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Firefly Chapter 1- Xaing Zhau and Beyond

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  • Firefly Chapter 1- Xaing Zhau and Beyond

    Rolf wandered into the Bar. Well, he didn't so much wander as stagger, drawing few eyes. Sympathy was a commodity, just like anything else on Xiang. You had to pay to get it.

    The Reavers had almost got him that time, the Odin's weren't enough to scare them off, and all his crew had been eaten before him. He was ... Lucky ... one of the Reavers had activated the airlock sequence by accident, sucking everyone out through the docking bay. Everyone but Rolf, who was suited up at the time. Xin, Jarl, Maika ... all dead. He was a Captain with no crew.

    He had placed his ad on the Cortex, free board and a 10% share to all comers, up to seven. He Knew where to go to get his fortune back. He just needed help getting there.
    Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras

  • #2
    Brother Chin Sanchez Rogov, never had very much coin in his life and was down to the last of it. Certainly the destruction of the monastery in which he had served sin he was adopted as just another war orphan had set his life on a diffeent pat. Perhaps the irony of seeking enlightenment in the Black meant that there was a God and he had a sense of humor.

    Ships need fixing and Chin had collected a useful collection of tools for such a humble background. Perhaps too much pride in monk but he did use it to serve others. Quite well if the truth be told. his curiosity and fascination with the idea of learning the workings of a real starship perhaps required meditation to still his passion. He cooks passably and learned the proper herbs, teas and infusions to deal with colicy animals or depression in humans, and has always lived t serve others, pitching in at any task no matter how demeaning or dangerous.

    The members of the order only practiced the arts of the righteous fist out of a reverence for the tradition and discipline and that he and his brothers were forced to use them, unfortunately all too often, to fend off wild animals, bandits, and deserters from the Alliance and Browncoats alike was regretable but necessary. Perhaps had Chin been at the monastery when the Reavers struck he could have save more of the brothers and sisters.

    Now with a sack full of seeds and bread, his tools, his meager supply of coin and his ever present staff, he must ignore the stares of the bar patrons wondering at the Buddhist "yokel" in their midst and find a way off this world.
    "I ask, Sir, what is the militia? It is the whole people. To disarm the people is the best and most effectual way to enslave them."
    George Mason
    Co-author of the Second Amendment
    during Virginia’s Convention to Ratify the Constitution, 1788


    • #3
      A drunken Lecher stumbled up to Rolf.

      "Y-y-y-you" he slurred, alcholhl drawing out his words "Y-y-your that g-g-guy, wh-o-o-o blew up t-t-t-the Gu-Haart".

      "And What's it to you, er, Fine Fellow?" Rolf replied, looking nervous

      "Telsh us! what d-d-d-did yah do? I've never not heard a shtory better!"

      Eyes began to turn. Soon the entire bar was focussed on Rolf, Including that funny looking monk with a monkey wrench at his belt.

      "Well, since you think its so shiny, I'll clue you all in." A Shuffling of chairs signalled the movement of the Entire Bar. Little was free on Xing, and when something offered itself up, you didn't shun it, unless you were some fancy Alliance toff or had other matters needed dealing with.

      "It was in the first months of the War, before the Alliance had whipped all their men into the fight, the days when the fighting seemed even." Though Sympathy was not free, and Empathy usually charged a high price on Xing, many of the patrons of the bar felt twinges. Half had been fighters in that gorram war and the other half had lost it all 'cause of it.

      "Well, I was captain on the good ship Miljnor, one of the converted Ospreys that the Independence used for fighting ships, had a couple of nice hundred pounders on her, boy did they pack a punch, and with my Pilot, Haarken, well, we were one of the finest little boats in the browncoat boys little navy."

      The Bar patrons were sucked in good now, Rolf had a way with words, he spoke nicelike and with a humours tone, as if nothing could get him down.

      "Well, things got tough when the Alliance decided they wanted the black all to themselves, a few hundred pounders 'aint much gainst Alliance cruisers. So me and the fellers made a plan. Me and the Ospreys would distract the Alliance warships while we remotely steered one of them old fireflies packed with explosives into a cruiser, and it almost bloody worked! Thing were all shiny, but they spotted the firefly just before it hit, leaving a huge hole in their side, but the whole weren't huge enough. But I notice that the hole was large enough for Miljnor So I got Haarken to fly in, and deploy the legs, and started to blast that gorram cruiser from within with my popguns. And what hey, it worked!" The patrons of the bar clapped Rolf on the back for a job well done, they all knew the story, but meeting the man who did it was another thing entirely.

      The drunk had tears in his eyes "I h-h-honestly can't never understand how you innerpenence people lost, you h-had all the brainsh and guts, and they only had money!"

      And on that note, four purple bellies strode in, cocky as you like, and started to move on Rolf, ominously like.

      "Why me!" Rolf asked no-one in particular under his breath.
      Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras


      • #4
        Slav listened to the story and rolled his eyes. How many times had he heard someone tell how he had personally killed an alliance ship and survived. If all of them were true the Alliance would still be building ships that had already been destroyed. Oh well embellishing stories didn’t usually hurt anyone and if it made someone feel better about whatever they did in the war that was their business. Bored he checked back on the Cortex to see if anything new had been posted. Hmm looked like someone was recruiting a whole crew. Might be worth checking out if he could get out of here without getting involved in what looked to be developing into a fight.
        Last edited by Tsar; 11 Mar 11, 18:42.
        Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedy. -- Ernest Benn


        • #5
          "Well, Fancy seeing you here Rolf" one of the Alliance bellies drawled "I see your ships docked, got a license for those cannons yet?"

          "Well, I would have a license for them if Licensing stations were in the rim, I can't afford the trip to the core to get one, besides, it's Alliance law, Un-Licensed cannons are allowed, so long I keep to rim-space, protection reasons." The Distaste was clear on Rolf's face, he was oozing hate, as were many Patrons.

          "Well, you see Rolfy, I can call you Rolfy?, Recent edict, all Cannons gotta be licensed, otherwise we can confiscate that ship of yours. Permanently."

          "I 'aint heard of no edict!" Shouted a man from the back of the pub, bringing on a chorus of "yeahs" and an angry murmur

          "Sounds like your Edict just got outvoted by the local court, officer" Rolf said with a satisfied smile.

          The Vid-Screen on the wall then changed program, without warning, startling the crowd. It fizzled, then showed a badly rendered 3-d figure ...
          Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras


          • #6
            (I'll stick to what I posted back in the other thread, selling a stolen car in plain sight is outlandish enough to fit in with everything else going on here. Minus the carrying case... see page two of the last thread}

            This one is wearing an odd collection of cast-offs, and the trench-coat is faded almost white, but when the argument starts she catches Rolf's eye and flips the collar to reveal brown leather.
            Another glance out the viewport at the mention of cannon, and her eyes narrow to slits, and tight lips curl into a grin. "Bingo." Phaing recognizes the Captain with the advert on the cortex... something she had blown off but now looks like the real thing... hopefully.

            A subtle shift in body language lets him know where she stands when the 4 Stooges walk in, one hand deep in the pocket of that baggy trenchcoat.
            And then freezes in place.
            Brother Chin catches her eye, and she knows the type. All of a sudden, the idea of a bloody and sudden gunfight in this place isn't such an appealing prospect.
            Why does the only innocent guy in ten klicks always have to wander into the cross-fire?


            • #7
              It had been a long shift at the Emergency Ward, Dr Achaylus Nissen looked up at the chrono on the wall and sighed, another 5 hours, he had been on the go for the last 54 hours.

              As Dr. Nissen streched his back he thought to himself he had some long service leave comming and decided to go away. But his thoughts were interupted by a call for him to get back to Emergency.

              It was mayhem, a hover car had lost it's grav gens and ploughed into a sidewalk killing several pedestrians. The car ended up smashing into a steel bollard and the driver was in serious condition, dropping in and out of consciousness.

              Dr. Nissen was given the medical brief and looked at it and his tired mind was instantly on the job at hand, sharp and focussed. He made his way over to the patient and looked at him and he recognised him as the son of one of the powerful politicians on Persephone. Dr. Nissen began to bark orders to medical orderlys, within minutes Josophia Devlin was on the operating table, but even the best medical treatment could not help Josophia that day, he died on the operating table, his brain injuries were too severe.

              Days later Dr. Achaylus Nissen was called into the Office of Medical Procedures of the Medical Elite, the governing body of surgeons on Persephone. Dr. Achaylus Nissen made his way into a large room and at the head of the room was the full bench of the Medical Elite all 24 members were not happy men to be there.

              Well within minutes Dr. Achaylus Nissen was under investigation for medical malpractice and criminal medical negligence.

              Fear ran through Dr. Nissen, he knew he was being set up, this was political. At the end of the day Dr. Nissen was in serious trouble, he was allowed to return home, and within minutes or returning home Dr. Nissen packed a duffle bag and slid out and began a life on the run. The fall from grace for a doctor who was touted to join the full bench of the Medical Elite.


              • #8
                The Figure on the Vid Screen began to speak.

                Once the carnage on screen mercifully stopped,dozens of hard eyes turned to look at the Four bellies.

                Thing were about to get ugly.
                Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras


                • #9
                  Harvard S. Lee could tell the blonde needed his help with the car, it was dripping oil onto the floor. He felt the wall of silence wash over the bar as the quartet wander in and start hassling Rolf - whoever he was.

                  The vid played and everyone turned back to watch Rolf cop another round.

                  "Them cannons are fake. I should know, being as I fitted them," he drawled, "and before you start complaining, you paid with fake money, so I gave you fake weapons."

                  Harvard slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cheroot and approached the purple belly with his hand in his pocket. "Got a light?"


                  • #10
                    Phaing watched that brief clip and a red haze clouded her vision, rapid breaths whistling through clenched teeth, and so enraged that she was ready to open up on the Purple Bellies before the wave had a chance to repeat.

                    And then this strange man starts babbling as if nothing had just happened... new target acquired.

                    However, the flippant audacity of asking for a light, in just that way, makes her re-consider her trigger squeeze. Could this brazen fool be trying to de-fuse an almost certain massacre?
                    Her eyes flicker over the crowd, the Monk with the lost look in his eyes, and she decides to let the scene play out just a bit longer.


                    • #11
                      Rolf gave the new guy a startled look, quickly covering it up. He must be trying to help.

                      "Ahhh, um, Sirs, you might be wishing to take your leave, the air round here just got a whole lot less friendly for you and your folk" Rolf said laconically.

                      "You bellies made the reavers!" a heckler from the back shouted "I Knew dem gorram 'penace fellers knew what's what!" another called.

                      The Station P.A. System crackled to life.

                      "Citizens and Visitors to Xiang Zhau, This is Liang Chung, your proprietor speaking. I am sure you have all just viewed the Horror on my stations numerous Vid Screens. I am afriad to say, but I must declare myself separate from a regime that plays with men as a kitten would wool, and then goes on to try and cover up it's mistake.

                      Henceforth, Xiang Zhau is Independent. Alliance Crews and Security forces, you have three hours to Leave Xiang Zhau before retribution most swift is dealt out to you by my own security forces.

                      All shipowners, our ships are now dock-locked until you have had a talk with me. Please be fast, I am eager to engage your services."

                      Once again, all eyes turned on the Alliance men. They followed Liang's advice, and left swiftly.

                      Rolf grumbled and made his way for Liang's office. after waiting half an hour, he was admitted into the businessman's ostentatious sitting room.

                      "Rolf, please sit, I have a special contract for you and your crew, shoul ..." Rolf cut Liang off

                      "My crew is dead Liang, Reavers." Rolf kepthis face hard, though tears boiled within, the bonds of several years take some breaking.

                      "Oh, in that case I offer you my condolences, but the offer still stands, interested?"

                      "I guess, money don't never make itself."

                      "Well, as you may have heard, I have no wish to associate with the Alliance anymore, however, due to taxes, they must have quite a keen desire to associate with me. I've been tipped off by a close friend, a Cruiser is headed my way."

                      "What, you expect me to pull off a Gu again? The Gabriel is a good ship, but the guns can't take a gorram cruiser."

                      "No, no, nothing like that, I need you to get me some goods. You see, in the later years of the Unification war, the Independence relied more and more on mines to save themselves from Alliance ships. I've been tipped off on the location of some very special mines. Cruiser killers."

                      "And why me Laing?"

                      "The mines are on Shadow ..."

                      "You gorram ... you want me to fly straight through Reaver space! are you out of your barn hopping mind!"

                      "Hear me out, your ship is the only one fast, and armoered, enough to get to Shadow and back in time, the cruiser will be here in a week, the Gabriel can make it to shadow and back in four days."

                      "But ... the path there cuts straight through ... you madman, what are you paying me?"

                      "Well, I suspect I will be low on credits soon, but I can offer you five thousand credits, and to sweeten the deal I'll give you a Loki missile system when you get back."

                      "I'm not convinced Laing."

                      "Ok, This is only because I'm desperate, I'll fit the Loki while you hunt for a crew, and you can re-fuel here at half price for the rest of the Gabriel's life"

                      "Sounds like a sweet deal, I'll take it. See you in a few Days Laing ..."
                      Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras


                      • #12
                        Few Days Later.

                        "Yep, shes fitted up tight, what you do to Liang to convince him to give you these babies? they don't go cheap these days .."

                        "Oh, we had an arrangement."

                        "Anyways, I got to fit a Thor to the western wing, I'll see you when you return from where ever you're going."

                        "See you then!"

                        And, on that positive note, Rolf sat back in his deckchair. Two days, and still no Crewmembers hhad applied. Time to raise the stakes.

                        He accessed the Cortex, and put an addendum to his job offer,

                        "100 creds upfront, no questions asked.

                        P.S. Assignment Risky."

                        That should have every adrenaline hound from here to Whitefall yapping at his feet.

                        Task Force Regenbogen- Support and Paras


                        • #13
                          You Rolf?
                          My name’s Slavomir Smith.
                          I see you need a pilot, I’m your man.
                          Tell me where you want to go and I’ll get you there.
                          How come you’re not already working if you’re that good?
                          I got a problem with pay
                          Yea, what’s that?
                          I like to get it when I earn it. Ifen I don’t I stop worken for them.
                          Last edited by Tsar; 12 Mar 11, 04:32.
                          Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedy. -- Ernest Benn


                          • #14
                            (I was not going to make any more RP posts until everyone else had a chance, but I'm going to be gone most of the weekend and this is moving very quickly!)

                            The captain receives and anonymous message to expect a visitor, and a moment later a barbaric-looking little woman shows up at his door, who has just given up trying to sell that ridiculous car.

                            "I scout, I shoot, I scrounge. Take care of bad things or bad people, as you say to, Boss. If that ain't called fer, I can drive ground vehicles or work yer big guns" she nods up at the turret. "Nine-centimeter Lo-High-los, right? Semi-auto feeds can get wiggy in Zero-G with low-recoil guns, but it's all good if you have acceleration on."
                            For references, she flips the lapel back on her coat, showing a couple of mercenary badges.

                            "I want a room of my own, real quarters, don't care how small."
                            Said with a straight face.


                            • #15

                              this was meant for the other thread. oh well.
                              Ogilvy's Loadout:

                              Commando CM 3

                              Python 6 LG

                              Neotech Derringer

                              Ogilvy sighed as he thumbed his last stolen coin. He wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Xiang Zhau as humanly possible, but after two long years in exile here the prospect of leaving was somewhat frightening.
                              The thing about places like Xiang Zhau is that everyone one way or another, is a criminal- but few are actually wanted for it, and of the select number that are few had a substantial bounty. And fewer still had that bounty totted up to five digits all told.

                              but that was years ago, and this Rolf guy had made it abundantly clear he wouldn't ask questions: hes was desperate. Just what Ogilvy Needed.

                              Hey, you captain Rolf?

                              Rolf surveyed the lanky frame that stood before him- Shoulder length brown hair, Black Greatcoat, black and grey stripey scarf, white shirt and blue jeans. Big rifle of sorts slung over the back with the handle of a pistol protruding ostentatiously from his pocket. This guy couldn't be older than 18, and had the distinct look of somebody trying to hide something.

                              Depends, Who's asking and why?

                              Names Ogilvy. I'm a Mercenary of sorts and would like to join your crew- you said you needed fighters for a high risk mission, well I'm your Man.

                              What's your bent?


                              Yeah, I thought so. Listen, This is a dangerous undertaking, My suggestion is you go home- I don't want a childs blood on my hands. Besides, scrawny shoulders like your probably snap under a toy like that.

                              You need a Crew, I need to get out of here- I'm your man and age doesn't enter into it.

                              Why you so desperate to get outta here? and how old are you anyway?

                              20. and you ask alot of questions for somebody advertising "No Questions Asked."

                              ok, fair that. But I don't need a sniper, I need frontmen. and you're too young. sorry.

                              Ogilvy handed Rolf his last coin.

                              This some kinda bribe, Boy?

                              toss it.


                              Throw it!

                              Rolf smiled, he knew what was coming- a steriotypical display of pluck and skill worthy of some crappy action film- he would have nothing of it.

                              Rolf dropped the coin.

                              Ogilvy stared at the coin, then glared at rolf. Well thats hardly fair.

                              A man swathed in rags shuffled over, stooped and sprinted off- the coin was gone.

                              both men laughed for thirty seconds solid.

                              the laughter stopped abruptly, Rolf was frowning.

                              I just don't wanna be the guy responsible for you gettin' taken by them reapers.

                              I understand the risk, I'm prepared to-

                              I know. Ok then.

                              Ogilvy smiled. He knew two things- one, that he was finally getting off this hell hole, and two, that the most unoriginal character post ever written by comrade ogilvy was coming to an end. Thank God.
                              Last edited by Comrade|Ogilvy; 12 Mar 11, 16:12.
                              Propaganda is to a democracy what the bludgeon is to a totalitarian state.
                              ~Noam Chomsky


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