The Stainless Steel Metroid
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- Singular Quartet
- Sith Marauder
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The Stainless Steel Metroid
Written largely to get the idea out of my head. It was either this or another group of bounty hunters, but "The Stainless Steel Rat Sings the Blues" already exists. With the storyline for this thing, I'm having more trouble deciding between "The Stainless Steel Metroid" or "The Stainless Steel Rat Fights the Metroids."
It'll be said later, but I figure I should mention this now: This takes place after The Stainless Steel Rat For President. And yes, there will be creepy crawlies and things that go bump in the night. There may also be mind-raping, but I doubt it.
Introduction
In time, after the destruction of the Biologic Space Laboratories, the destruction of SR388, and the extinction of the X, I came to a second conclusion: They billed me for the new ship.
The testimony of the doctors who saved my life, along with the mission reports of both Adam and myself, saved me from an invoice for the entire station, and possibly the planet as well. I imagine, somewhere, Admiral Dane, the man behind thePhazon Enhancement Suits, the man who had so graciously ordered modifications to my suit while I was comatose inside it, had used his leverage as "Destroyer of the Space Pirate Menace" to have me billed for the ship that was given to me in exchange for this job.
Because I had saved him from the X. I had saved him from a monster even worse than the Space Pirates, one that was without mercy and malice, a homogenizing swarm that would wipe out all life, making it into itself. And because I'd helped blow up his metroid breeding program. I think that was the big thing, there.
Ships are not cheap. I know this, because I have been forced to purchase several. Bounty hunting is hard on a ship, and it's possible to red-line engines, crash into atmospheres, and plow through heavy weapons fire only so many times before a space frame gets sent to the graveyard. Generally, I can recoup some of the costs from a ship corpse, especially with the ones I buy. I auctioned one off to fans, once, and that more than paid for a new one. But then I was still in themilitary's good graces, and could get them on the cheap.
I also had money, then.
I still do have money. Just not very much.
"Adam, use my license to check the police nets. We need a bounty."
"Within range, we've got around one hundred and fifteen separate bounties. There's only one that's going to make the trip worth it."
"Let's see it." The screen gave me two faces, side-by-side. Names were underneath them. I didn't need to look. All bounty hunters recognize the man's face, and all good bounty hunters recognize both.
"Are you sure there isn't anything else?"
"Nothing that pays enough, Lady."
I was quiet for a moment. Nothing but the hum of the ship around me, and the slow snoring of Etecoons and a Dachora behind me. I was hoping to give them to the Luminoth of Aether, as my life wouldn't be good for their health... but there wasn't enough fuel to reach Aether.
"What about multiple bounties on a single planet?"
"None of them even share star systems."
Staring at a screen uses fuel gel, a substance I was had precious little of at the moment.
"Set a course and give me local politics. These two pick the planets they run to."
Chapter 1
I stared at the desolate shelving with annoyance on my face and glee in my heart. I and my wife, who was looking at a likewise desolate shelf three aisles away, were late shoppers on what retailers liked to call "Orange Swivensday," for the color of the local currency. Every person who did not have one eye on a profit margin and another on a consumer's wallet called this fine day "Black Swivensday."
I, in one of my many reveries into the murky depths of records and time, looked into the history of the very phrase itself. Ancient wisdom declares that one must know thine enemy, and I know this one well. Another "Sales Associate," her name stamped in crisp red letters to be "Nicole," stepped into my aisle.
"Can I help you find anything?"
"No, you're probably out of it," I reply with a drained voice. "I'll just pick through the rubble."
Nicole smiled, and continued onwards. The perky voice of my lovely wife carried over the shelving, stating she was quite alright.
Black Swivensday, primitive belief held it, was the first day many retailers actually turned a profit. Thus, it was called "Black" for the company finally went "into the black."
This is lunacy.
No company could ever fail to turn a profit three quarters out of a year unless it was backed or owned by the government. Any company that had this business model would never find money. Business ventures require careful planning in order to succeed. Whether that venture is legal or not, is another matter entirely. My own business venture had quite a bit of careful planning, as all of my ventures have, and it has been sound planning. For example, there is a reason I am carrying a .75 recoilless under my coat, and likewise my darling wife is carrying a sawed-off shotgun under her shawl. Likewise, there is a reason we are both waiting for the store to close. I continued on to the next aisle with a grocery bag from next door dragging at my shoulder. It contained another important part of my plan, likewise did the truck we had stolen and modified for this plan.
"Attention shoppers, the time is now ten o'clock, and we are now closed for the evening. Please proceed to the front, where our cashiers will be happy to ring out your purchases. Thank you, and have a nice evening."
The building was empty except for the associates as my darling wife and I walked up to the customer service desk, the last customers having walked out the doors.
I cheerfully greeted the employee at the service desk, and requested both the money in the register and access to the store's safe. She frowned, at which point I pulled out my .75 and my loving wife pulled out her shotgun. She tapped a few keys on her register, popping open the draw before moving on to the next one. She motioned for the other cashiers to go back into the store, and moved through the few registers still active and dropped the draw on the counter. The remaining registers, it was plain to see, had already been counted, their contents moved to the safe. I reminded the employee that I wished to see the safe as well, and she led me into their money room.
All safes have a set of given truths. Unless you know exactly what you're dealing with, there is no easy and simple way to open one. Explosives will burn the contents and cutting through them requires either time or more money than can be held in the safe. Thus comes the second defense in theft of it's contents: having a large and heavy safe, to prevent it from being moved except by truck. We have a truck. It was, quite unexpectedly, provided to us by our previous employers, pre-modified for our own benefit.
I attached a pair of very large and specialized electro-magnets to the front of the safe, and hit the button that moves the truck into position. A small radio behind my ear informs me that the police have been contacted, are enroute, and will arrive in seven minutes due to traffic. Myself and the associate step out of the cash room, and I press the second button. There is a thunderous crash in the cash room. The employee re-opened the door to the room, and she stared at the gaping hole in the wall, the safe sitting in the opened back of our truck, my darling wife waving from the driver's seat. I step out through the hole, waving to the employee, still standing and staring, and remind her to have a good evening. I slap shut the doors to the truck, and step into the passenger seat.
The radio chirps again, reminding me I have another four minutes before the police arrive.
"Shall we?" I ask Angelina.
"We shall," she replies, gunning the engine. Out and out armed robbery was not something we committed fairly regularly, but this place was an exception. By and large, the place was a corporate paradise, and they paid their security firms good money to keep their sections that way. The rest of the planet, however... the rest of the planet was left to its own devices, shall we say. Such was the way of Hive Worlds, especially in the fringe. Eitherway, this planet had a lot of money, a lot of robbery insurance, and a halfway decent police.
"Police diverted to intercept. ETA 5 minutes," chirped the radio in my ear as Angelina turned down a ramp into the lower depths of the city. The roads were empty as all cars were required by law to carry a warning light, saying the police were in the area, and that they needed to pull over.
"Police ETA to intercept 3 minutes," chirped the radio once more. I tapped a few commands into the dashboard's computer, diverting the police radio directly into my earpiece.
"-get is still enroute, following course 48 towards intercept 7. Over" Gruff, male. Ex-military from how he spoke, enunciating everything but talking fast enough to make it just before unintelligable. I had dealt with this type before. He had placed me into a box, and I needed to step out of it, to keep him off guard.
"Let's get evasive, darling. As much as we don't want a high speed chase, we simply must begin one."
The voice kept its even tone. "Target has begun evasive maneuvers. Over"
A different voice, now. Still male, but more police than military. "Hammer, are you inpursuit? Over."
A woman, this time. "ETA 1 minute, Over."
Think fast, diGriz, they're almost on you. They're police. If there's a Hammer, then there's also an Anvil. The Anvil was intercept 7, Hammer, must, then, be behind us. I touched the dash again, showing the empty road behind us. I could see everything just fine with the lights hanging from the concrete ceiling above us, let alone the radar unit built into the rear bumper.
"Hammer in position and target in intercept 7. Do we have force confirmation?" said the Ex-military. Force confirmation?
"What's a force confirmation?" I spoke aloud.
Angelina suddenly hit the brakes and slammed us into reverse.
"Force is confirmed. Repeat, force is confirmed. Happy hunting, Hammer."
"Bounty Hunter," my darling and I spoke together. And then the roof exploded.
It'll be said later, but I figure I should mention this now: This takes place after The Stainless Steel Rat For President. And yes, there will be creepy crawlies and things that go bump in the night. There may also be mind-raping, but I doubt it.
Introduction
In time, after the destruction of the Biologic Space Laboratories, the destruction of SR388, and the extinction of the X, I came to a second conclusion: They billed me for the new ship.
The testimony of the doctors who saved my life, along with the mission reports of both Adam and myself, saved me from an invoice for the entire station, and possibly the planet as well. I imagine, somewhere, Admiral Dane, the man behind thePhazon Enhancement Suits, the man who had so graciously ordered modifications to my suit while I was comatose inside it, had used his leverage as "Destroyer of the Space Pirate Menace" to have me billed for the ship that was given to me in exchange for this job.
Because I had saved him from the X. I had saved him from a monster even worse than the Space Pirates, one that was without mercy and malice, a homogenizing swarm that would wipe out all life, making it into itself. And because I'd helped blow up his metroid breeding program. I think that was the big thing, there.
Ships are not cheap. I know this, because I have been forced to purchase several. Bounty hunting is hard on a ship, and it's possible to red-line engines, crash into atmospheres, and plow through heavy weapons fire only so many times before a space frame gets sent to the graveyard. Generally, I can recoup some of the costs from a ship corpse, especially with the ones I buy. I auctioned one off to fans, once, and that more than paid for a new one. But then I was still in themilitary's good graces, and could get them on the cheap.
I also had money, then.
I still do have money. Just not very much.
"Adam, use my license to check the police nets. We need a bounty."
"Within range, we've got around one hundred and fifteen separate bounties. There's only one that's going to make the trip worth it."
"Let's see it." The screen gave me two faces, side-by-side. Names were underneath them. I didn't need to look. All bounty hunters recognize the man's face, and all good bounty hunters recognize both.
"Are you sure there isn't anything else?"
"Nothing that pays enough, Lady."
I was quiet for a moment. Nothing but the hum of the ship around me, and the slow snoring of Etecoons and a Dachora behind me. I was hoping to give them to the Luminoth of Aether, as my life wouldn't be good for their health... but there wasn't enough fuel to reach Aether.
"What about multiple bounties on a single planet?"
"None of them even share star systems."
Staring at a screen uses fuel gel, a substance I was had precious little of at the moment.
"Set a course and give me local politics. These two pick the planets they run to."
Chapter 1
I stared at the desolate shelving with annoyance on my face and glee in my heart. I and my wife, who was looking at a likewise desolate shelf three aisles away, were late shoppers on what retailers liked to call "Orange Swivensday," for the color of the local currency. Every person who did not have one eye on a profit margin and another on a consumer's wallet called this fine day "Black Swivensday."
I, in one of my many reveries into the murky depths of records and time, looked into the history of the very phrase itself. Ancient wisdom declares that one must know thine enemy, and I know this one well. Another "Sales Associate," her name stamped in crisp red letters to be "Nicole," stepped into my aisle.
"Can I help you find anything?"
"No, you're probably out of it," I reply with a drained voice. "I'll just pick through the rubble."
Nicole smiled, and continued onwards. The perky voice of my lovely wife carried over the shelving, stating she was quite alright.
Black Swivensday, primitive belief held it, was the first day many retailers actually turned a profit. Thus, it was called "Black" for the company finally went "into the black."
This is lunacy.
No company could ever fail to turn a profit three quarters out of a year unless it was backed or owned by the government. Any company that had this business model would never find money. Business ventures require careful planning in order to succeed. Whether that venture is legal or not, is another matter entirely. My own business venture had quite a bit of careful planning, as all of my ventures have, and it has been sound planning. For example, there is a reason I am carrying a .75 recoilless under my coat, and likewise my darling wife is carrying a sawed-off shotgun under her shawl. Likewise, there is a reason we are both waiting for the store to close. I continued on to the next aisle with a grocery bag from next door dragging at my shoulder. It contained another important part of my plan, likewise did the truck we had stolen and modified for this plan.
"Attention shoppers, the time is now ten o'clock, and we are now closed for the evening. Please proceed to the front, where our cashiers will be happy to ring out your purchases. Thank you, and have a nice evening."
The building was empty except for the associates as my darling wife and I walked up to the customer service desk, the last customers having walked out the doors.
I cheerfully greeted the employee at the service desk, and requested both the money in the register and access to the store's safe. She frowned, at which point I pulled out my .75 and my loving wife pulled out her shotgun. She tapped a few keys on her register, popping open the draw before moving on to the next one. She motioned for the other cashiers to go back into the store, and moved through the few registers still active and dropped the draw on the counter. The remaining registers, it was plain to see, had already been counted, their contents moved to the safe. I reminded the employee that I wished to see the safe as well, and she led me into their money room.
All safes have a set of given truths. Unless you know exactly what you're dealing with, there is no easy and simple way to open one. Explosives will burn the contents and cutting through them requires either time or more money than can be held in the safe. Thus comes the second defense in theft of it's contents: having a large and heavy safe, to prevent it from being moved except by truck. We have a truck. It was, quite unexpectedly, provided to us by our previous employers, pre-modified for our own benefit.
I attached a pair of very large and specialized electro-magnets to the front of the safe, and hit the button that moves the truck into position. A small radio behind my ear informs me that the police have been contacted, are enroute, and will arrive in seven minutes due to traffic. Myself and the associate step out of the cash room, and I press the second button. There is a thunderous crash in the cash room. The employee re-opened the door to the room, and she stared at the gaping hole in the wall, the safe sitting in the opened back of our truck, my darling wife waving from the driver's seat. I step out through the hole, waving to the employee, still standing and staring, and remind her to have a good evening. I slap shut the doors to the truck, and step into the passenger seat.
The radio chirps again, reminding me I have another four minutes before the police arrive.
"Shall we?" I ask Angelina.
"We shall," she replies, gunning the engine. Out and out armed robbery was not something we committed fairly regularly, but this place was an exception. By and large, the place was a corporate paradise, and they paid their security firms good money to keep their sections that way. The rest of the planet, however... the rest of the planet was left to its own devices, shall we say. Such was the way of Hive Worlds, especially in the fringe. Eitherway, this planet had a lot of money, a lot of robbery insurance, and a halfway decent police.
"Police diverted to intercept. ETA 5 minutes," chirped the radio in my ear as Angelina turned down a ramp into the lower depths of the city. The roads were empty as all cars were required by law to carry a warning light, saying the police were in the area, and that they needed to pull over.
"Police ETA to intercept 3 minutes," chirped the radio once more. I tapped a few commands into the dashboard's computer, diverting the police radio directly into my earpiece.
"-get is still enroute, following course 48 towards intercept 7. Over" Gruff, male. Ex-military from how he spoke, enunciating everything but talking fast enough to make it just before unintelligable. I had dealt with this type before. He had placed me into a box, and I needed to step out of it, to keep him off guard.
"Let's get evasive, darling. As much as we don't want a high speed chase, we simply must begin one."
The voice kept its even tone. "Target has begun evasive maneuvers. Over"
A different voice, now. Still male, but more police than military. "Hammer, are you inpursuit? Over."
A woman, this time. "ETA 1 minute, Over."
Think fast, diGriz, they're almost on you. They're police. If there's a Hammer, then there's also an Anvil. The Anvil was intercept 7, Hammer, must, then, be behind us. I touched the dash again, showing the empty road behind us. I could see everything just fine with the lights hanging from the concrete ceiling above us, let alone the radar unit built into the rear bumper.
"Hammer in position and target in intercept 7. Do we have force confirmation?" said the Ex-military. Force confirmation?
"What's a force confirmation?" I spoke aloud.
Angelina suddenly hit the brakes and slammed us into reverse.
"Force is confirmed. Repeat, force is confirmed. Happy hunting, Hammer."
"Bounty Hunter," my darling and I spoke together. And then the roof exploded.
Last edited by Singular Quartet on 2008-08-18 07:27am, edited 1 time in total.
- White Haven
- Sith Acolyte
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...Stainl...st--*twitch* Stainless Steel Rat/Metroid crossover. You, sir, just made my head explode. I'm speaking to you live from a backup.
Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
- The Grim Squeaker
- Emperor's Hand
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- Contact:
Metroid is good, anything Metroid is good . Stainless steel rat...Well, I read the prequel at least .
Photography
Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.
To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.
Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.
To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.
- Singular Quartet
- Sith Marauder
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Pick up the first one. Sure, you have to deal with old technology (tapes! The robots are programmed with tapes!) but they are still awesome. Don't read the prequels, though. They aren't as good as the later ones.DEATH wrote:Metroid is good, anything Metroid is good . Stainless steel rat...Well, I read the prequel at least .
- The Grim Squeaker
- Emperor's Hand
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The only ones I have are 2 prequels . (And those froma used bookshop, they don't sell the books here in desertland)Singular Quartet wrote:Pick up the first one. Sure, you have to deal with old technology (tapes! The robots are programmed with tapes!) but they are still awesome. Don't read the prequels, though. They aren't as good as the later ones.DEATH wrote:Metroid is good, anything Metroid is good . Stainless steel rat...Well, I read the prequel at least .
Photography
Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.
To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.
Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.
To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.
- Singular Quartet
- Sith Marauder
- Posts: 3896
- Joined: 2002-07-04 05:33pm
- Location: This is sky. It is made of FUCKING and LIMIT.
Metroid-Rat 02
Chunks of roof fell behind us, dura-crete and adamatine re-bar flooding the road, blocking it off. Angelina threw the truck in drive and stood on the gas. The tires squealed before they caught, just as the roof ahead of us exploded downwards, blocking the front. Floating through the hole was a spaceship.
A purple spaceship.
A long range fighter of some sort, I recall seeing one or two in the Spacial Corps hangers. I'd never had a chance to take a proper look at them, and even if I did, I imagine it would have been no help against this one. Anyone who has one painted purple is likely to have customized it in other ways as well. We could both see the rather large missile racks under the ship's wings, so me and Angelina decided the game was up. We stepped from the truck as the engines of the fighter cycled down. The top hatch opened, and in a ray of light, rose a golden creature.
"Surely we can talk about this?"
Its right arm lifted, and a wash of fire passed between us, blasting a hole through our truck. I looked back, and it was, indeed, through the truck. Including the safe, and a fair ways through the dura-crete pile behind us.
"Put your hands above your head, don't talk, don't move," spoke the military man, amplified over the fighter's loudspeakers.
---
I'd have preferred some kind of sleep gas, but I wasn't about to trust them to be unconscious. I also wished I had some of the old scanners from my previous jaunts, preferably the X-ray visor. Can't be helped, I suppose.
I waited behind them for the armored cars and the car's escort. One for each car. They were chained, searched, stripped, and I followed from above just for good measure.
We arrived at the station without incident, and I followed the whole procession to the holding cells as diGriz chatted up everyone and everything. He also stared at me, wondering just who or what I was, I imagine. I just wanted them in the cells so I could collect my pay.
"It says you can't collect the bounty," replied the desk sergeant.
My hand went to my visor, and my gun tapped the desk.
"Why?" I asked.
"It just says you can't, I don't know why."
My gun tapped harder.
"My license is in order, isn't it?"
"Yes, your license is in order," he replied, eyeing the arm cannon, his voice speeding up. "All the paperwork's in order. Fingerprints and DNA testing both came back positive, they are James Bolivar and Angelina diGriz. I'm putting your hunter ID through, and its refusing the transfer."
I sighed, taking back my license, and opened a channel to Adam as I leaned against a wall.
"They aren't handing over the money."
"I know, Lady. I watched the transfer. The Federation's put a hold on it, somehow. They've registered it as collected, however, and they've put out payment to the arresting officers, but they're withholding the full capture bounty. The only wording I have on it is ethics violation."
"Any idea who put that in?"
"No, but I think we could both guess."
I cut the channel and wandered down to the holding cells, where the diGriz's were sitting, quite moodily, across from each other, each wearing a pair of drab overalls. Jim had a black eye and was planning something, while Angelina just looked angry. Four officers stood, two for each cell, each pair watching the one across from them. I knew what had happened, but I was wondering how. Federation law is pretty strict, and there had to be some impressive circumstances to let this happen. If my license was still in order, then it had to be the prisoners.
"Come to gloat?" asked Angelina. I was silent, looking back and forth at the two of them. "Proud of yourself? That you captured the Stainless Steel Rat family? Congratulations. I'll be sure to send you a thank you package stuffed with an assortment of explosives and detonators. So tell me, who are you? I'd like to have a forwarding address." Angelina kept staring at the back of my helmet. I looked at her, and her own vision bored into my visor. Her eyes narrowed, glaring through the tint. Could she see me through it?
"Just what are you?" asked Angelina.
"Stuck here," I replied. "Just like you."
"Somehow, I don't see my position quite the same as yours," shot diGriz, but I laughed.
"No, nothing's ever exactly the same." I looked at them. "Might as well be, though. Have you ever been trapped to a single world? Unable to leave, even though you know anybody else can?"
He stared back at me, and nodded.
"Was that before you had ever travelled amongst the stars? Or after?"
"Before," he replied. "I was born on a fairly backwater world. Raised as a farmer, and knew it wasn't for me. What about you?"
"Me? I was born on a newly settled colony. My parents were slaughtered by pirates when I was four, and I've been a spacefarer ever since. And now I'm trapped here, diGriz. I am not a happy bounty hunter."
"I would think the bounty on our heads would make you a very happy bounty hunter," Jim replied.
"Except I don't have a cent of it. Now I know these officers are getting a bonus for helping arrest you, but that doesn't even put a dent in the price on your head. So tell me, diGriz. Why am I not getting paid?"
He was silent.
"You didn't get paid?" asked an officer.
"No," I replied, still staring at Jim. The officers looked at each other, then back at me.
"I think I need to take a leak," said the first officer. I turned and looked at him. He was looking at the other three. Each one chimed that they suddenly needed to use the restroom as well. "Huh," said the first. "Well, looks like we'll have to leave you alone with them. Here's the keys in case there's any problems. Hope they don't get to rowdy or anything." All four of them left, leaving me alone with the keys to their cells.
"So, now that they're gone. You can answer my question. Why didn't I get paid?"
"I have no idea why you wouldn't get paid."
I looked at him. He had spent his life as a thief and a pathological liar. I only knew he was lying because there was a real reason.
"You do know. But you can't tell me, can you? What are you afraid of? I know you. I've read every psychological profile of you that's ever been written, because I, like all bounty hunters, once entertained the idea of catching you. That's the line, for bounty hunters. Did you know that? You're the one that makes us or breaks us. Whether or not we realize in time that there's no way we can catch you, not until we get better, until we get lucky. How does that make you feel, to know that you're that important to us?"
He mulled it over a second, before saying "Pretty special, actually."
"I'm glad I could shore up your ego. And I know its a damn big one. But your ego wouldn't have dragged you here. Your brain says where you'll go, and this is one of the worst planets to go to for armed robbery. The police are mercenaries for hire and deal with the likes of your on a regular basis. I know these types. Those four walked because they thought I was going to beat you two into a bloody pulp. But you came here anyways. And that means you have a reason to come here. What was that reason?"
Silence pervades the room.
"I bet you know, too," I said, looking at Angelina. "I bet you knew why those cops left, too. The profiles were never very clear with you. I think one treated you as little more than a walking hostage suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, forced into helping him until you loved him."
She gritted her teeth at that.
"Blatant lies!" shouted the diGriz behind me.
"I know. You're both a pair of crooks. You're the leader, for certain, but you've got a wife with plenty of crooked brains in her head. You're perfect matches for each other. God only knows how you found each other, but I know this much. Once you two found each other, you went legitimate. You two work for someone in the Federation. And you were on a mission. One the boys upstairs don't know about, and I fucked it up, didn't I? That's why I'm not getting paid."
"To a certain extent, yes," said a man smoking a cigar.
Chunks of roof fell behind us, dura-crete and adamatine re-bar flooding the road, blocking it off. Angelina threw the truck in drive and stood on the gas. The tires squealed before they caught, just as the roof ahead of us exploded downwards, blocking the front. Floating through the hole was a spaceship.
A purple spaceship.
A long range fighter of some sort, I recall seeing one or two in the Spacial Corps hangers. I'd never had a chance to take a proper look at them, and even if I did, I imagine it would have been no help against this one. Anyone who has one painted purple is likely to have customized it in other ways as well. We could both see the rather large missile racks under the ship's wings, so me and Angelina decided the game was up. We stepped from the truck as the engines of the fighter cycled down. The top hatch opened, and in a ray of light, rose a golden creature.
"Surely we can talk about this?"
Its right arm lifted, and a wash of fire passed between us, blasting a hole through our truck. I looked back, and it was, indeed, through the truck. Including the safe, and a fair ways through the dura-crete pile behind us.
"Put your hands above your head, don't talk, don't move," spoke the military man, amplified over the fighter's loudspeakers.
---
I'd have preferred some kind of sleep gas, but I wasn't about to trust them to be unconscious. I also wished I had some of the old scanners from my previous jaunts, preferably the X-ray visor. Can't be helped, I suppose.
I waited behind them for the armored cars and the car's escort. One for each car. They were chained, searched, stripped, and I followed from above just for good measure.
We arrived at the station without incident, and I followed the whole procession to the holding cells as diGriz chatted up everyone and everything. He also stared at me, wondering just who or what I was, I imagine. I just wanted them in the cells so I could collect my pay.
"It says you can't collect the bounty," replied the desk sergeant.
My hand went to my visor, and my gun tapped the desk.
"Why?" I asked.
"It just says you can't, I don't know why."
My gun tapped harder.
"My license is in order, isn't it?"
"Yes, your license is in order," he replied, eyeing the arm cannon, his voice speeding up. "All the paperwork's in order. Fingerprints and DNA testing both came back positive, they are James Bolivar and Angelina diGriz. I'm putting your hunter ID through, and its refusing the transfer."
I sighed, taking back my license, and opened a channel to Adam as I leaned against a wall.
"They aren't handing over the money."
"I know, Lady. I watched the transfer. The Federation's put a hold on it, somehow. They've registered it as collected, however, and they've put out payment to the arresting officers, but they're withholding the full capture bounty. The only wording I have on it is ethics violation."
"Any idea who put that in?"
"No, but I think we could both guess."
I cut the channel and wandered down to the holding cells, where the diGriz's were sitting, quite moodily, across from each other, each wearing a pair of drab overalls. Jim had a black eye and was planning something, while Angelina just looked angry. Four officers stood, two for each cell, each pair watching the one across from them. I knew what had happened, but I was wondering how. Federation law is pretty strict, and there had to be some impressive circumstances to let this happen. If my license was still in order, then it had to be the prisoners.
"Come to gloat?" asked Angelina. I was silent, looking back and forth at the two of them. "Proud of yourself? That you captured the Stainless Steel Rat family? Congratulations. I'll be sure to send you a thank you package stuffed with an assortment of explosives and detonators. So tell me, who are you? I'd like to have a forwarding address." Angelina kept staring at the back of my helmet. I looked at her, and her own vision bored into my visor. Her eyes narrowed, glaring through the tint. Could she see me through it?
"Just what are you?" asked Angelina.
"Stuck here," I replied. "Just like you."
"Somehow, I don't see my position quite the same as yours," shot diGriz, but I laughed.
"No, nothing's ever exactly the same." I looked at them. "Might as well be, though. Have you ever been trapped to a single world? Unable to leave, even though you know anybody else can?"
He stared back at me, and nodded.
"Was that before you had ever travelled amongst the stars? Or after?"
"Before," he replied. "I was born on a fairly backwater world. Raised as a farmer, and knew it wasn't for me. What about you?"
"Me? I was born on a newly settled colony. My parents were slaughtered by pirates when I was four, and I've been a spacefarer ever since. And now I'm trapped here, diGriz. I am not a happy bounty hunter."
"I would think the bounty on our heads would make you a very happy bounty hunter," Jim replied.
"Except I don't have a cent of it. Now I know these officers are getting a bonus for helping arrest you, but that doesn't even put a dent in the price on your head. So tell me, diGriz. Why am I not getting paid?"
He was silent.
"You didn't get paid?" asked an officer.
"No," I replied, still staring at Jim. The officers looked at each other, then back at me.
"I think I need to take a leak," said the first officer. I turned and looked at him. He was looking at the other three. Each one chimed that they suddenly needed to use the restroom as well. "Huh," said the first. "Well, looks like we'll have to leave you alone with them. Here's the keys in case there's any problems. Hope they don't get to rowdy or anything." All four of them left, leaving me alone with the keys to their cells.
"So, now that they're gone. You can answer my question. Why didn't I get paid?"
"I have no idea why you wouldn't get paid."
I looked at him. He had spent his life as a thief and a pathological liar. I only knew he was lying because there was a real reason.
"You do know. But you can't tell me, can you? What are you afraid of? I know you. I've read every psychological profile of you that's ever been written, because I, like all bounty hunters, once entertained the idea of catching you. That's the line, for bounty hunters. Did you know that? You're the one that makes us or breaks us. Whether or not we realize in time that there's no way we can catch you, not until we get better, until we get lucky. How does that make you feel, to know that you're that important to us?"
He mulled it over a second, before saying "Pretty special, actually."
"I'm glad I could shore up your ego. And I know its a damn big one. But your ego wouldn't have dragged you here. Your brain says where you'll go, and this is one of the worst planets to go to for armed robbery. The police are mercenaries for hire and deal with the likes of your on a regular basis. I know these types. Those four walked because they thought I was going to beat you two into a bloody pulp. But you came here anyways. And that means you have a reason to come here. What was that reason?"
Silence pervades the room.
"I bet you know, too," I said, looking at Angelina. "I bet you knew why those cops left, too. The profiles were never very clear with you. I think one treated you as little more than a walking hostage suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, forced into helping him until you loved him."
She gritted her teeth at that.
"Blatant lies!" shouted the diGriz behind me.
"I know. You're both a pair of crooks. You're the leader, for certain, but you've got a wife with plenty of crooked brains in her head. You're perfect matches for each other. God only knows how you found each other, but I know this much. Once you two found each other, you went legitimate. You two work for someone in the Federation. And you were on a mission. One the boys upstairs don't know about, and I fucked it up, didn't I? That's why I'm not getting paid."
"To a certain extent, yes," said a man smoking a cigar.
- White Haven
- Sith Acolyte
- Posts: 6360
- Joined: 2004-05-17 03:14pm
- Location: The North Remembers, When It Can Be Bothered
You know, reading Stainless Steel Whatnot after all this time actually brings to mind a comparison between Vlad, from the first Max Payne (not the second, he wasn't half the character then), and James...they both just so clearly have fun occupying their respective criminal niches.
Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
Out of Context Theatre, this week starring Darth Nostril.
-'If you really want to fuck with these idiots tell them that there is a vaccine for chemtrails.'
Fiction!: The Final War (Bolo/Lovecraft) (Ch 7 9/15/11), Living (D&D, Complete)
- Singular Quartet
- Sith Marauder
- Posts: 3896
- Joined: 2002-07-04 05:33pm
- Location: This is sky. It is made of FUCKING and LIMIT.
Sadly, I have not had the chance to play Max Payne, although I have heard it was good.
Just about finished with all the talky bits. There'll be one more explaining everything at some point, then everything else should be madness inducing violence.
Metroid-Rat 03
Being strip-searched is one of the most embarassing things that a human being can ever be subjected to. Being strip-searched in front of your own wife is directly above that. Above this, is her being searched at the same time. At the top of this list, however, is all of this happening on a public street surrounded by some fifty armed and armored police officers while a power-armored bounty hunter watches on with a fighter-grade plasma cannon for an arm.
I was still wondering what, let alone who, he was.
They seperated me from the love of my life when they took us back, but at least they had the decency to clothe us first. On the way to the station, the officer across from me read me my charges, tacking on public indecency at the end. We shared a few words after that, I compared his lineage to my last stop in a restroom, he made several mentions of my mother, I explained why he didn't know his own father, and then he showed me, in very close detail, the butt of his rifle.
I decided then was a good time to be quiet.
Hammer, as I had come to call him, landed at the station's heliport as we were hauled inside. Our fingerprint gloves stripped from us, our real ones were taken and scrapings of the inside of our mouth were collected for DNA testing. Both pinged back positive on our identities. We were processed, embarassed, and locked in a pair of cells across form each other, a quartet of guards watching our every move, hoping we would make a stupid move so they could beat us unconcious.
Then Hammer walked into view, looking us both over through his cyclopian green visor. I was trying to think of a few barbs to sling when Angelina beat me to the punch. Then Hammer did something that threw me through a loop.
"Stuck here," Hammer said, in the cold contralto of a woman scorned. "Just like you." That threw me for a loop, but I had to stay on my feet, metaphorically speaking, so I returned fire. It splashed across her armor like water, and she gave a bit of superheated plasma in return, leading me down into the depths of her crushing despair. I felt for this girl, whoever she was, trapped on this desolate hive of scum and villany, but she had decided it was our fault.
Her reasons were damn good, and I swore I could smell my pants light on fire from me giving such a blatant lie, even though I knew it was the truth. Then I realized that wasn't my pants on fire, as the smell of plastics is never a pleasent smell, and this, this was a fine smell that I recognized.
I smiled when I heard the voice that came with it, before I realized what it said.
"To a certain extent, yes," said my boss. "I am responsible for you not getting paid."
She then did something I have wanted to do on a regular basis, and pointed her anti-ship cannon at my boss.
"Put that cannon away."
The tip opened, and I could see a rocket sticking from the end, the faint whine of capacitors filling the air. Inskipp, being the unflappable bastard he was, ignored it.
"I am not, however, the one who said you weren't getting paid."
"No, I imagine you weren't."
"If you would take these two delinquients, I'm taking them into Special Corps custody so they don't escape. If you would help escort them off planet, I can get you your bounty."
We were marched upstairs by our curious captor, and after Inskipp showed the desk sergeants suitable documents, we were marched out of the building into an entirely different armored car.
"I think you're just annoyed to have been outsmarted by another woman," said my darling, endearing wife.
"I am not annoyed! I fully recognize the equality of the sexes!"
"Well don't get any ideas. You don't even know if she's human," replied Angelina.
"She is, for the most part. Her name is Samus Aran, and she's one of the Federation's foremost bounty hunters and mercenaries."
"We hire them?"
"We hired you, diGriz."
I clutched my chest. "A stab at my heart! How could you be so cruel to me! Now, I've heard of a fair number of bounty hunters in my time, but I've never heard of the Federation's supposed best."
"That's because she doesn't deal with humans. She deals largely with alien menaces to humanity. She runs the occasional capture of a criminal, but only because they happen to be close by. Mostly she works against Space Pirates."
"Ah. Well then, that makes a bit of sense. She mentioned pirates murdering her parents. She meant our Space Pirates, didn't she?"
"Your getting smarter in your old age. They wiped out a mining colony, and a delegation of an alien race were in the area and took her under their wing. Literally, in this case. They evolved from birds. They gave her genetic enhancements and her power suit. She's been running a one woman genocide campaign since on the Federation's tab."
"Not something I like," I admitted. I already had a woman with homocidal tendencies in my life. I didn't need another murderous matron, nor one bent on exterminating an entire race.
"I know, but she has knowledge and skills that we need, and I can't release you back out into the wild without arising suspicions."
I heard the screech of brakes, and the windows flashed white. A roar, the kind that reverberated in your chest and rattled your teeth, crushed through the armored car. It was joined by a second, and then as all three of us looked out the forward window, bombs began exploding around us.
Just about finished with all the talky bits. There'll be one more explaining everything at some point, then everything else should be madness inducing violence.
Metroid-Rat 03
Being strip-searched is one of the most embarassing things that a human being can ever be subjected to. Being strip-searched in front of your own wife is directly above that. Above this, is her being searched at the same time. At the top of this list, however, is all of this happening on a public street surrounded by some fifty armed and armored police officers while a power-armored bounty hunter watches on with a fighter-grade plasma cannon for an arm.
I was still wondering what, let alone who, he was.
They seperated me from the love of my life when they took us back, but at least they had the decency to clothe us first. On the way to the station, the officer across from me read me my charges, tacking on public indecency at the end. We shared a few words after that, I compared his lineage to my last stop in a restroom, he made several mentions of my mother, I explained why he didn't know his own father, and then he showed me, in very close detail, the butt of his rifle.
I decided then was a good time to be quiet.
Hammer, as I had come to call him, landed at the station's heliport as we were hauled inside. Our fingerprint gloves stripped from us, our real ones were taken and scrapings of the inside of our mouth were collected for DNA testing. Both pinged back positive on our identities. We were processed, embarassed, and locked in a pair of cells across form each other, a quartet of guards watching our every move, hoping we would make a stupid move so they could beat us unconcious.
Then Hammer walked into view, looking us both over through his cyclopian green visor. I was trying to think of a few barbs to sling when Angelina beat me to the punch. Then Hammer did something that threw me through a loop.
"Stuck here," Hammer said, in the cold contralto of a woman scorned. "Just like you." That threw me for a loop, but I had to stay on my feet, metaphorically speaking, so I returned fire. It splashed across her armor like water, and she gave a bit of superheated plasma in return, leading me down into the depths of her crushing despair. I felt for this girl, whoever she was, trapped on this desolate hive of scum and villany, but she had decided it was our fault.
Her reasons were damn good, and I swore I could smell my pants light on fire from me giving such a blatant lie, even though I knew it was the truth. Then I realized that wasn't my pants on fire, as the smell of plastics is never a pleasent smell, and this, this was a fine smell that I recognized.
I smiled when I heard the voice that came with it, before I realized what it said.
"To a certain extent, yes," said my boss. "I am responsible for you not getting paid."
She then did something I have wanted to do on a regular basis, and pointed her anti-ship cannon at my boss.
"Put that cannon away."
The tip opened, and I could see a rocket sticking from the end, the faint whine of capacitors filling the air. Inskipp, being the unflappable bastard he was, ignored it.
"I am not, however, the one who said you weren't getting paid."
"No, I imagine you weren't."
"If you would take these two delinquients, I'm taking them into Special Corps custody so they don't escape. If you would help escort them off planet, I can get you your bounty."
We were marched upstairs by our curious captor, and after Inskipp showed the desk sergeants suitable documents, we were marched out of the building into an entirely different armored car.
"I think you're just annoyed to have been outsmarted by another woman," said my darling, endearing wife.
"I am not annoyed! I fully recognize the equality of the sexes!"
"Well don't get any ideas. You don't even know if she's human," replied Angelina.
"She is, for the most part. Her name is Samus Aran, and she's one of the Federation's foremost bounty hunters and mercenaries."
"We hire them?"
"We hired you, diGriz."
I clutched my chest. "A stab at my heart! How could you be so cruel to me! Now, I've heard of a fair number of bounty hunters in my time, but I've never heard of the Federation's supposed best."
"That's because she doesn't deal with humans. She deals largely with alien menaces to humanity. She runs the occasional capture of a criminal, but only because they happen to be close by. Mostly she works against Space Pirates."
"Ah. Well then, that makes a bit of sense. She mentioned pirates murdering her parents. She meant our Space Pirates, didn't she?"
"Your getting smarter in your old age. They wiped out a mining colony, and a delegation of an alien race were in the area and took her under their wing. Literally, in this case. They evolved from birds. They gave her genetic enhancements and her power suit. She's been running a one woman genocide campaign since on the Federation's tab."
"Not something I like," I admitted. I already had a woman with homocidal tendencies in my life. I didn't need another murderous matron, nor one bent on exterminating an entire race.
"I know, but she has knowledge and skills that we need, and I can't release you back out into the wild without arising suspicions."
I heard the screech of brakes, and the windows flashed white. A roar, the kind that reverberated in your chest and rattled your teeth, crushed through the armored car. It was joined by a second, and then as all three of us looked out the forward window, bombs began exploding around us.