GR RP 'Adventures In GunRunning' ACT 25
POSTED BY: CapnRahn
UPDATED: Monday, May 30, 2005 17:34
VIEWED: 27521
PAGE 10 of 10
Malachi's Move
Location: His Ship, standing next to Slight... at last.
"It's been long enough. I should contact him again." Malachi says while staring at Brink Helsing, aka Slight. He sniffs the ionized air. "Listen up. I have a plan... The airlocks on this ship aren't compatible with any other airlocks for easy access, so in order to transport your "body" to him, we'd need to set up a tubular access vestible." Malachi chuckles to himself at his choice of words. "So, when he steps into the access passage between the ships, we blow it into space. Simple, no mess, no fuss." A quick smile flits across his face and Malachi settles down into the pilot's chair. "Let's work out the fine details..."
EM
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Inara: Who's winning?
Simon: I can't really tell, they don't seem to be playing by any civilized rules that I know.
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Slights Move:
Slight shakes his head.
Problem with that is, won't kill him. Don't you remember? Blue Sun supersoldiers have been biologically enhanced to survive long enough in a total vaccuum to be able to return to our ship. Besides, he already intends to kill you, so he won't want to bother with any access tube. Like yourself, he has no desire to leave any mess. I'll just prance over and incapacitate him. Who knows, maybe i can actually capture. Get wind of what my fathers company is trying right now, and what. . . for just a second, Slight pauses, wondering if he should tell Malachi about the cargo that was such a big deal. Nah. something like that is doing out here. Lotta great intelligence out there.
Suddenly, he can feel one of the hollow memories seem to drift away. Like sand out of his hands, he keeps. . .forgetting things. He doesn't know what-they're gone like mountain mist, too whispy to hold. Whatever the memory was, it triggered something. He can feel those little nanytes all prick him at once, and almost instantly, he feels. . .
Juiced.
Hardly able to stand still now. All the nanytes are clinking into armor. The guns are ready. He is ready. Time to go. Go. Go. Go. Go go go go go gogogogogogogogo,
GO!
With a scream, he lunches himself to the airlock, ready to take on the world.
Wizards Eighth Rule: Deserve Victory
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Bolo's move
Still on his ship
He stands at the airlock himself with it open, he is actually holding the door as it was, he has no intention of allowing them to wait any longer and with a push he glides across quickly through the fluid vacuum and lands on the opposing ship, inside a resounding ring and a crunch as suddenly he plunges a metl hand in and grasps the hull.
Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke, I collect stuffed penguins, if you don't tell I won't.
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Slights move:
Slight is stopped in his tracks as he hears the dull throb of the ship. This things to small. The ensuing gunfight is going to be too chaotic.
With a curse, he knows what he has to do. He unfocuses his eyes, and sees the other ship. It's a straight shot to the airlock. Better take his chances. His skin feels tight-he tries to remember if he was in a vacuum.
Not now. Gotta focus. Bring 'em down. Get him away from here.
He smiles and twitches his head to one side in a sort of shrug. Okay. Let's do that.
He pops open the airlock, and launches his body at the Blue Fury, twisting in mid-jump, firing at Bolo to get his attention. He grabs the other airlock. Then he realizes what's wrong.
This whole time, he could feel Malachi. When Bolo had been there, he'd felt him too. But like a pile of sand in the wind, he can't seem to feel him strongly anymore. Using every measure of his mental strength he clutches onto Bolo's evanescent essence, and tries to call him mockingly, giving him an insult on many different levels.
Blue Sun operative? More like a blue-balled little girl. You want what you're coming for? I'm right here. Can't you see me? Then come on! I want to die! Can't you manage that, holy man? I'm the grand prize, and your luh-suh performance is a shame to all the Powers. A decent Nemesis woulda ground me into a pulp by now. Sad little man, you are.
Slight jumps into the airlock, sliding it shut and letting the blessed heat wash over him. He feels the consant prick of that swarm, and his muscles are spasming once in a while in complaint. He dismisses it. Now's not the time.
He hustles from the airlock, turtling down at a nearby hatch. He does a tactical reload, sliding home an extended clip. Now all he can do is wait.
Live or die. That's all he knows right now.
Live or die.
Wizards Eighth Rule: Deserve Victory
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HAITUS OVER - NEW ACT!!!
Find it here:
http://fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=17&t=10430&m=143290#143290
"I've heard more intelligent sounds coming out of a pair of corduroys" - Herbert Phillip Lovecraft from *Cast A Deadly Spell*
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