Ris Kee
Member
Posts: 15 
Affiliation: Himself
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Ris Kee on Jun 13, 2018 3:24:41 GMT -8
Breen watched for what many would seem hours but were mere minutes at best, minutes that they would never be able to remove from their waking thoughts let alone sleeping dreams. Breen never hesitated and Luca would be graced by this. Breen walked over to where Luca stood – a safe few meters away - and rose a pistol with a straight arm shooting Luca in the left temple
|
|
Luca
Member
I am honored and grateful that you have invited me to your daughter's wedding....
Posts: 31
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Luca on Jun 13, 2018 3:29:49 GMT -8
The bullet hit Luca and he was dead long before it tore a much wider hole passing out the other side. And it pushed him back forcefully, breaking his grip with the electric cord. He crumpled to the floor
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 13, 2018 3:53:51 GMT -8
Collins walked into the mess a smile on face he declared to An Tiarna
-Collins-
"89% clear! Those Outlaw Tech lads know their stuff!"
|
|
An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jun 13, 2018 4:01:36 GMT -8
An Tiarna looked up at Collins then mimicked him satirically
-An Tiarna-
“Eighty-nine percent clear!”
Voice falling low and flat
-An Tiarna-
“Get this straight: if those lads don’t have this nonsense under control in an hour I start shooting people – as an act of mercy.”
Then directing his voice to all
"Burn those bloody bodies - with chemicals."
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 13, 2018 13:08:32 GMT -8
Hours later an Outlaw Tech nerd, a civilian lieutenant, approached Collins. The discussion was quiet and short. Papers exchanged hands and the man departed leaving Collins to sort through the paperwork. The horrific mess of bodies had been washed away with and the scent of bleach and lemon filling the air but the affect remained. Collins looked up from his reading, then down at his watch. He approached An Tiarna. It was 47 minutes since they last spoke. Collins eyes fell briefly to the pistol in the Old man's lap
-Collins-
"Deactivation "97% complete"
Raising brows he sighed
|
|
An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jun 13, 2018 13:14:00 GMT -8
The Old man watched Collins approach. This was a nightmare. Deirdre dead. Luca too. He heard Collins words
-An Tiarna-
"Might I ask how many of us will be greased between 97 and a 100%."
Hand on chin brows raised he waited
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 13, 2018 13:15:08 GMT -8
Collins bowed his head momentarily. His Comm. scarcely ommited a beep and he answered. Nodding his head then cut the Comm.
-Collins-
"Make that 98.49."
It was as good as he could muster for an answer
|
|
An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jun 13, 2018 13:16:15 GMT -8
The Old man nodded then gestured to a chair at his right side
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 13, 2018 13:54:40 GMT -8
Collins took his seat beside the Old man. A member of the Outlaw Techies walked over
-Outlaw Tech Nerd-
“Ah… hey, hey, your Majestic Lordlyship. We now have complete control of the central computer system.”
Clearing his throat
-Outlaw Tech Nerd-
“what… what is, umm… remains a problem are auxiliary systems designed to defend against seizure of the main….”
An massive blast threw the man’s concentration off momentarily but strangely seemed to finish his though
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 13, 2018 16:24:26 GMT -8
The lighting across the bunker fluttered. Alarms went off sporadically and several doors opened and closed erratically. A low hum ran through the Den but suddenly ceased. Over the intercom a voice spoke announcing
-Communications Geek-
<<ALL CLEAR. ALL CLEAR>>
Collins uttered
-Collins-
“And that’s that. Complete control of security.... Now all we need do is take care of bloody irritating little booby traps - which we know from painful experience the place is riddled with.”
|
|
|
|
Post by An tSúil on Jun 13, 2018 18:31:08 GMT -8
An tSúil levitated in air observing, as she always did. She could do many a thing… others she could not. And her place was a dilemma that she faced, every day, every hour, every minute. This strange family and herself were inseparable. She had watched their ancestors – she would watch their children’s children’s children…. That was how it was and always would be. Still she wanted. She wanted meaning, a purpose and…. And now she believed that meaning was found. Or had it always been? To be chronicler was a most honourable position, still it was most monotonous. Or was it? Narrator… that too it could denote. Most intriguing she thought… Most intriguing indeed. And that she would do, kind reader. She could describe the scene for all to see before the tale wound down to a conclusion. And she could subtly, or not so subtly influence. And add some semblance of order to the chaos. Yes! So let us begin here – shall we?
All that Glitterstim is Gold
|
|
Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
Member
Fag an Bealach
Posts: 203
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
|
Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Jun 13, 2018 19:13:33 GMT -8
The ten remaining memebers of the Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna platoon have reorganized and are now on active duty under a capable officer
|
|
Lámh Dhearg Manaan
Member
Fág an Bealach
Posts: 157
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Jun 13, 2018 19:22:26 GMT -8
Lámh Dhearg Manaan, once a 50 man platoon lost 40 memebers in a tragic accident. Those remaining adjusted quickly with a staff sergeant as CO. They busy themselves stabilising the Den
|
|
|
|
Post by An tSúil on Jun 13, 2018 19:28:13 GMT -8
And so ends another exciting day here in this glorified hole in the ground. To be continued. Please do not try to adjust the screen, or play with anything, during this long break for station identification
|
|
An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jun 13, 2018 23:52:28 GMT -8
Base was one smart cookie. His mother had begged him to enter one of the many schools of higher learning and apply his computer wizardry there. His father had been less polite in his wording, “Kid, you know and I know they’ll eat you alive out there in in the real world. You should be in school with the rest of the eggplants.” He’d never got the rest of his dear departed father’s pearls of wisdom but his attitude certainly hastened his departure.
Base was self-educated, and on one of his many trips looking for old useless computers, junk droids, or what have you, which he would study. Then study some more, before turning said piece of machinery into some wild creation formed somewhere between the literature that he read and the solitary practical exercises he performed as leisure
And somewhere along the way Base found himself where he sat right now, in a hideout built to house the brand of people whom he now rode with. Base had always envisioned a romantic life of motherboards, nonstop action and hot broads. He looked around him. Smelled around him. These ghouls were weird and violent. The broads… the broads were… shame the father was a loon. A big loon
And here he was stuck in a pop can with the entire cast of Reservoir Dogs. ZIIPPPPP!!! And out of semi day-dream moody blues remorse and back to work. He read a status report
Thieve's Den Central Control and Security Status Report
Central computer ~ Control seized
External
Security ~ Controlled and activate
Cameras ~ Active
Internal
Security ~ Controlled and activated
Cameras ~ Active
All was running like clockwork. At that Base snatched a look at his watch then back to his job. Another explosion rocked the base. Screams of the wounded and dying and those attending to the wounded and dying followed. Base muttered
-Base- <<Maybe clockwork is a bad term....>>
He shrugged it off and buried himself in his work. A thundering voice caught his attention for a few seconds. It probably caught the attention of those two systems away
-An Tiarna-
"You think that somebody could set me straight on who and who is not alive here!?!If you're to grievously injured to talk just raise a hand"
Subconciously Base lifted his left arm for a moment. Minutes later the voice roared again
-An Tiarna-
"& while we're on the subject of the dead, could you people kindly remove them once they've transpired!?!"
Murmuring could be heard as an officer explained the state things were in to himself. Again his voice rose up high
-An Tiara-
"Personal hygiene.... They say you can never teach it to a child too early."
Eyes falling on a Togorian
"Or a kitten...."
Another explosion rang out from the south end of the Den, then seconds later one from the east. Bodies flew and those who did not fly flew in to clean up the mess
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 14, 2018 1:18:04 GMT -8
Collins, tired of the sitting saw Mórrígan and jumped at the opportunity, offering her a seat so as to escape the monotony. He fell back into orchestrating the ongoing work on the base. Shouts, a word here, nod there, or a simple hand gesture and glare and bodies moved. He responded to a Comm. buzzing, listened closely then cut the link and spoke to several officers. They immediately moved into action after the short conference with Collins. Joe Cahill fast organized 20 men, himself included and headed towards the door. They disappeared. Collins approached Mórrígan whispering a few words in her ear.
|
|
An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jun 14, 2018 2:01:18 GMT -8
The Hanger
Set within the canyon the hanger is spacious and well-equipped. A master mechanic, Grease Monkey and his sidekick, a younger mechanic name Wheel Wrench run the ship. An assortment of vessels, engines and parts of all manner were scattered about. But Grease has the place organised exactly to his desire.
3 Wayfarer-class medium transport and a Eta-2 Actis interceptor arrive and are docked. Papers are handed to Grease and the men who delivered the ships depart
Nodding to the four new arrivals Wheel spoke
-Wheel-
"Ain't those some fine pieces of engineering Grease?"
Grease head stuck in the documents concerning said vessels did not look up but answered
-Crease-
"Just a sight to behold."
|
|
|
|
Post by An tSúil on Jun 14, 2018 3:51:42 GMT -8
Oft wonder what it would be like to close one’s eyes, make that eye singular. To not see. Not care? Life is a most fantastic thing, from what I can see of it anyways. Funny that the living so easily take away what they themselves would fight for tooth and nail. Again I digress. Where were now in the tale? Yes. Leads to another question: when does it quit raining on this sorry lot and the sun come out and dry them off?
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 14, 2018 20:50:43 GMT -8
Grease Monkey and Wheel Wrench stripped a Wayfarer down of all but evidence of use. A shot of grey prime and a sign painted on both sides: Kessel Spice In, so it read the rest left blank. The finishing touch was mimicking damage to the paint job, giving the vessel the appearance of wear and tear from use. Particularly was taken with where the writing was; here the letters were smeared and the last words completely gone
|
|
Michael Collins
Member
Posts: 108
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna - Warriors of the Ironfists
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Michael Collins on Jun 14, 2018 21:05:05 GMT -8
Mórrígan sat looking as a piece of stone. Collins walked over and whispered in her ear, then stood back
|
|
