| Pages: [1] :: one page |
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| Author |
Topic |
Grak Yarn
Minmatar
Native Freshfood
    |
Posted - 2008.08.26 02:20:00 -
[1]
Edited by: Grak Yarn on 26/08/2008 02:20:41
(The following events take place roughly 40 minutes after the events in "Blood Traitors, BEWARE!")
Carrick tossed the holo recorder into the incinerator last, savoring the memory it bought up. It had been a little more then half an hour since they had caught the traitor in his home. The plan had been simple, of course, and when mister Stig had laid it out, they had all been eager. Yarn, the blood traitor, was planning on giving his employees the night off, all of them, and locking the compound down. He smiled at the irony of how simple it had been to sneak into the compound before it closed down for the evening and hide in one of the public lavatories. Then it had been a matter of him finding the locker room and stealing one of his bodyguards outfits, and having Sid and Drall hide close to the door below the cameras few range. Musing on it all, he headed back to the apartment he and his brave friends shared, looking forward to the victory wine they would be cracking open, and waiting for mister Stig to contact them, and congratulate them on a job well done.
He punched in the simple combination code to the door to their shared apartment and stepped through, blinking a bit and looking behind him as the door hissed closed. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He gave a little laugh, a small shake of his head, and went to join his friends, dismissing it as a part of the flush of victory. They struck a major blow for freedom and the Republic today, and they knew soon they would be given their just rewards. He sat down and picked up the glass of wine they had poured out for him, raising it in a salute.
ôGentlemen, we struck a great blow for the republic and freedom everywhere today! That traitor Yarn and his ilk will not soon recover from it!ö All three gave a little cheer, and drained down their drinks with glee. Another round was being served when he stopped. One of the shadows in the dimly lit apartment seemed, he didnÆt know, wrong. The other two saw his expression and looked over to where his eyes faced, and they stood.
The shadow detached itself from the wall as they stood, and Carrick watched in surprise as a young foreigner took form. She was small, with a soft, rounded face, and quite pretty actually. He wondered for a moment if she was a ***** of some sort, sent by mister Stig as gift. A bit young for his tastes, personally, and he couldnÆt identify what race she was. He thought maybe Achuran, and began to rise himself. Drall raised a hand to grab the womanÆs shoulder ôWho ar-ö he began, but was cut off as the young womanÆs hand whipped forward, fingers outstretched like a claw towards his chest. He let out a whumpf of air and crumpled to the ground, but before the first blow had even been struck, the woman did the same to Sid, fingers slipping between his ribs and into his lungs. She gripped both, lifting them and tossing them hard into the wall, the sounds of bones shattering and bulkheads crumpling sounding loud in the tiny space.
In the three seconds it took her to do this, either maiming or killing his closest friends, Drall had begun to reach for his pistol, knowing that the specially installed sound proofing panels (paid for by mister Stig), would make sure no one beyond the room heard it. Before he could even pull the weapon halfway from the holster the woman glided forward, legs not even seeming to move. One minute she was standing still, the next, horizontal motion. She grabbed his throat in one hand, the other grabbing his hand with the pistol. He let out a yell as she snapped his fingers with barely a twitch and slammed him up against the wall, hand gun falling from his grasp, useless. She brought his arm back and slammed it forward, and he let out one long scream as it went completely though the thin bulkhead and around a stud support. His skin ripped as bone came through, and he sobbed uncontrollably.
(Cont)
______________________________________________
No expansion without equilibrium, no conquest without control. Pursue success in serenity, and service to the people. |
Grak Yarn
Minmatar
Native Freshfood
|
Posted - 2008.08.26 02:20:00 -
[2]
Edited by: Grak Yarn on 26/08/2008 02:29:58
Edited by: Grak Yarn on 26/08/2008 02:20:41
(The following events take place roughly 40 minutes after the events in "Blood Traitors, BEWARE!")
Carrick tossed the holo recorder into the incinerator last, savoring the memory it bought up. It had been a little more then half an hour since they had caught the traitor in his home. The plan had been simple, of course, and when mister Stig had laid it out, they had all been eager. Yarn, the blood traitor, was planning on giving his employees the night off, all of them, and locking the compound down. He smiled at the irony of how simple it had been to sneak into the compound before it closed down for the evening and hide in one of the public lavatories. Then it had been a matter of him finding the locker room and stealing one of his bodyguards outfits, and having Sid and Drall hide close to the door below the cameras few range. Musing on it all, he headed back to the apartment he and his brave friends shared, looking forward to the victory wine they would be cracking open, and waiting for mister Stig to contact them, and congratulate them on a job well done.
He punched in the simple combination code to the door to their shared apartment and stepped through, blinking a bit and looking behind him as the door hissed closed. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He gave a little laugh, a small shake of his head, and went to join his friends, dismissing it as a part of the flush of victory. They struck a major blow for freedom and the Republic today, and they knew soon they would be given their just rewards. He sat down and picked up the glass of wine they had poured out for him, raising it in a salute.
ôGentlemen, we struck a great blow for the republic and freedom everywhere today! That traitor Yarn and his ilk will not soon recover from it!ö All three gave a little cheer, and drained down their drinks with glee. Another round was being served when he stopped. One of the shadows in the dimly lit apartment seemed, he didnÆt know, wrong. The other two saw his expression and looked over to where his eyes faced, and they stood.
The shadow detached itself from the wall as they stood, and Carrick watched in surprise as a young foreigner took form. She was small, with a soft, rounded face, and quite pretty actually. He wondered for a moment if she was a ***** of some sort, sent by mister Stig as gift. A bit young for his tastes, personally, and he couldnÆt identify what race she was. He thought maybe Achuran, and began to rise himself. Drall raised a hand to grab the womanÆs shoulder ôWho ar-ö he began, but was cut off as the young womanÆs hand whipped forward, fingers outstretched like a claw towards his chest. He let out a whumpf of air and crumpled to the ground, but before the first blow had even been struck, the woman did the same to Sid, fingers slipping between his ribs and into his lungs. She gripped both, lifting them and tossing them hard into the wall, the sounds of bones shattering and bulkheads crumpling sounding loud in the tiny space.
In the three seconds it took her to do this, either maiming or killing his closest friends, Drall had begun to reach for his pistol, knowing that the specially installed sound proofing panels (paid for by mister Stig), would make sure no one beyond the room heard it. Before he could even pull the weapon halfway from the holster the woman glided forward, legs not even seeming to move. One minute she was standing still, the next, horizontal motion. She grabbed his throat in one hand, the other grabbing his hand with the pistol. He let out a yell as she snapped his fingers with barely a twitch and slammed him up against the wall, hand gun falling from his grasp, useless. She brought his arm back and slammed it forward, and he let out one long scream as it went completely though the thin bulkhead and around a stud support. His skin ripped as bone came through, and he sobbed uncontrollably.
(Cont)
______________________________________________
No expansion without equilibrium, no conquest without control. Pursue success in serenity, and service to the people. |
Grak Yarn
Minmatar
Native Freshfood
|
Posted - 2008.08.26 02:24:00 -
[3]
She gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen ôSo, mister Sir, who do you work for?ö
He gasped and gulped, fighting down the tears ôW-what?ö
She placed a gentle hand against his chest, and looked up at him with a warm smile öI asked who you worked for, dear..."
ôIàö he gasped and gave a swift sob ôMister Stig! Mister Stig! We wanted to kill the traitor Yarn! He told us how!ö
She frowned, looking genuinely curious "How did the good Doctor betray you, mister sir?"
ôH-heÆs a traitor! He associates with s-slavers and Am-Amarrian scum! And A-A-Amma-ma-matar!ö he gasped out, choking through the sobs to answer her questions, the pain in his arms growing more unbearable by the second as his adrenaline began to dwindle.
She looked mildly disappointed as she plunged her fingers into his chest. "Go to sleep, neh?" As she began casually tearing open his chest, she starts writing something out on the wall beside his head. He watched her, gurgling as he felt his life swiftly failing, and the last thing he saw was her casually walking out the door after having cleaned her hands off in the sink, before everything went grey.
***
Grak Yarn leaned heavily on his staff, wrapped in layers of clothing. Beneath that, his ribs ached as the medical bandages the technicians had given him did their work, working to mend his bone and start to clean up the scars. The security people had allowed him an hours rest, so they said, before they had summoned him down to this low level apartment complex. Everyone had been evacuated and questioned, so they said, and it had been brought down to him to identify the bodies.
He stepped through the door, and swayed. The smell of death was thick in the air, and when he first saw the corpses, he couldnÆt help but bend over and void his stomach into the nearby sink. The officers politely looked away, waiting quietly for him. One offered him a hanky, which he took gratefully and used to clean up his mouth, and took a look at the bodies. Yes, the Vherokior, there, and, oh, the third had been a Krusual. He turned to look at the Brutor last, fighting down the urge to vomit again. The man had been mutilated, practically, his arm twisted in a bizarre fashion, through the wall, bones sticking from it in several places. All three had died of internal bleeding, their lungs filling with blood. He nodded, confirming they were the men, and his eyes fell on the words written next to the head of the man stuck through the wall, written in his own .
ôLumineux glorieuxö
______________________________________________
No expansion without equilibrium, no conquest without control. Pursue success in serenity, and service to the people. |
Grak Yarn
Minmatar
Native Freshfood
|
Posted - 2008.08.26 02:24:00 -
[4]
Edited by: Grak Yarn on 26/08/2008 02:33:50
She gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen ôSo, mister Sir, who do you work for?ö
He gasped and gulped, fighting down the tears ôW-what?ö
She placed a gentle hand against his chest, and looked up at him with a warm smile öI asked who you worked for, dear..."
ôIàö he gasped and gave a swift sob ôMister Stig! Mister Stig! We wanted to kill the traitor Yarn! He told us how!ö
She frowned, looking genuinely curious "How did the good Doctor betray you, mister sir?"
ôH-heÆs a traitor! He associates with s-slavers and Am-Amarrian scum! And A-A-Amma-ma-matar!ö he gasped out, choking through the sobs to answer her questions, the pain in his arm growing more unbearable by the second as his adrenaline began to dwindle.
She looked mildly disappointed as she plunged her fingers into his chest. "Go to sleep, neh?" As she began casually tearing open his chest, she started writing something out on the wall beside his head. He watched her, gurgling as he felt his life swiftly failing, and the last thing he saw was her casually walking out the door after having cleaned her hands off in the sink, before everything went grey.
***
Grak Yarn leaned heavily on his staff, wrapped in layers of clothing. Beneath that, his ribs ached as the medical bandages the technicians had given him did their work, working to mend his bone and start to clean up the scars. The security people had allowed him an hours rest, so they said, before they had summoned him down to this low level apartment complex. Everyone had been evacuated and questioned, so they said, and it had been brought down to him to identify the bodies.
He stepped through the door, and swayed. The smell of death was thick in the air, and when he first saw the corpses, he couldnÆt help but bend over and void his stomach into the nearby sink. The officers politely looked away, waiting quietly for him. One offered him a hanky, which he took gratefully and used to clean up his mouth, and took a look at the bodies. Yes, the Vherokior, there, and, oh, the third had been a Krusual. He turned to look at the Brutor last, fighting down the urge to vomit again. The man had been mutilated, practically, his arm twisted in a bizarre fashion, through the wall, bones sticking from it in several places. All three had died of internal bleeding, their lungs filling with blood. He nodded, confirming they were the men, and his eyes fell on the words written next to the head of the man stuck through the wall, written in his own blood.
ôLumineux glorieuxö
(Editing performed by Qing Jou)
______________________________________________
No expansion without equilibrium, no conquest without control. Pursue success in serenity, and service to the people. |
Myrhial Arkenath
Ghost Festival
|
Posted - 2008.08.26 07:00:00 -
[5]
Nice continuation. Will there be more?
Diary of a pod pilot |
Grak Yarn
Minmatar
Native Freshfood
|
Posted - 2008.08.26 20:41:00 -
[6]
All I can say at this point is that there may or may not be more.
______________________________________________
No expansion without equilibrium, no conquest without control. Pursue success in serenity, and service to the people. |
|
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