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Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Sat Mar 01, 2014 7:25 am
by Admiral Breetai
Praeothmin wrote:Glad you liked it...
Was busy this week (in Japan on a business trip), but should get back to it soon...
boy that's one brutal flight... safe journey home

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Fri May 30, 2014 10:16 pm
by Praeothmin
Finally, after a loooooooonnnnnnnnngggg hiatus, a new update...
Hope you guys like it, it's a bit darker than usual...

Chapter 90

They had left Carth in an abandoned apartment they had found with the help of the young gang member, named Toro, as the republic soldier was in no shape to fight in James eyes.
His wounds, while not life threatening, were still severe enough that he would be more a hindrance than an asset, in the big human’s opinion.
After tending to the man’s wounds, and making sure he would be able to defend himself if need be, they moved out of the old tenement, its decrepit façade matching the run-down interior of the building.
The humans and aliens residing in the building represented the poorer caste of Tarisien residents, unable to live in the upper levels where only the richer or more connected people could.

“Just like home!” Mused the big MACO leader, the squalid building reminding him of the slums he had grown in as a boy, where money was scarce and you had to make do with the little amount you had.

The people he saw had the same determined look he’d seen back home, the look of someone who was used to hardships and was willing to do what it took to survive.
This determination was paired with a quiet acceptation of their situation, for having known misery all their lives had eroded any self-worth these people could have had, instilling in them a sense that this was what they deserved, and that there was no reason to hope for more.
This sad resignation had always weighed heavily on James’s heart when he saw it, as he himself had always refused to accept his fate growing up.
He’d always believed he could be more than what he was, that he could have more, and always strived to achieve his dreams of improving his neighbourhood through his actions.
He’d stolen many datachips as a boy, striving to learn as much as possible, certain that somehow knowledge would be his salvation.
He had shared the money he made with his family and friends, all so that they could have more than their social station would allow them to have.
As soon as he had been old enough, he had joined the military, as he knew it paid well, and he could once more help improve his family’s and friend’s lives by sharing his wealth.
Having no Social Identification Number, or SIN, he could not be part of the standard military structure, and so was accepted as a shadow operative, for even the military needed assets akin to what the populace called Shadowrunners.
And even though a soldier’s salary wasn’t much by high society’s standards, it was a King’s ransom when compared to the meager earnings of his mother, a waitress, and his father, a car mechanic specializing in brakes and suspensions.
He knew the skills he would eventually acquire would also be highly useful in the run-down neighbourhood he lived in, for a man who knew how to defend himself, a man who could be perceived as a predator, was less likely to become prey.
Had it not been for the treachery of his commanding officer, James could have been a high-ranking officer within the Shadow teams, with a very comfortable lifestyle that would have allowed for his family to live well-off for the rest of their lives.
But this was not to be, he had understood as soon as his men had started dying around him.
He could not truly be sad, however, as his work in the urban shadows over the years had allowed him to amass a hefty sum of nuyen, and his family were living well enough with what he gave them, his parents even being able to stop working full-time, only taking on part-time jobs now and enjoying their semi-retired way of life.
Thinking of his family brought a lump in his throat, for he had not seen them in months, usually visiting them every week when he could to have lunch with them.
Now, having been away for so long, without any way of contacting them, he knew his parents, his mother in particular, would be worried sick for her son.
She knew he was capable of taking care of himself, but knew also how dangerous his chosen profession was, and let him know every time they had lunch how worried his continued work made her.
She had tried many times over to convince him to quit, arguing justly enough that he had enough money saved up to find low-paying job with an equally low-danger factor, and that he could still live comfortably for the rest of a life that would be much longer with a safer job.
He had stopped arguing the point with her a long time ago, knowing deep down she was right, but that as long as his superior officers, the men who were responsible for his unit’s death, had not all been taken down, he would find no peace, would not be able to live on knowing justice had not been brought to these men.
Over his long Shadowrunning career, he had been able to take down a few of his corrupt military commanders, but a few still remained, powerful men at the head of powerful organizations, men who could not be taken down so easily.
Men who would require more years of planning from James before they could be taken down.

A small noise, like an object grating against the ground as it was being cautiously lifted off it, brought him out of his reverie.
He considered warning the kid not to act foolishly, but then decided against it.
A physical demonstration was in order, for it had seemed the youth had not fully understood what had transpired earlier, or how outclassed he was in a confrontation against the massive human.
He turned as he heard the rustling of clothing, his right hand coming up to intercept a metallic pipe coming down towards his head.
He timed his interception well, the pipe stopping a mere centimeter from his face.
The young ganger’s mouth dropped open, as his arms were straining to push the pipe lower with absolutely no success.
Without a word, the ganger let go of his improvised weapon and took a step back.
Swallowing hard, he was obviously expecting the big human to retaliate in kind, fearing how much damage his massive opponent’s strength could do to him, finally fully understanding that he wasn’t facing anything human, doubting any humanoid he knew of could even approach this man in strength.
But the expected attack never came.
James, a wide grin on his face, simply grabbed the other end of the pipe with his free hand, and flexing his massive muscles, not even trying for a better grip, for better leverage, bent the inch-wide pipe as if it was cheap aluminum, bringing both ends so close to one another only his hands kept them from touching.
His only warning to the young man was a slight shaking of his head, his message as clear as the light of day to the young ganger.
The youth replied shakily with a slight nod, and then resumed walking in the direction of the Black Vulkar’s hideout.
James was certain the young one would behave himself from that moment on, his fear of the big man firmly cemented in his mind, as the MACO leader could see when analyzing the ganger’s body movements.

As they approached the base, before they were in view, James had asked the young man to put some manacles on him, binding his hands together at the back of his body.
He knew he would appear a lot less threatening that way, his apparent helplessness minimizing the visual impact his great frame would have.
While James knew he could bring his hands in front very quickly and fight well even with bound hands, he had preferred, not knowing how many opponents he would be facing, to maximize his chances of success by altering the manacles he was now using.
The manacles had been doctored by James back at their temporary hideout, the bracelets filed from the inside of the binding rings so the cuts would not be visible to casual observers.
Confident in his capabilities, even with his hands in apparent immobilization, he let the young ganger deprive him of his weapons, as if the massive human truly was his captive.
He lowered his head to appear submissive and even thought of dragging his feet a little, trying to show physical weakness as well, all in the hopes he would truly seem completely unthreatening, and thus would be underestimated by any possible opponents.

They reached the Balck Vulkar base, and the size of the entrance alone made James doubt his plan.
The metallic double doors were close to 4 meters high and each door being just as wide, with what were clearly four automated gun turrets on the ground, all pointed at the narrow walkway leading to the doors, essentially covering the only apparent access point of the base.
They were also well-armored, to the point that James doubted any of his weapons would damage them in a firefight.
So it was no surprise to James that the base only had two living guards at the doors, the four turrets offering all the firepower one would need in case of an attack by enemy forces.
The guards were of a race not yet encountered by James on the planet.
They were reptilian humanoids, like the big gang leader James had beaten, but they weren’t as fierce looking, or as tall.
They were both slightly over 6 feet tall, had leathery skin, cold black obsidian eyes covered by a thin transparent pellicle, a series of forehead ridges and small facial horns surrounding their eyes and on the chin.
Their noses were covered with a movable flap of skin and a semi-permeable membrane as well.
James believed this race of aliens were most likely from a desert world where their protective membranes would allow them to see and breathe well even in sand-storms, their scaly skin offering great protection against the sun.
Both guards were wearing light armor and a dark patch the big human thought were identifying them as members of the Black Vulkars.

The two alien guards watched the approaching duo, suspicion evident on their faces, their bodies displaying a readiness for action should the need arise.
Hanging his head even lower, James let the young ganger lead him to the guards.

“What you want, Toro?” One guard brusquely asked the young man, its voice slithery in its inflections.

“I… ah… want to… ah… give… I mean sell… ah… this prisoner to Brejik.” The young gang member stammered to the guard.

James swore silently, hoping the kid would not blow his cover too early and force him to fight his way inside, past the guards and the turrets.
While the guards did not worry him, the turrets were another matter entirely.

“Why you so scared?” The guard asked him.
“An’ where is you Boss-man Tho’Ooms?” Asked the second guard.

“Well… ah… we was… ah… going after this guy, ‘cause… ah… the Sith were after him as he had… ah… attacked some of their patrols, and we tried to… ah… catch him, ‘cause Tho’Ooms figured… ah… he’d make a fine fighter for the pits.” He said, spinning his story with growing confidence.
“And we thought we had him, and Tho’Ooms was about to catch him, and… ah… he ambushed us.
He had placed an explosive in our pursuit path, and he blew it up when the first of our group passed by.” Toro continued, his imagination running at full speed now.
“Then he jumped on the rest of the group and he beat them all.
You should’a seen him, his fists was flying all over the place and his feet was barely ever on the ground.
It was amazing, yet scary at the same time.
He beat them all up before they could react.” He was going on, picking up steam and moving forward with the story, now fully entranced in his own words, not seeing the gaping hole he had just dug in his story.
“I barely had the time to do somethin’, shooting him down before he got me too.” He finished with a proud grin.

The guards had been fooled by the youth, James could see, up until that very last sentence.
Suspicion now came back hard, the guards narrowing their eyes at Toro as they took a menacing step forward.
James prepared himself, tensing his muscles, ready to move at the first sign of trouble.

“If big ooman so fasssst and powerful, how you beat him?” Asked the first guard menacingly.

Toro paled and averted his eyes, aware he had blundered, but then took on a sheepish look as he turned back towards the threatening guards, and said:
“I… ah… I was hiding after the initial explosion.” He told the guards weakly.
“I was afraid of him, and so made my way ‘round him, and shot him in the back once he was done beating up my crew.” He added.
“I figured… well, I figured…” He started hesitantly.

“You figure to ‘ave all the Credits to yousself, eh ooman?” The lead guard said dangerously.

“Well… Yeah!” Was all Toro answered.

After a few tensed seconds, the guards erupted in laughter, to the relief of the young gang member, and to James’s as well, who was hard at work thinking of a new plan to infiltrate the facility.
The two reptilian humanoids let them in, telling the young human that Mrekthet, Brejik’s first lieutenant, would be the one negotiating for their new pit fighter’s price.

They went through the large double doors of the base, which opened in a corridor slightly larger and taller than the double doors were.
The corridor was close to 30 meters long, littered with packing crates of all kinds, and ended at a smaller set of double doors, 2 meters high with each panel being just as wide.
There were two aliens packing and unpacking crates in the corridor, and a guard at the other double doors.
The place was built like a fortress, it seemed to James, and just as well guarded.
He knew he would need hit hard and fast, without any mercy, if he was going to succeed in getting out of there alive, and with the gang’s prisoner, the Jedi Bastila.
He regretted not being able to show too much mercy to his unknowing opponents in the upcoming fight, but if half the stories he had heard about the gang from Toro were true, each and every member of the Black Vulkars deserved whatever punishment he would lay upon them.
Contrary to the Hidden Beks -the Black Vulkars’s main rivals on the lower levels- who made their money through smuggling, selling contraband merchandises, and gambling, the Vulkars were known for the thuggish demeanor of their members.
They were led by Brejik, a former member of the Hidden Beks who defected to the Black Vulkars in frustration and anger after Gadon Thek, his adopted father, had not stepped down and offered him leadership of the Hidden Beks after becoming blind.
Through the use of coercion, threats of force, and pure iron will, Brejik molded the group of petty thugs into a group of zealots, mobilizing them for a brutal street war against the Hidden Beks.
They dealt in anything illegal: thefts, coercion, kidnapping, the manufacturing and selling of drugs, and even in murder.
James despised them and their leader, and felt some vindication in what was to come.

The guard at the end of the corridor opened the smaller double doors and let them in, the doors leading to a great hall lined with doors on either side.
Inside that hall a group of aliens and men waited for them.
There were seven members, three humans and four aliens, two of them looking like the merchant in the upper city, with two long tentacles coming out of their heads and two aliens James had learned were called Rodians.
All were heavily armed, with an air of danger surrounding them.
A Caucasian man stepped forward, the meanest looking of the gang, a Heavy Blaster hanging at his left hip in a quick-draw holster and what looked like a Vibro-knife in a cross-draw sheath on his right hip.
He was tall, almost as tall as James, with broad shoulders and a powerful looking body, which moved like a predator advancing towards his prey.
The man had pockmarked cheeks, a square jaw, deep brown intelligent eyes and a mouth that seemed to ignore how to smile.
His head was shaven, but he kept a small goatee that was neatly trimmed.

“I heard you had something to sell me, Toro.” The man told the young ganger, setting his hard stare on the kid.
“A… fighter, for Brejik’s pits, from what I was told.”

Toro fidgeted under the stare, obviously unnerved by the man.
James was certain the man was dangerous, for he would not be the right hand man of a gang leader if he wasn’t.
And he was certain that the man was observing him even though his gaze had never moved from the young man.
The gang members reveled in Toro’s uneasiness, some even daring to let out laughs, muffled they may be.

“Tell me, young man, how did you come in to such an… acquisition?” The man asked slowly, menacingly.

The young ganger repeated the story of his encounter of the big MACO leader, and even though he now had the full story in head, having told it once, he still stammered when telling it to Mrekthet.
The gang’s second in command let silence greet the story for what were in Toro’s eyes a few nerve-staggering moments, before barely lifting the right corner of his mouth in what looked like a predatory smile.

“So you saw a chance to improve your finances and social standing by getting rid of your team.” He told the young man, who was now sweating.
“And you brought this man here for you figured anyone who could take out your team as he did would fetch quite a price for people in search of fighters, did you not?” He asked.

Toro nodded slightly, his eyes now locked on the floor as if the dirty surface held something of great interest to him.

“I’ll give you 500 Credits for this man.” The dangerous man told the young ganger.

Toro was about to accept, but then, to James’s surprise, shot back:
“1500 Credits! This man is better than anyone you ever had.
I’ve bet on enough of your matches to know.” He added, now almost looking Mrekthet in the eyes.

James admired his courage, and hoped the gang members didn’t make him pay for his boldness.
A few moments of silence passed before Mrekthet spoke again, his voice shaking the young ganger.

“1000 Credits!” Was all the Vulkars’ second in command said, and then became silent again.
No other words were needed, James understood, for the tone of voice he’d used to make the counter-offer contained enough menace that the youth didn’t dare counter the offer with another.
He simply nodded, and waited for the gang’s Lieutenant to produce a Credi-Stick, adjust the amount of money on it and hand it to the young ganger.
As Toro extended his arms to give James’s weapons to Mrekthet, the MACO leader exploded into motion, snapping his doctored manacles in half.
He kicked the gang’s Lieutenant hard in the stomach, bending the man over as his body was lifted by the kick, and then, turning towards the other Vulkars, he punched one in the face with enough force to crack the tentacle alien’s skull while sending his left hand’s edge into another’s throat.
He picked a Rodian of the floor and threw him at the two gangers he had seen sporting Blasters with all his might, laying all three down in a jumble of appendices.
As they struggled to recover from the attack, James turned to the last Vulkar, the second Rodian, who had successfully unsheated a Vibro-knife, as the alien’s free left hand was going towards what looked like a communicator.
Weary of the knife, the big human swiped the alien’s legs from under him with such force he heard lignaments tear and the alien yelped in pain as he went down.
A second kick to the head knocked him out, and so the MACO leader turned back towards the jumble of Vulkars still on the ground, one of whom had extricated his Blaster from the body pile, and he was getting a bead on James.
He never had a chance to fire though, for James jumped on the bodies piled on the floor, forcing groans out of the poor gangers as they received close to three hundred pounds of solid muscles on them, and pulled the weapon out of the alien’s grasp.
Using the butt of the weapon, he laid them low with well placed blows, and when they were all down and out, he pointed the appropriated Blaster at Toro, who stood in awe, arms still fully extended, not having moved an inch.
Seeing the young man was no threat, James calmly stood, and retrieved his equipment from the extended arms.
The gang’s second in command was still down on the ground, gasping for air and retching at the same time.
James relieved all the gangers from their weapons and communicators, which he all smashed, except for one he kept so he would be able to know if an alarm were to be suddenly activated.
Using straps and belts and some manacles the gang members had, he tied them all up and gagged them, Toro still unmoving, too awed to do anything other than to stare at the MACO leader’s victims.

James approached Mrekthet and got on one knee in front of him.

“Where is the woman you guys were brought recently?” He asked the man, holding his hair withhis right hand so they would be face to face.

The Lieutenant opened his mouth as if to spit in the MACO leader’s face, but a hard slap from his left hand robbed him of that notion, the gang member spitting blood on the floor instead.

“Don’t push me, you human piece of filth.” He told the man menacingly.
“I will not hesitate to break all of your fingers one by one if I have to, and if fingers don’t do the trick, I’ll find something else to break.” He finished with a stare that promised nothing but suffering to the ganger.

James saw the man warring internally, measuring his chances, the possible replies and their impact onhis well-being.
Self-preservation finally won out, as it usually did with thugs like Mrekthet, their own well-being counting much more than any feeling of belonging to a group, any loyalty towards its members.

“Seconth corridor to tha lefth.” He answered with a lisp, the result of a split lip caused by James’s slap.
“Door 315B.” He added.

James went around the man, who fidgeted, wondering what the giant human would do, and he choked him, letting go when he was certain the Lieutenant was unconscious.
Making sure he wasn’t dead, bound his hands and he gagged him, making sure he could still breathe well.
He stood, and looked at the young man still frozen in place.
Walking around Toro, he grabbed him in a choke hold, the young man trying futilely to break the iron hold he was in as soon as he had understood what was happening.
James couldn’t let him go, for fear he would bring them to Carth, and he didn’t want to leave him here unbound in case other gang members found him there and made him pay for what had happened the the others.
He was hoping the young man’s story about being a coward and too scared to act in the fight against his own group would allow the Vulkars to let his inaction pass as cowardice once more, preventing them from passing their anger and frustration on him.
After having bound the young man, he gave him a quick punch in the face, strong enough to split the young man’s lip, not stong enough to do any permanent damage.
He hoped it would add to the young one’s credibility as a victim of the big human like the others.

He quickly looked around for some place to hide all the bodies, so that if anyone came in the main hall, they would perhaps wonder why no one was there, but they would most likely look for them guards a bit before sounding the alarm.
Using Mrekthet’s card-key, he opened the first door he saw, and was happy to see it was the guard post, with active security monitors and a desk.
He was happy to see no one was inside, and seeing no other door to the room, he concluded there would be no one alerted to what had transpired.
He looked at the controls, and not being able to quickly discern which one would erase the footage of the last minutes, he opened a panel in the security console and ripped out a large bundle of wires.
He piled the bodies in the room, and then, as he was about to exit, using gloves to isolate his hand, he plunged a Vibro-knife in the sliding door’s control panel, shorting it out as it was about to close.
He stepped outside quickly as the panel slid into place behind him.
The Black Vulkars were now deprived of their security room, and would not be able to free their comrades in a timely manner.

He went to the corridor Mrekthet had indicated, carefully peering around every bend, all his senses fully alert so he could detect any movement, any noise that could warn him of a possible incoming danger.
Arriving at the door marked 315B, he heard some grownling coming from the inside, angry growls, yet plaintive at the same time, and he immediately thought of a Black Bear from Earth being tortured behind the door.
Hoping the growls would cover any noise he made, knowing it would not cover Blaster fire, he took oen of the pilfered Vibro-knives from his belt, and used the Vulkars’s second in command card-key to unlock the door.
He opened it slowly, peering around it to detect any possible enemy in hiding.
The door opened on a corridor, lined will what could only be cell doors.
Each door was full, except for a small opening akin a window, approximately six inches by twelve inches, covered with bars, one inch thick and two inches apart.
He counted five doors per side, for a total of ten cells.
One of the doors was opened, and he heard struggling sounds coming from that cell, intermixed with muffled cries James attributed to a female.
The growls were coming from the cell in front of the open door, and the MACO leader could see two large furry hands grasping the bars and trying futilely to tear them apart.
The growls intensified as a high-pitched cry for help erupted, followed by guttural laughter.
James knew then what was happening, and his heart became icy cold.
He was running now, all thoughts of stealth and caution forgotten, all worries about being discovered swept out of his mind, replaced by a fury he had never felt before.
He knew he had made some noise, as the growls had momentarily stopped, and a head was slowly coming out of the cell to look in the corridor.
The guard’s look of surprise at the hilt of a Vibro-knife protruding from its forehead was short lived, for its body began its rapid descent to the floor and into death as the blurry, fast moving MACO leader reached the cell.
He saw three guards inside, one his back to James, pants down on the floor, and leaning over a bed and what the big human knew was a female form.
A second guard was holding a Vibro-knife he’d used to cut the female’s clothing to ribbons, his head turned towards James, surprise on his face.
The third guard was standing next to the guard with the knife, clearly waiting his turn, his hands clasped in gleeful appreciation of what was to come.
James let his reflexes slow down to normal speeds, to allow the guards to clearly view their doom before it engulfed them.
The knife wielding guard attacked, a fast straight forward thrust aimed at James stomach, which the giant man deflected and redirected in the waiting guard’s neck.
He broke the knife-wielding guard’s arm, and then grabbed his head in both massive hands, and simply twisted, breaking the guard’s neck like a twig, his mind barely registering the sobs and the fact the growling had receded.
He turned to the last guard, the alien trying to pull his pants back up in a panicked frenzy.
The mountain of range that was James never gave him the chance, his massive right hand pushing the guard hard into the cell wall, his left hand snapping out and grabbing the alien’s crotch, squeezing as hard as he could.
His right arm fully extended with all his ungodly might, smashing the guard’s back in the wall again, cracking ribs, as his left pulled, tearing soft tissue apart, mangling the guard’s genitals beyond repair.
He wasn’t done though, rage still coursing through him, as he grabbed the miewling man’s head in his bloody hands, and tightened his grip, slowly increasing the vice-like pressure he was putting on the man’s head, oblivious to the guard’s punches and feeble kicks, until the alien’s skull could no longer support the pressure and imploded, splashing brain matter and gore everywhere.
Whiping his hands clean on the dead guard’s clothing, still in a trance, James unclothed the guard with the broken neck, and helped the crying girl -for he could see even if she was a tentacle-headed alien that she was young- clothe herself.
She grabbed him with strength borne of desperation, and cried, the furred creature in the other cell growling in anguish.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2014 12:35 pm
by sonofccn
Bit darker yes, but James " darn did right" at the end as I'm sure Jackson would say. Good update.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 2:13 pm
by Praeothmin
Short update, just to show I am indeed back at writing...

Chapter 91

He moved as a shadow, going from doorway to doorway with barely a sound, the light rustling of his clothing lost amidst the numerous mechanical and electronic sounds of the vessel’s corridors.
His presence felt as no more than a ghost, he stayed on the trail of the two guards that were transferring a prisoner in cell block 1138, where he had learned they were keeping his targets.
Tailing the two guards since they had gotten off the Sith shuttle with their last of the prisoners from the captured ship, his presence ignored by all, even by the internal sensors as his equipment had allowed him to fool them into thinking he was a normal presence.
Hiding in dark recesses of the Interdictor cruiser, with rats and other rodents giving him a wide berth -wanting nothing to do with such a predator- he had been biding his time, observing and gathering information about the newly arrived prisoners on the Sith vessel.
As the guards arrived at the cell block, their prisoners in tow, the doors slid open and the group entered the reception area.
He examined his surroundings rapidly in order to find a more subtle entry point, one that would allow him to go in unnoticed up to the prisoner cells to his objective.

***********************************************************
Feth it all, the armored guard thought, I’ll be happy when this prisoner transfer is over and I can get back to my post.
He had been pulled off guard duty at the shuttle bay when the strange ship had been intercepted, and the Captain had reported prisoners were being brought aboard.
Cassius Throl was not a true Sith believer, but like many other conscripts of the Sith army, he felt a steady pay and food on the table was better than a Blaster bolt in the back, as was the Sith way.
This meant he had been more than willing to convert to Sith beliefs and way of life, hoping that he would be stationed away from the action.
He had been a happy man indeed when he found himself assigned to the Ragnarock, a Sith Interdictor patrolling the outer sectors of the Sith Empire in order to prevent any unknown assailants an opportunity to attack at the back of the Sith fleet.
So when Captain Falta’s report came in about an unknown ship -of configurations never encountered before- that had appeared on scanners around one of the most remote planets, Cassius prayed to the Sith lords of the past, hoping with all his heart the ship wasn’t part of an invading force coming in at the back of the Empire.
While there were ships patrolling this area, he doubted the task force of 3 Interdictor cruisers and 5 smaller corvettes would be enough to repel any serious enemy force.
Even after they had contacted and commandeered the unknown ship without any incident, Cassius still felt as if they were not safe from a surprise attack, a feeling he had not been able to shake off.
These people are too calm after being arrested by the Sith.
It’s as if they don’t know who they are facing, he thought, or as if they expect to be rescued.
The Sith soldier knew this was a possibility, although a slim one, since the fleet was now actively monitoring the Hyperspace routes coming in the sector to present another surprise appearance by another ship.
As he was entering the cell block’s reception area, he shuddered, feeling pinpricks on the nape of his neck, as if someone was observing him.
He quickly looked around the corridor he and his partner had just been through, but saw nothing but the polished walls and trailing coolant and power pipes that created pools of shadows.
He was peering in those pools of shadow, still seeing nothing, as he passed the doorway and entered the vestibule, still shuddering.
I’m not made for this, he thought for the umpteenth time.

*****************************************************************

The man standing in the biggest pool of shadows smiled, for even with his size, the guard had not been able to see, of that he was sure, as his smile would have made the Sith grab at his weapon in panic and shoot him on the spot.
His smile was also born of the entry point he had found.
The pipes creating the shadows he was standing in also created small openings in the connecting walls between the cell block and the service corridors, openings a normal man of his size could never hope to go through.
But this bipedal predator was anything but ordinary, and he was soon dislocating his joints and re-popping them into place as he made his way through the pipes, gritting his teeth to stave off the immense pain he felt.
Crawling slowly towards his goal, he finally reached the cell block’s reception area.
He found a niche where he could stay hidden and unmoving for hours if necessary, right above the reception’s security console.
Listening intensely to all that was said, knowing every bit of information could be useful, he also studied the security panel where all the occupied cells were indicated.
He smiled at the skittish guard who voiced his fears of an incoming attack fleet, and almost laughed out loud at the fearful reassurance of another saying that it would be impossible with the fleet monitoring all traffic in and out of the system, apparently not believing what he was saying.
As he spotted the cell with the most warnings on it, assuming it to be his target’s, he reconsidered his plan of action.
He had originally thought to remain hidden, and bide his time before he did anything, but then, seeing the nervousness that was prevalent among a lot of the Sith vessel’s occupants, he decided to stir the pot and bring those feelings bubbling up to the surface to erupt in a magnificent torrent of terror.
He found the power coupling that fed the cell block’s reception area, and took it out.
As darkness and surprise enveloped the room, he dropped in, silent as death.
“You’re not afraid of the Dark, are you?” he asked in a throaty voice.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 5:03 pm
by sonofccn
“You’re not afraid of the Dark, are you?” he asked in a throaty voice.
Heh. They will be. :)

A quick question, and I apologize for my ignorance, did the Musashi get captured and I forget?

Anyway great to see you back and writing.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 6:41 pm
by Praeothmin
You know, just because the story concentrated on James doesn't mean nothing else happened... :)

You didn't forget, it had not been written yet...
It will be though, and sooner than later... :)

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2015 3:34 pm
by Praeothmin
Ok, after many broken promises, many lazy ass excuses and still no updates on my part, here it is...

I've re-written some parts of the posted portion of Chapter 91, so you nee to re-read it in order for it to make sense...

So here is Chapter 91, revisited:

Chapter 91


Thursday, August 2st, 2374, 11:43

He moved as a shadow, going from doorway to doorway with barely a sound, the light rustling of his clothing lost amidst the numerous mechanical and electronic sounds of the vessel’s corridors.

His presence felt as no more than a ghost, he stayed on the trail of the two guards that were transferring a prisoner in cell block 1138, where he had learned they were keeping his targets.

Tailing the two guards since they had gotten off the Sith shuttle with their last of the prisoners from the captured ship, his presence ignored by all, even by the internal sensors as his equipment had allowed him to fool them into thinking he was a normal presence.

Hiding in dark recesses of the Interdictor cruiser, with rats and other rodents giving him a wide berth -wanting nothing to do with such a predator- he had been biding his time, observing and gathering information about the newly arrived prisoners on the Sith vessel.

As the guards arrived at the cell block, their prisoners in tow, the doors slid open and the group entered the reception area.

He examined his surroundings rapidly in order to find a more subtle entry point, one that would allow him to go in unnoticed up to the prisoner cells to his objective.


***********************************************************

Feth it all, the armored guard thought, I’ll be happy when this prisoner transfer is over and I can get back to my post.

He had been pulled off guard duty at the shuttle bay when the strange ship had been intercepted, and the Captain had reported prisoners were being brought aboard.

Cassius Throl was not a true Sith believer, but like many other conscripts of the Sith army, he felt a steady pay and food on the table was better than a Blaster bolt in the back, as was the Sith way.

This meant he had been more than willing to convert to Sith beliefs and way of life, hoping that he would be stationed away from the action.

He had been a happy man indeed when he found himself assigned to the Ragnarock, a Sith Interdictor patrolling the outer sectors of the Sith Empire in order to prevent any unknown assailants an opportunity to attack at the back of the Sith fleet.

So when Captain Falta’s report came in about an unknown ship -of configurations never encountered before- that had appeared on scanners around one of the most remote planets, Cassius prayed to the Sith lords of the past, hoping with all his heart the ship wasn’t part of an invading force coming in at the back of the Empire.

While there were ships patrolling this area, he doubted the task force of 3 Interdictor cruisers and 5 smaller corvettes would be enough to repel any serious enemy force.

Even after they had contacted and commandeered the unknown ship without any incident, Cassius still felt as if they were not safe from a surprise attack, a feeling he had not been able to shake off.

Even with the strange ship’s Captain and First Officer locked up in the Cell Block where he was posted, he did not feel completely safe.

He also knew how some Sith guards reacted to females, especially attractive ones.

These people are too calm after being arrested by the Sith.

It’s as if they don’t know who they are facing, he thought, or as if they expect to be rescued.

The Sith soldier knew this was a possibility, although a slim one, since the fleet was now actively monitoring the Hyperspace routes coming in the sector to prevent another surprise appearance by another ship.

As he was entering the cell block’s reception area, he shuddered, feeling pinpricks on the nape of his neck, as if someone was observing him.

He quickly looked around the corridor he and his partner had just been through, but saw nothing but the polished walls and trailing coolant and power pipes that created pools of shadows.

He was peering in those pools of shadow, once more seeing nothing, as he passed the doorway and entered the vestibule, still shuddering.

I’m not made for this, he thought for the umpteenth time.


*****************************************************************


The man standing in the biggest pool of shadows smiled, for even with his size, the guard had not been able to see him, of that he was sure, as his smile would have made the Sith grab at his weapon in panic and shoot him on the spot.

His smile was also born of the entry point he had found.

The pipes creating the shadows he was standing in also created small openings in the connecting walls between the cell block and the service corridors, openings a normal man of his size could never hope to go through.

But this bipedal predator was anything but ordinary, and he was soon dislocating his joints and re-popping them into place as he made his way through the pipes, gritting his teeth to stave off the immense pain he felt.

Crawling slowly towards his goal, he finally reached the cell block’s reception area.

He found a niche where he could stay hidden and unmoving for hours if necessary, right above the reception’s security console.

Listening intensely to all that was said, knowing every bit of information could be useful, he also studied the security panels where all the occupied cells were indicated.

He smiled at the skittish guard who voiced his fears of an incoming attack fleet, and almost laughed out loud at the fearful reassurance of another saying that it would be impossible with the fleet monitoring all traffic in and out of the system, apparently not believing what he was saying.

As he spotted the cells with the most warnings on it, assuming it to be his targets’, he reconsidered his plan of action.

He had originally thought to remain hidden, and bide his time before he did anything, but then seeing the nervousness that was prevalent among a lot of the Sith vessel’s occupants, he decided to stir the pot and bring those feelings bubbling up to the surface to erupt in a magnificent torrent of terror.

He found the power coupling that fed the cell block’s reception area, and took it out.

As darkness and surprise enveloped the room, he dropped in, silent as death.

“You’re not afraid of the Dark, are you?” he asked in a throaty voice.


*********************************************************************


The guards were fully surprised and took a few seconds to activate their helmets’ thermographic capability.

The two guards were still trying to locate their weapons, as they did not appear on their visor, the weapons’ heat signature matching the prison’s electronic desks’.

The first guard was still looking for his weapon when he saw a large thermal signature coming at him.

He didn’t have time to react as the humanoid attacked, snapping a powerful punch directly in the man’s visor.

As the first guard was reeling from the attack, his cracked visor flickering on and off, Riddick turned to the other guard.

He saw the man had just grabbed his weapon by the cannon, and was turning it around to aim at him as he had seen him attack his companion.

Riddick grabbed the man’s weapon from him, and smashed him across the helmet with the shoulder stock with enough force to break it off and crack the guard’s helmet.

As the second guard fell to the floor unconscious, the dangerous man swung a vicious kick to the side of the first guard’s helmet which flipped him upside down to land on the ground hard, unmoving.

He went to the console just as the power shortage he had caused corrected itself, the redundant circuitry compensating for the loss of one electric grid.

He deactivated the security measures on the Captain’s cell as well as the one for his first officer, as he had seen the guards do when transferring prisoners.

As the cell doors opened, its two occupants took a few tentative steps outside before seeing him, a huge smile making its way on their faces.


“Captain!” Riddick greeted the occupant of the first cell.


“You sure took your sweet time” Boomer told the Furian, a sentiment shared by her First Officer, Kyra.


************************************************************************

18 hours earlier, Conference room aboard the Musashi


The Captain was sitting at the head of the table in the ship’s Conference room, his First Officer, his Chief Engineer and Security Chief sitting in their usual chairs.


“So, Commander,” He said, looking at his Chief Engineer, “All repairs are completed?”


“Yes Sir, they are!” T’Len answered as stoically as ever.

“In addition to the repairs, we have connected the back-up power generators to 2 Runabouts, and increased the reliability of the circuits.

This way,” She explained, “If we suffer another reality jump, the ship’s power upon arrival will remain at their normal levels while our main systems restart.

We will no longer be dead in the water like before, and will even be able to initiate a short Warp jump if necessary.”


Captain Kirkinger was happy.

For the first time in weeks, his ship was finally running at optimum efficiency, and his crew would now be able to enjoy a short respite.

As the ship’s sensors had not detected any enemies in their vicinity, he ordered all non-essential personnel to get some rest, with a full crew rotation 8 hours later.

He turned to his Security Chief, eager to learn if their MACO leader had been in contact.


“No, he has not contacted us, Sir!” Teramak told his Captain.

“But I would not worry.

The mission had to be secret, he did not know if we would monitor transmissions, and so could not run the risk of these Sith intercepting his signal.

Besides, Sir, we all know he can take care of himself.” He added with a smile.

“I suggest we wait another day, and then, if he still hasn’t contacted us, we should consider sending another operative.”


They all smiled, as they knew exactly who to send if their large MACO leader did not report, and as they smiled they also felt sorry for the Sith for forcing them to deploy such dangerous human beings on them.

They continued on for a while, reading crew reports, departments reports and going through the regular procedures a Strafleet ship Command crew had to perform, which was a welcomed change of pace after the harrowing few weeks they had been through.

After their meeting, he sent his senior officers to their quarters and ordered them to get some rest as well.


“With our luck,” He told them, “We’ll soon need to be at the top of our game.” He finished with a smile.


*************************************************************************************


Less than 5 hours earlier, Bridge of the Musashi


“Captain!” The Conn Officer called.

“We have ships approaching on an intercept course, ETA 7 minutes.”


“Configuration!” Kirkinger requested.


“3 of them match the larger ships around the planet where we arrived two days ago, Sir, and 5 others are much smaller.”


“Threat analysis?” Kirkinger asked his Security Chief.


“We could take on 1 or 2 of the cruisers and all the smaller ships at the same time, but not all 3.” Teramak said grimly.


The communications system beeped then.


“Incoming message, audio only.” Teramak called to the Captain.


Raising an eyebrow, Kirkinger simply said: “Let’s hear it!”


“Unknown ship, you are trespassing on Sith territory.

Stand down and prepare to be boarded, or we will destroy you.”


Kirkinger was silent, thinking his response over and then simply said: “Signal our surrender!”


The crew looked to their Captain in surprise, but they understood that if Captain Kirkinger wanted them to surrender, it was because surrendering was their only viable option at the moment.

The Sith’s reply was long in coming.


“We will send three shuttles filled with Sith Soldiers to board your ship.

You will surrender your Captain and First Officer to the boarding party’s leader, who will then transfer them to our ship.

If you do not comply, we will start shooting upon disembarking on your ship, and kill all we encounter.

If you attack our boarding force, we will fire upon your ship and destroy you.

Do not trifle with us, or you will regret it.”


********************************************************************


Less than 4 hours earlier, Main Hangar of the Musashi

They were lined up in the main Hangar of the Musashi, waiting for the three Sith troop transports to land, ready to surrender.

Except that the Musashi’s Captain was now a petite Asian woman named Sharon Valerii, and her First Officer had gone from a tall, athletic woman with broad shoulders to a petite, lithe woman named Kyra.


***************************************************************************


The Captain had called his remaining MACO members and told them of what was transpiring, and of his intentions of letting himself be captured while the MACOs would remain aboard the Musashi to plot their escape.

He had told them to keep track of Cmdr Tremblay and himself with the help of Beryllium patches that would be stuck on their uniforms, out of view.

The plan was that the MACOs would work on infiltrating the enemy ship where they would be held, sabotage its engines and power plants, and then free the Captain and Cmdr Tremblay.

While the MACOs had agreed the plan was a good one, they feared what could happen to the Captain while the group would be carrying out its mission.

It was then that Riddick added a twist to the original plan.

Boomer would pass as the Captain, as the Sith had never seen their Captain, and since they had not requested him by name, they had certainly not contacted the fleet surrounding their point of arrival in this reality and thus had not learned about them.

Riddick reasoned that if the Sith decided to torture the Captain, Boomer’s enhanced Cylon physiognomy would help her resist it better.

As for Kyra, having been abused many times before, she had the mental fortitude that would see her through tortures others would crack under.

The Captain had not liked the seemingly callous proposed amendment, but had relented when both Boomer and Kyra had volunteered, saying the Furian was right.

Riddick then argued that if he was allowed to board the ship furtively, the chances of that dangerous trio disabling the enemy ship would increase dramatically.

Meanwhile, the Captain, Cmdr Tremblay and the rest of the MACOs would remain hidden in the Musashi’s Jefferies tubes, using modified Tricorders to fool enemy sensors and gradually free the ship without the Sith Soldier’s knowledge.


***************************************************************************************


As the Sith Commander marched his troupes in the Hangar, surrounding the assembled Starfleet officers –minus the MACOs, Captain Kirkinger, Cmdr Tremblay and the Security Chief-, Riddick had made his way around the enemy troupes to enter unseen in the Command shuttle.

The Sith Commander had then sent his Sub-Commander with his prisoners back to their ship in the Command shuttle, their stowaway unnoticed.

They had sent their captured Captain and First Officer to their cruiser’s most secure cell block to await for Captain Falta to supervise their interrogation personally.

Unfortunately for the interrogator, the Captain wouldn’t be available for at least a few hours, as he had to communicate with his fleet Commander and coordinate with his patrolling ships to plan for their patrol routes, to maximize the chances of detecting other unknown vessels in their quadrant.

And so the prisoners were thrown in their respective cells to stressfully await their torture under the scrutiny of Captain Falta.


********************************************************************************


Now, Cell Block 1138

Riddick smiled at Boomer and Kyra as he handed them the guards’ pilfered weapons.


“Well, ladies, it seems you will need to change wardrobe and see if these armors can fit you.” He told his two female companions.

“We’ve got some damage to do!”

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Fri Oct 02, 2015 5:01 pm
by sonofccn
Good to see you back, Praeo.

Nice update. Didn't honestly suspect Boomer and Kyra as the "Captain" and "First Officer" so I had a real huh moment at that.

Look forward to chapter 92

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2016 1:24 am
by Praeothmin
Started writing again... then stopped because of the play I produced and the Hip-Hop competitions and practices... And then RL hit with two colleagues leaving (one for a while, paternity leave, and the other got promoted to another job in the company), so now my writing time has gone down to zero as we are doing a 5 man job with a 3 man crew... :)


Yes, I'm looking for excuses for my laziness and lack of productivity, but I notice none of you have posted anything in while either... I know, 'cause I keep sneaking around here once in a while, and I see nothing new... :)

Anyway, hopefully will be able to post chapter 92 soon...

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2016 3:44 am
by sonofccn
Praeothmin wrote:Started writing again... then stopped because of the play I produced and the Hip-Hop competitions and practices... And then RL hit with two colleagues leaving (one for a while, paternity leave, and the other got promoted to another job in the company), so now my writing time has gone down to zero as we are doing a 5 man job with a 3 man crew... :)


Yes, I'm looking for excuses for my laziness and lack of productivity, but I notice none of you have posted anything in while either... I know, 'cause I keep sneaking around here once in a while, and I see nothing new... :)

Anyway, hopefully will be able to post chapter 92 soon...
Wanted to reply to this earlier but...well I always did have a procrastination problem. :)

Can't say I have any real excuse other than my own laziness but I'll shamelessly blame everyone for not writing updates to inspire me. But more seriously...I guess I just lost the steam for writing the Terrorverse.

Anyway congrats on everything and having to deal with being short handed on top of it all. Hope you post chapter 92 soon indeed. I miss reading yours and Breetia's and Khas's stories.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everythi

Posted: Fri Nov 17, 2017 7:40 pm
by Praeothmin
So that nobody says I don't deliver, here's Chapter 92...


Chapter 92

As he was holding the young alien girl in his arms, his mind registered that the growls coming from the cell across the corridor were slowly becoming words that the Universal Translator was emitting in his ears.

“Mission,” The creature growled, “What have they done to you?” It lamented.

“She’s safe now!” James told the growling creature with more confidence than he felt.
“I got to her just in time.” He added.

He supported the young alien girl with one arm and unlocked the other cell using Mrekthet’s card-key.
The door opened forcefully as a large furred bipedal creature pushed it with all its strength, sending it clanging loudly on the wall at the end of its swing.
The creature was very tall, almost a full head taller than James, and almost as large.
Its body was covered with long, shaggy fur, dark-brown in color.
It grabbed at the young girl, pushing James away mightily, with strength rivalling Riddick’s.

“Get away from her!” it growled loudly, protectively burying the young girl in the fold of its long arms.

James, already pushed back a few steps by the powerful creature, added more distance between them while he put his hands in the air in a peaceful manner.

“I didn’t harm her,” He told the creature, “You saw what happened.
I’m not one of them.” He added.

“You are human!” It growled, as if it explained everything.

“I don’t want a fight.” James told the furry being.
“I will leave you and your friend alone.” He added as he took another step back, eager to show the creature he meant no harm to it or the alien girl, obviously its dearest friend.
“I am simply looking for someone.
Another prisoner, one you may have seen, a human female by the name of Bastila Chan.” He finished.

The big creature looked at James directly in the eyes, suspicion clear in its gaze.

“What do you want with her?” It asked the big human.

“I want to rescue her, if possible.” He told the creature.

“That would be rather nice.” A female voice interjected.
The voice was melodious, if a bit haughty, and had a similar accent to Doctor Numarr’s.
“If it were true.” It added.

James turned his head slightly in the direction of the voice while keeping the furry biped in his field of view.
The voice was coming from the next cell in line on the furry creature’s side.
He saw a face through the bars of the cell door’s opening.
It was beautiful, in a severe kind of way.
A narrow-lipped mouth, below an aquiline nose and two almond-shaped brown eyes surmounted a strong chin.
The eyebrows were trimmed and dark, as was her hair.

“I was wondering when you were going to make an app…” The woman started to say, then stopped abruptly.
He saw the woman appraise him, almost feeling her gaze go through him.
“You are not Tharnock!” She said with certainty, her eyes narrowing menacingly, “Though you look like him.”

“I am not!” He told her honestly.

The assurance this woman had shown in declaring him as an impostor had pushed aside his first impulse, which had been to lie as he had with Carth.
She was well acquainted with this Tharnock, he felt watching her facial expressions, and was truly puzzled at the resemblance.

“I’m with Carth Onasis!” He told her, her eyes widening in surprise, before her brow furrowed in concentration.

He felt a slight tug at the edge of his consciousness, and the intensity of her gaze made him think she was somehow probing him.
It did not feel like the Mind Probes of his friend Managuy, where the young mage was able to read surface thoughts of a subject.
He felt the Jedi was trying to ascertain the truth of his statement.

“Carth was with me when we searched for you, but could not come on the rescue mission as he was injured when we ran from the Sith chasing us.” He told her.
“I hid him in an abandoned apartment on the lower levels, not too far from here.” He added.
“We can go to him as soon as you’re free.” He said.

Then he thought of something else she should know before they regrouped with the Republic Soldier.
“I must also tell you that Carth believes me to be a Jedi.”

“Carth believes you are a Jedi?” She asked incredulously.
“I wonder how he could believe this, as I sense no strength in the Force from you.
This, and your size difference, is how I know with certainty you are not Tharnock, even though you have his face.” She added.

“Is he a friend of yours?” James asked Bastila, thinking he should let her know of his fate.

“He was a… Fellow Jedi, and we were on a mission together.” She told the big human.
“I sensed a strong disturbance in the Force a few days ago, as if a strong presence was suddenly diffused within the Force.”

She looked at James for a few moments, pensive.
“He is dead, isn’t he?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, he died in the crash that brought Carth here on Taris.” He told her, not wanting to describe his horrible death in details.

He went to her cell, and as he arrived, she took a step back.
It looked as if she had stepped down from a podium or a platform, showing him she was on her tiptoes when speaking with him.
He estimated her height at around five feet four inches tall.
As he opened the door after unlocking it with the pilfered security card, he knew his estimate was surely good.

“Who are you?” The Jedi asked, once more appraising the human with an intense gaze.

He new that gaze, as he had seen it many times before, when people who’d first seen him at a distance were suddenly face-to-face with the massive human being.
James Reynolds was impressive at a distance, but up close, he was simply intimidating, and he’d seen people naturally shrink away from him, men and woman alike.
But the Jedi did not shrink away, her demeanor displaying a great amount of self-confidence.

“My name is James Reynolds.” He told her. “And as you might have guessed, I am not from around here.” He added.

“You need to know something else about your friend, Carth. He believes I am indeed Tharnok, as he doesn’t seem to know him as well as you do.” The big human told her.
“I did not want to panic him, or make him believe I had taken his place by disposing of him.” He explained.
“Look, we may not have long before more guards arrive, so we should leave.”

He turned around, and looked at the furry creature, still holding his dear friend in his arms protectively.

“You should come with us,” James told the creature, “If you want her to stay safe.” He finished with a nod towards the young alien girl.

The giant creature looked at him, and then at the female Jedi who’d stepped out of her cell and was now calmly standing next to James.
It seemed to take her action as a sign that the big human could be trusted, for its shoulders relaxed a bit, and he nodded.

The creature, Zaalbar, trusted the Jedi, as she had cursed the Black Vulkars loudly when she had heard them torture it in its cell.
It also knew that if Bastila Chan was a Dark Jedi, it would have been the Sith that would have come for her, not the physical incarnation of wrath and fury such as the big human appeared to be.
Then again, had Bastila Chan been a dark Jedi, the Vulkars would never have dared to take her prisoner, for the punishment from the Sith Empire would have been swift and cruel, and even a gang as powerful as the Vulkars would have fallen easily under a Sith assault.

“My name is Zaalbar”, It growled at the big human, surprised that it could understand it.
“If the Jedi follows you, then so will I.” It added, the aggression it displayed towards James quickly abating.

The MACO leader once more marvelled at these Jedi’s reputation, and the fact that people automatically trusted them based only on this very reputation before even knowing a person.
It reminded him of how Starfleet viewed its people and the Federation, and while he was sure that most Jedi were good just as most members of the Federation were good, there were surely a rotten apple in the bunch, here and there.
He wondered how these bad Jedi were dealt with by the rest, and if their status as “bad” Jedi was revealed to the galaxy at large, or if it was something hidden from the main populace.
He strongly suspected the latter, as he had so many years ago understood that people of any race and species, when looked upon as gods by the masses, did everything they could to keep their reputation intact and ensure the continuation of this reverence from the people.

He was pondering this as they left the cellblock, which explained why he was surprised by the large group of Black Vulkar thugs waiting for them near the exit of the base.

“Where do you t’ink you’re going wit’ my prisoners?” Asked a mean looking dark-skinned man to James.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everything)

Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2020 8:25 pm
by Praeothmin
Hello, I'm back!

Chapter 93

The MACO leader looked at the assembled troupe.
It wasn’t impressive, numbering no more than half a dozen thugs of different alien races standing behind the man who was clearly the leader.
Two were lizard-like, resembling the thug that had almost killed James and Carth, although both were smaller.
Three were humans, and the last one was the same species as the young Mission who was currently cradled in the furred creature’s arms.

The leader of the group was slim and at least six feet tall, with dark skin and dark short hair, and piercing green eyes.
He wasn’t physically imposing, but made up for it with a mean, aggressive demeanor.
He was wearing a plated armor that seemed as light as it was solid.
An assortment of weapons were hanging from his belt.
It also held a strange cylinder about two feet in length, with holes at both ends.
A few buttons and dials, what seemed like controls, were dotting its uneven surface.
The other thugs were carrying Blaster pistols in their hands, loosely hanging at their sides.
The distance between them and their quarry made them feel comfortable that they would be able to bring their weapons to bear and kill their enemies before they could do anything.

If James had been alone, he would not have hesitated before taking down the thugs in a flurry of Blaster shots and knife slashes, showing them just how unmatched they were.
But with the large furry creature cradling his injured friend making such a large and inviting target and the unarmed Jedi beside him, the big human did not dare attack for fear of causing the death of those he had just freed.

The thug leader’s hands were resting on his belt, seemingly displaying a relaxed attitude by their owner.
However, James could see the man was tense, ready for anything his escaped prisoners and their liberator could try.
The other thugs didn’t look too worried, feeling confident in their numerical advantage.

“I went to a lot o’ trouble to get me this piece of work” the man said, pointing Bastila while he spoke, “And I don’t intend to let a two-bit do-gooder take her away from me.”
A nasty smile made its way on his face.
“If you let go of your weapons and surrender now, I will make sure my men aren’t too rough on the little ladies, but if you don’t…” The look he gave them made it clear what he meant.

The furred beast growled savagely in response, which unnerved the thugs a bit, some lifting their weapons up and aiming at it.

“You have your answer, Brejik!” Bastila replied, her voice full of confidence James did not feel in their current situation.
“We are not going back, and you would do well to get out of our way.”
As she finished, she came to stand at James’s right side, yet she wasn’t standing near him as he expected but rather a few feet away.
James was surprised, as he had thought the Jedi would have wanted to use him as a possible shield.
Yet there she was, fully exposed and apparently fearing nothing.
The MACO leader was even more surprised when saw that Bastila had put herself between the thugs and their companions behind them.

“You talk tall for one who was our prisoner still a few minutes ago. You could not prevent us from capturing you then, what makes you think you can now?” Brejik asked with a sinister smile.

“Because now, I am not reeling from a crash, I am in full possession of my capabilities.” She answered, oozing confidence.
“And also, because right now, you are facing TWO Jedi Masters” She added as she pointed James to the gang members.

Brejik’s eyes went wide in surprise, as did the other thugs’.
They were momentarily taken aback, which James understood was the intent a heartbeat later when he saw Bastila extend her hand towards Brejik and the strange cylinder fly off his belt to go straight in the Jedi’s hand.
All heard a strange “snap-hiss” sound as what looked like a light-yellow phaser beam extended about a meter from both ends of the cylinder.
Without wasting time, Bastila started to twirl her energy double-sword around like a baton as she positioned herself protectively in front of her companions.
She was trying to also cover James as she didn’t know that her bluff had not really been one.

James wasted no time in drawing his Heavy Blaster and firing at the thugs that had their weapons in hand.
He had shot three dead when Brejik had drawn his weapon, a small but dangerous looking piece, and had fired at the big human target while activating his personal shields.
He had probably hoped to kill one Jedi before concentrating on his former prisoner.
The big human had to jump sideways to his left, away from the twirling laser batons, and roll like a mad man to evade the accurate shots from the gang leader.
As he rolled up behind some crates to take cover, he saw with dismay the three remaining thugs firing at Bastila.
His eyes went wide when he saw that all the blaster bolts were deflected by the Jedi’s energy weapon.
The twirling beams were an impenetrable wall that offered no breach to the attackers.
Yet the thugs did not relent in their attacks, as they knew that Jedi could not defend herself and her friends and attack them as well.
And they knew that they could spread out, and while their leader was taking care of the other Jedi, for nothing else but a Jedi could move at those speeds, they would eventually prevail.

James was bobbing up and down from behind his cover, and had arrived to the same conclusion as the thugs and their leader.
But now the initial surprise was gone, the situation stable, and the dangerous mountain of a man knew he could do what he excelled at: disposing of enemies.

He switched his Blaster from his right hand to his left and unsheathed his knife with his right hand as he fired from cover at Brejik, lamenting having left his personal shield emitter with Carth.
Still, his shots were close enough that Brejik’s shield flared a few times, forcing the man to duck to evade a few shots.
Brejik was fast, James saw, almost as fast as Twitch, the rodian duelist, which had the large man believe the gang leader had received the same augmentations.
This meant that his next move would need to be perfect, because he could not simply rush Brejik and get clean shots while remaining unharmed.
As he was still firing at Brejik, the gang leader having found some barrier to protect him from James, the MCO leader side-stepped to the left while firing rapidly, and then launched himself fully to his right.
He was rolling and firing wildly at Brejik’s makeshift barrier which forced his opponent to remain hidden.
As he came out of his roll he stood up facing Brejik’s direction, his right hand cocked above his head.
He had barely stopped firing when the gang leader came up to aim at him and kill him.
Brejik saw his target and lined him up in a heartbeat, yet before he even fired a single shot James’s knife flew in and embedded itself up to the hilt in the gang leader’s head.
The thugs were still spreading up, their movements slow compared to their leader’s and Bastila’s, when James switched his Blaster back to his right hand and shot them.
A few moments passed before Bastila noticed the shooting had stopped.

Looking around, she was astonished at the carnage she saw and quickly realized the source of origin.

“What are you?” She asked James, disbelief all over her face.
“I have never seen someone move like this in my life, not even Jedi.”

“Well, now you know why Carth believed me to be one!” he said sheepishly.

Re: "The long Journey" (a Shadowrun crossover with everything)

Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2020 7:36 pm
by Admiral Breetai
My man! Great to see your return!