Havok Pierce
D00M.
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Posted - 2008.06.03 20:07:00 -
[1]
Edited by: Havok Pierce on 03/06/2008 20:08:05
(Moved from IGS, expanded slightly)
While the dead don't care, these living seem to mind, thought Havok as his shields absorbed another impact. His Exequror-class cruiser, Shadowrunner, sat there motionless and absorbed hit after hit while its sophisticated salvage gear picked apart Archangel wrecks (the result of another capsuleer's overzealous crusade) and collected every wisp of useful equipment.
"I swear," he muttered, "they almost seem to hate it more than someone up and killing them." They wouldn't respond to hails, they never did.
Another explosion against the shields. Sansha's Nation didn't either, but he had passed that particular bit off on all of them being insane. The Archangels, unlike the Sansha, did have reason to hate him, however.
The reports continued to roll in, chronicling the efforts of three battleships to wear down his shields and reduce him into so much salvage. Another two tractor beams lanced out, lassoing more spent ships and dragging them near.
"C'mon..." This was the last run for the day, his cargoholds were nearly filled to the brim already. More torpedoes streaked towards his cruiser.
"C'mon... a little more..." He honestly thought that the commanders out there thought his ship to be easy pickings for their weapons.
Finally--his ship's AI reported that the cycles had completed and any last useful bits were stripped from the once-noble ships. He flipped the ship end-over-end and hit warp.
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Havok stared across the desk at the man, a low-level Serpentis business man handling the large station-bound refineries. "Montrose, I've got another load for you," he said flatly.
The man pulled up a window on his display. "Yes... Mr. Pierce, Serpentis Corporation would be happy to melt this equipment down for you--"
"For your usual cut, of course," Havok finished for him. "Always your usual cut."
"We could, of course, be amenable to a deal..."
"If I told you where I was getting this. No dice." Havok crossed his arms.
"Or," the man paused, "for a cut of the items you haven't turned over." He was referring to the crates of equipment Havok had sitting off to the side in his personal hangar--the best of the gear that Havok himself had sifted through beforehand. Useful equipment that would find its way to more vibrant markets.
"Still not worth it," Havok responded curtly. "Your usual cut will do."
"There will, of course, be some loss."
"Whatever, just melt it." He leaned over, not really wanting to deal with whatever other excuses the mealy Serpentis mouthpiece in front of him wished to express, and authorized the movement of thousands of cubic meters of equipment. He got up and left and headed back to his hangar, an inventory sheet in hand.
Back to the salt mines, he reflected. At least the shields will be fixed by the time I get back. He could count on at least that much.
 Originally by: CCP Wrangler
There's a Community petition category??
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