a jumphole between New York and Texas closer to it than the Jumpgate, so I can take the road less traveled."

"Smart move. Well, the passcode into the craft is Overwatch, if you couldn't guess."

"Oh man, I miss the days of Overwatch. We were the baddest on the block! Never lost a single freighter under our escort, and we made bank off of our reputation too. Good times."

"Agreed" said Turk, turning slightly to signify that he had other things to atttend to.

"Well, I hate for this reunion to be so short lived, but it's not safe for me to linger here too long. My Hovercycle is near the entrance; keep it for me until I get back, will ya'?" asked Perry, climbing up into the craft's cockpit.

"Sure thing, man. And hey, No matter what them 22nd bastards want, Keep sharp!"

"As always" Perry said, shutting the cockpit canopy above him and firing up the engines. He slowly moved out of the warehouses' exit and flew towards space. It was too dangerous for him to take the Docking Ring, so he'd head out just outside of its Norfolk's scanner range and make for the Jumphole into Texas.

After a few minutes, he was in the upper orbit of Manhattan, and was now cruising around the planet wowards Rochester. As he was coming around the dark side of Manhattan, two unidentified ships appeared on his scanners. They were blazing right at him.

"Unidentified Ships, State your intentions."

"You need to come with us Mr. Perry, you are currently in grave danger, and we must act quickly." Said one of the ships.

"Explain to me why I should trust two ships that aren't even broadcasting an IFF Signal." Perry said, the two ships were still closing in from his port side.

"Who else are you going tto trust? We've not threatened you with life in prison yet, Have we?" Said the other ship.

Perry's eyes widened. How did they know about the note?
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Tue Sep 06, 2011 11:10 pm

"Why would you be helping me like this, assuming you're helping at all?" Perry asked over the radio, his mind now racing.

"Isn't it obvious? They threaten you with prison to meet them on their terms, on their turf, far away from everyone else, with a faceless person? It's a setup man! You set foot in that Battleship and they're holding all the cards."

Perry considered this, and knew it to be true. "Why would these guys be helping me?" He thought, "And more importantly, how di-" and then it hit him. He pulled the note from out of his pocket, and read it again, paying careful attention.

"Upon your entry into the Texas system, your progress will be monitored, should you make the wrong decision. I hope that you will not make the wrong decision"

Perhaps this was part of him being "monitored"? It was awfully strange that two unidentified ships approach him not even half an hour out of the Manhattan atmosphere.

"Sorry fellows, but I have no reason to trust you, and you can't offer me anything that I can't get myself. They may be holding all the cards, but if I go there I don't even get to play the game." Perry said. He warmed up his weapons just in case they didn't take two kindly to this...

"Have it your way." one of them said, and they veered off and shrank into the distance.

This all made so little sense to Bryan. All the evidence he had fit together just fine, but it didn't provide any clues as to what was to come, or what this was even all about. For the rest of the way to the Texas jumphole, rounding Rochester as a waypoint to hit the tradelane at a perfect perpendicular angle to minimize his sensor time on ships traveling on it, he couldn't stop trying to piece things together in a different way, trying to put a square screw in a round bolt.

Upon him entering through the Jumphole into the Texas system, he slowly approached the texas Jumpgate, until he could use long-range visuals to detect what might be there. He didn't see any warships, nothing high-profile for sure. A few transports, and their fighter escorts. No ships simply idling at the jumpgate. Perry turned around and started towards the Miami.

When it came into visual range, Perry killed his cruise engines toreduce signature radius and began to search the area visually and with his sensors. he picked up nobody outside the ship. No ships incoming, none outgoing. Not a single fighter lumed around it. Perry approached, and requested docking permission. The green light on his HUD flicked on, next to the "DOCK" panel, and he approached into the hangar.

The bay doors shut, and Perry's ship nested itself on one of the pads in the belly of the ship. He got out of the ship, and looked around. There was nobody there. No other fighters in the hangar. However, as soon as he was about to leave, the Bay Doors began to open, letting the Atmospheric Containment Field be visible, allowing one ship after another to enter. The two ships, Liberator Class, settled down as the Bay Doors shut themselves. The two men exited their fighters, and began walking towards Perry, who was also approaching them cautiously.

"What's this all about?" Said Perry to the two men.

"We will explain all of this in due time. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Xavier Thompson." Said the man on the left. He was a short, slender fellow. He had trim black hair and looked to be a bit younger than Perry himself, maybe in his early 20's.

"I'd introduce myself, but it seems as if you know enough about me already." Said Perry, half being humorous, half being an asshole.

"We have a very far-reaching influence, and resources for what we need are readily available." Said the other man, who had not spoken yet.

"And you are?" Asked Perry

"Joseph Jones." Said the man.

"So what exactly are we waiting on?" asked Perry, who was getting a bit impatient, despite they had not been there more than five minutes.

"Nothing. However, I thought you'd want to move to a more comfortable location before we begin discussing your Criminal Records." Said Xavier.

Perry agreed, and they moved through the corridors of the ship to a board meeting room. The men had a seat opposite the table from Perry, and drew some portable data drives from their pockets, pluggging them into the table, which had a touch-screen tabletop.

"So," Said Xavier, "We, or should I say, 'I', wanted to meet with you because of your outstanding record as the scum of society."

Perry was already not liking Xavier; his first remarks in the conversation didn't say much about his aggreable personality.

"What about it?" inquired Perry, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.

"Capital murder, piracy, armed robbery, forgery, terrorism, smuggling, the list goes on. You have over fifty charges against you in Liberty alone. That's a record to put you and your children and their grandchildren away for life." Xavier said, sliding a virtual piece of paper across the table to where Perry could see his summary of charges.

"I'm here, aren't I? Why aren't you arresting me and locking me away forever."

"Because someone who monitors our progress, Mine and Jones', believes that you have incredible potential in the 22nd, as you have eluded capture for several years, and managed to go so far as to "Lay low" on our capital planet on a snug apartment block." Said Xavier.

"Who is this person?"

"We are not allowed to say at this time." said Jones dimly.

"So, your friend hires you two to drag me out of my everyday life of trying to assimilate into society, under consequence of life in prison, just to be his messenger boy? I'm not buying it." Perry said to the men, It was true what he was saying. He was rather disinclined to cooperate with a middle man, when the person on the other end was too cowardly to reveal their own name.

"You will understand in greater detail later, should you agree to our terms." Said Xavier. He slid a second page across the digital countertop towards Perry.

"What's this?" Perry asked.

"His letter to us, about you. He believes that, considering your incredible record in all houses, Liberty being the highest bounty placer on your head, it takes great skill to not only live in Liberty, but to do it on our capital planet, and to so much as commit a few crimes and still get away with it. He's impressed, which is a very rare thing for this man."

Perry slid both the pages in front of him aside. He still wasn't quite convinced that this was a legitimate offer.

"So, John Doe asks you to come fetch me, heading up your most-wanted list, and throw me into your deepest, darkest corners of your fighting force that's been hunting me for years on end. Surely there's something more specific in mind."

Jones grinned, and slid another collection of pixels across the table for Perry to study.

"A new group of Outcasts has recently been making a name for themselves in Liberty and everywhere else their smuggling operations extend. They call themselves 'Velo de Silencio', translating to 'Veil of Silence', which is precisely what falls over the targets they set their sights on. They're not in the smuggling business for profit; they're out for blood, and they're incredibly efficient at getting it. We think that, with your background, you could be of great use in training a wing in the tactics of piracy, as whatever military training they're receiving isn't cutting it, as we've yet to catch a single member of their party."

"And what do I get for training your little strike team?" Perry asked.

"You get your freedom back." Xavier said, with a slight grin.

"I want proof that you and your 'guy upstairs' have the power and influence to make that happen." Perry said.

"You will have your proof. We will leave you to think this over for the evening. You will find some accommodations on the fourth deck, second hall, room one. We operate this Battleship as a safehouse for potentially threatened individuals. You are safe here." Jones said, standing up and taking his drive out of the table's port. Xavier stood as well, and so did Perry. The two men walked down towards the Hangar, and Perry made for the elevator to go to the fourth floor.

"Safehouse my ass; it can't save me from you." Perry thought as he boarded the elevator.
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

stefstratro
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Re: Fugitive

Post by stefstratro » Fri Sep 09, 2011 2:34 pm

I ain't reading this , it's just too god damn long ..

Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Fri Sep 09, 2011 3:59 pm

If you read the posts as I made them, it'd not be that big of a deal :P
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

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Re: Fugitive

Post by Hunter-1156DL » Tue Sep 13, 2011 8:13 pm

Damn it man... your good. "Outcast Smuggler" <--- My favorite part, for reasons
Man-of-War "Outcast Smuggler," BountyHunter-1156D leader of the "Bounty Hunters," Khaos right hand man for "Outcast Loaylist," Crimson in "K.N.F.," Crimson-Raider researcher for "C.I.F."

Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Tue Sep 13, 2011 9:12 pm

I'm going to continue this: Been a bit busy the past week. Will try to get a few more posts up by the end of this week.
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

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Re: Fugitive

Post by The_Marksta » Tue Sep 13, 2011 9:24 pm

good :D. It's interesting.
Fear none... Respect all

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Kraiz
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Re: Fugitive

Post by Kraiz » Wed Sep 14, 2011 9:21 am

For the duration of his stay on the Miami, Perry had a rather boring time. There were only a few other people on the whole batttleship, aside from the periodic maintenance and security officers who he'd spot roaming the corridors of the ship. Other than them, the ship was mostly deserted:He had free reign to go looking around, checking out all the systems and components of the battleship that he had never observed from the outside. However, the Battleship itself is limited in space, and Perry got quite bored after the second or third day of exploring.

He only had to wait four days until Xavier contacted him with the details on the start of the training. Perry saw 14 names on the list of cadets, and they were coming right out of Liberty Navy Combat Training, so hopefully they knew how to handle their craft well enough to survive the first few days of training. The training was to be conducted daily for five hours, then a one hour lunch break, and then another. So, Perry soon no longer had a boredoem problem.

As these training sessions began, however, he soon learned that the pilots he was to educate on the finer arts of piracy and smuggling were barely fit to fight off a few asteroids. So, he had a frustratingly difficult time of teaching them proper dodging maneuvers, how to evade missiles when you are out of Countermeasure flares, how to maneuver so you can fire on one target and swiftly transition to another as the first leaves your firing zone, and so on. After two weeks, he was mildly satisfied with their progress, and was beginning to enjoy the classes, now that all of the basics and "Grunt Work" of the job were done.

At the end of the third week, at the end of one of the sessions, Perry hovered up into the belly of the Miami to see Xavier's Liberator in the hangar, with Xavier waiting for him next to it. Perry set down his own fighter and hopped down from the cockpit.

"I'm assuming that you need something." Said Perry, approaching him.

"Yes, I do. Follow me." Xavier said, using his usual cut and dry tone of voice.

Xavier led Perry into the meeting room again where they had sat a few weeks prior, and the two men took their seats.

"So, tell me;" said Xavier, taking a pipe from his coat pocket and lighting it, "How are the recruits coming along?"

"Considering that I had to teach them the extreme basics, basics for me anyways, and then get to the matter at hand; after two weeks of actual Counter-Piracy training, they're coming along nicely, but they've got a lot to learn still." Perry responded. He put his arms on the table and interlaced his fingers, leaning forwards on his elbows.

"Hmm," grunted Xavier, taking a puff from his pipe. "I don't suppose that they would be ready for any real duties yet, then?"

"Depends. If you need them to babysit a convoy of transports; they're fine. But they won't last two minutes against a proper smuggling run."

"I ask this because we have intelligence of a small smuggling run being operated by the Veil. It's not a full operation; a single transport and a few escort fighters and a wing of bombers. Certain parties believe that it would be beneficial for your wings to get some live-fire practice on an actual operation. Since this is a small operation that seems to be operating under the principle of stealth rather than force."

"For something as simple as that, they should do fine. However, I'd have a few extra wings of navy fighters in the area in case it's a bait transport, which is entirely possible." Perry was thinking over the scenario in his mind. It's a classic bait and switch trap; and even the fools in the Liberty Navy wouldn't fall for something this obvious.

"Good. You and your squadron will leave in 06:00. I'll send you the express details thr-" he was cut short.

"Whoa now, slow down there buddy. I'm not going anywhere! You dragged me into this to train your pest control, not be a part of them." Said Perry, pointing his finger at Xavier. He didn't like where this was heading at all, but he knew that he had little to no choice in the mattter.

"We view this as a 'Training Exercise', and not an official sortie." Xavier said, "And even then, it was in the agreement that you signed just a few days after you arrived here on this ship."

"Training operation my ass!" Perry snapped through clenched teeth, "This is more than a live-fire exercise; it's a real life-or-death scenario, and you're sending in fourteen ine-"

"I think you will see that the list of cadets has only fourteen names, with the first squadron leading the wing having only four. I'd have hoped you would have used some common sense and logic, and have at least read our contract, Mr. Perry." Xavier said, standing up and blowing a smoke ring up into the air vent.

"Fuck your contract. I'd rather spend the rest of my life in prison than running suicide missions for your pimp upstairs."

Xavier reached into his jacket and drew a LB-200 Pistol from his waist and raised it to Perry's head. "That is no longer an option. Your first option is standing right in front of you. Your second option is in 06:00 hours. Make your decision here and now, Mr. Perry."
"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The only real nobility is in being superior to your former self."

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