If space had crickets, they'd be chirping right about now...

The Bonecians had not had a nice history on Jareniid. Don't get me wrong, things had been fine when they first immigrated to the rich world, and then they'd had rights. But what were rights to them these days? They had the right to work, the right to get paid crappily, and the right to follow everything the damned nobles told them to. Their light-sensitivity had been exploited to the maximum since the nobles took over, their protective goggles being taken away and sold on the black market, only to be melted down and made into someone's piece of art. They'd gone blind, well, most of them, but the nobles seemed to think that they had become blind to mistreatment as well as the universe around them. This was not so, as they could still feel the whips lashing against their gray skin. They could still hear the cries of anguish that erupted from their comrades. There was the occasional human owner who would have mercy on them, and send them back to Bodesis, but that in itself would be a miracle, something worthy of tales among the alien race.

One of the products of a human showing mercy on a Bodecian was Taris's mother, who was the daughter of a minorly well-off human and a Bodecian slave woman. Exactly how the two had ever fallen in love she had never known, but everyone in her area of Jareniid's capital city knew their names, and revered them. Her parents had been killed when she was 6, and then the fun really started, didn't it? The fun that led to the removal of her lungs, one of her kidneys, her windpipe, and her right arm. The fun caused by Dr. Tolian Navarre, a mad scientist by alien slave standards. Then again, something good came out of it, didn't it?

If space had crickets, they'd be chirping right now, Taris thought, as she took another hit from her cigarette. It had been like this all week, not a ship in sight, except for hers, of course. They weren't even in Wild Space, either. They were just coasting around in the middle of nowhere, avoiding the occasional meteorite and looking for the next ship to hit. She'd just gotten a new crewman recently, too, that Sandman guy. He hadn't gotten any action of the pirating sort since he'd gotten on board, which made her feel kind of sorry for him. Oh well, they'd probably get something soon. They always did.

She leaned back in her pilot's chair, looking out the viewscreen for anything, anything at all to do.

James "Reaper" Nashi stood at the hatch of his ship, currently on autopilot, about to mate with the target vessel, which he had disabled with an EMP blast. He patiently waited, not moving at all, eyes closed. Then, there was a groan, as if a protest from the pirate vessel, as his boarding bridge extended and latched onto the other ship. The ship lurched as it altered its speed to match that pf its prey, and then seemed to cease movement. In reality, of course, he merely had nothing to compare its speed to, as there were no viewporst where he stood. However, both ships were currently rocketing across space at a good chunck of light speed.

With a quick motion he opened the hatch and stepped into the pressurized bridge between the two vessels. Stopping at their hatch, he reached into his long, black coat and withdrew a shaped charge. He quickly shaped it to matchthe frames of the hatch. He reached his hands into the opposite sides of his coat and procured two antique desert eagle pistols, modified for his personal, ruthless, fighting style. He aimed at the fine line of explosive, took a breath, and closed his eyes, then squeezed off a single shot. The particular charge he used had relatively little concussivve force, just enough to jar a ship's hatch off of its hinges for rapid entry. Their real value was in the powerful flash they made due to tehir magnesium/phosphorous content. Shutting his eyes had minimized his exposure, but whoever was on the other side would be blind. Without missing a beat, he opened his eyes and raised both guns, switching them both to fully automatic as he did so. He then proceded to fire in a 140 degree pattern, just missing the walls of the bridge in the process. He couldn't see, as their lights had gone out, but he didn't need to, because as he fired, an unseen target let out a dying cry and then was still. As James walked onto the ship, he felt something soft beneath his feet, and could feel the change in traction as he tread on his opponents blood.

((You better hope you're not talking about my ship, boy.))

((I'm going to assume he's talking about an NPC ship for now...))

Alexander McEnroe prowled the depths of the Apparition warily. His prey was one that could strike at any time, from any direction, without warning. They inhabited ships all over the galaxy, scavenging what they could to make a living off of. Alex, or Sandman as he was called, unholstered his pistol, flipping it detatchedly while focusing intently on the slightest unusual sound or movement. After twirling nearly silently through the air for a few moments, the stun pistol returned to its holster with a dull thud. Just then, as if in reply, Alex heard a rustling from his left, and in less than a second, the skittering thing appeared for an instant in the tiny hole that granted service entrance to the inner workings of the ship. An instant was all he needed. The first half was spent aiming, the second, firing. Just like that, the thing fell limp to the hull with a hearty flesh-on-metal sound.

"Hehehaha!" Alex almost giggled. "Take that ya bastard!"

Rats. They were everywhere. Mankind hoped to be rid of them once they left Earth, even if only to take on new, alien scavenging vermin. But the rat was a resilient little thing, and stowed away on ships for years, breeding, chewing on power cables, and somehow still finding time to find food to survive while all this trouble-making was going on. The Apparition had a small problem with them when she left their last port (when Alex had joined the crew), and, since there seemed to be no action whatsoever when it came to pirating, the impatiant pirate took to extermination duty. It kept him sharp anyway, and damn, did he hate rats. They were disgusting things, to be sure, but Alex suspected a deeper aversion.

As a child, Alex grew up, parentless, in the slums of Jereniid. His earliest memories of a parental figure were of the matron of an orphanage that was as official as they got in lower Jereniid; the government was sending no help, but at least some of the richer citizens of the slums (meaning those that could afford bread and have money left over) donated a small ammount, all they could possibly afford, to the children. As it seems to turn out alot, Alex found that the generocity of a few was no match for the sustinence to be gained from taking without asking from the truly well off. Alex made regular visits to the upper levels of Jereniid to steal what he could from the middle-class, though the elite and noble were too well guarded for a boy like himself. One day, he got caught, and after being released from prison, he could no longer find the orphanage that had supported him. Fed up with his damned life as a rat in a sewer, he stowed away on a freighter. Much to Alex's surprise, the ship was quickly boarded by pirates. Naturally, he was a little frightened of them at first, but after watching them from a distance as they carried off the supplies and acted almost cordial toward the crew, he ran up to them before they could go back to their ship. He begged them to let him come with them, and, after realizing that he had no home, no family, and no life to live, they took him in. His pirate "family" trained him in the briganding arts, and he learned to be the crack shot he is today. Finally, they said, it was time for him to move on, find a new ship, and start his own legacy. Grateful for the help they had given him, Alex departed for a new chapter in his life. He boarded the Apparition with high hopes.

And now he was killing rats.

"That's the last of 'em cap'm," he yelled up the service ladder to the bored woman with less to do than he. She was the captain, some sort of alien Alex couldn't place at first, and apparently a cyborg. He had had very few direct dealings with her , surprising with the normal comraderie aboard pirate vessels like this, and hoped to start off their relationship well, but so far all he had to offer his new captain was a handfull of dead rats. Indeed, he climbed the ladder with a brace of them in hand, holding them by their nasty little tails. As he thought of whether or not to jokingly offer them as a present to his captain, Alex couldn't help but hope to God somebody would show up soon so they could rob them.

*"Allright mates, let's do this! I'm knocking the thrusters spark out, we want to get past this sector as quick as possible!" Duraan Duran shouted, the proud captain of the Rio keeping his usual partyman's demeanor with a half frown on his face. Sectior 7-A wasn't any thing to shoo at, nothing ever happened there, and the sooner the crew got out of there, the sooner they could party, loot, destroy, whatever!

"Wait a second, I think I see another ship out here!" A voice responded through Duraan's earpiece. It was the voice of Sting, his turret man. Sting was a responsible fighter and a great shot, something that was necessary considering the blinding speed of the Rio, still, Duraan didn't like to use it much, he was a non-confrontational type and took to talking his way out of most situations, even gambling his way out at times, it was his favorite hobby. It struck Duraan as strange that the navigational computer didn't pick it up first...

"Hey! Morrissey, you asleep down there, my love? Wakey wakey!" Duraan laughed into the communications dock.

"Shut up...I figured letting Sting tell you the good news would be better!" A female voice replied (with a rebel yell), this was Morrissey, a very beautiful Salien woman, known for their jet black hair (which she had red highlights streaked through) and long digits which allowed their race to carry highly complex weaponry, this gave them the edge in many wars, and even to this day the Salien army was one of the most powerful forces in the galaxy. Why would someone from this proud race be traveling with pirates on the Rio, one might ask? Well, she was supposedly abandoned back in the day and Sting took care of her all of her life, so when Sting's best friend Duraan had finally finished his "masterpiece", the Rio and started his journey for loot and fun Sting of course brough Morrissey with him. This left the last member of the crew, Doom, he had a longer name, but Duraan didn't ever have the time to remember it, in fact Morrissey was the only member that would address him by his full name all the time, even if it annoyed him so. Doom himself, he only did anything that the other three members of the ship couldn't handle, he cooked, he cleaned, he took care of the crew very well. Of course that doesn't stop them from playing their share of pranks, a real jack of all trades he was.

"Hahahaha, allright, my bird, but don't you forget about the ship! What's the computer say?" Duraan looked out the rear viewport and saw Sting turn the turret in the direction where he saw the shit, Duraan immdiatly veared in that direction. The neon giant complied and made a swooping arc in the direction of the ship, the nearby starbeams pouring in through it's obtusely shaped windows.

Morrissey pulled up the data as it burned into the green phosphate screen in front of her in pure black display. She rolled her eyes as it did, how she hated this piece of crap. Maybe one day Duraan will finally cave and buy something more advanced. She briskly turned toward the communication deck in the computer room and relayed her message, her hands twinged much like a receptionist telling her suprior about the 4 o'clock that was in. "Well, I can't get a name on the ship, quad engine design, armed, sorta looks like a...bat."

"A Bat? Get outta town!" Sting interrupted over the comlink.

Duraan laughed and eyed up the ship before him, party guests! "A-ha! I've got an idea for some fun, let's veer past them, give em a little scare!" He heard Morrissey sigh in disapproval over the comm as he accelerated.

Driff's slender fingers began an escapade on the manual piloting system. A narrow grin grew wider across his face, as he vigerously slammed down several small switches.
"They're right behind us Greny! Will you get our thrusters going anytime in the next few years?" He spoke jokingly into the comm systems.
Greny was a short dark green Plagan, a race that was especially good with their hands. Since he was the only one that could keep up with Driff's commands, he was made the engineer of the ship. As well as the only crew member.
"You make it sound like it's so easy! Here we go, engage 'em!"
"This is why I hired you Gren-boy!"
Hitting a small flashing button, the ship darted foward quickley. Throwing Driff back into his seat and most likley Greny around the room. The jolt had allowed them to barely dodge a laser shot, which skimmed across the Blaze's hull lightly.
Beginning to think starting something with the newly-found opponent was a mistake, Driff had started to become hasty. He veered the Blaze around and fired several shots at the enemy ship, hitting it dead on.
Yet, the opponent pulled itself closer, coming in towards them at full speed.
"Their gonna ram us!" Driff screamed, pulling the Blaze upwards. As he had done so, the enemy shot under them, right at the point where Driff could drop a couple of spider mines on them.
"You guys were formidable, but, goodbye."
Pulling out a small level from within the control panels, Driff quickley activated the spider mines. As he watched the ship under them explode, Greny activated the thrusters and sent them out of that sector in full speed.

James had swept through all but one room of the pitch black ship, encountering no resistance to speak of. One or two random gunshots taken at him, perhaps, but he easily dispatched his frightened and panicked opponents. Now he stood outside the door to that last chamber, thinking. From what intel was available, the total crew of this vessel was 13, and he had already dispatched 4, meaning there must be 9 in this next room. He put his ear up to the door and listened, but there was nothing. Slowly, he reached his gloved hand into his coat and removed another shaped charge, this time putting a timer on it. He normally didn't use a timer due to the audible countdown, but this was a special case. He slowly shaped the charge around the entire frame this time, and then set the timer for 10 seconds.
10. He backed three meters away from the door.
9. He reached for his guns.
8. He set the dial to semi.
7. He set the dial to auto.
6. He inhaled.
5. He exhaled.
4. He closed his eyes.
3. He started for the door.
2. He came to a run.
1. He leapt...
The blast blew the door inward and carried him inward in a flash of blinding light. Random shots rang out from all sides. James hit the floor in a roll and stayed in a crouched position. More shots came, then silence. for several minutes there wasn't a sound. Then, finally, someone spoke.
"Did you get him?"
"Shut up."
"Wait, listen." James got up, eyes still closed, and suddenly squeezed off two shots in front of him.
"GAAAAAA!" An unfortunate pirate half gurgled a dying cry of pain. 8.
"He's alive! Kill him, kill him!"
Shots rang out. James flipped backwards, crossing his arms across his chest and firing a burst to either direction. Another man screamed. 7.
bullets flew in either direction, but James had prepared for this. Statistics showed that attackers always aimed for the areas of maximum damage, namely, the head or chest. With his shots clearly illuminating his body for his enemies to see, a simple movement to either front or back would easily take these vital areas out of harms way. Combined with a specialized suppressing fire pattern, this system of dodging a nd systematically clearing a room was the heart of the deadly gun kata. Which he had both created and mastered.
As he came out of his flip, he shot straight ahead and then slowly brought his arms back, spraying a 180 degree area until the clicking of the hammer told him that he had run out of ammo. Two more men screamed in mortal pain during that deadly barrage. 5.
James ejected his clips and rolled forward and to the left, reaching to the back of his coat with both hands where an autoloader inserted fresh clips. He napped up, closed the slides with a motion of his thumb, and resmued firing, this time both to the back-left corner. Another dying plea. 4.
A simple twisting of his body dodged more clumsy shots and allowed him to get a clear shot at the back-right corner. Yet another scream added to the piteous chorus. 3.
A quick cartwheel took him out of the way of a shotgun blast . He located the shooter with his ears as he cocked the weapon, whirled, and unloaded on him as he was raising his weapon. 2.
A backward roll took him lower than their aim and gave him the time to yet again replace his spent magazines. He came up in the center of the room and executed the kata finish, first firing straight ahead, then crossing his arms to get the corners, then extending his arms fully to each side. for the back. He bent his arms behind him and shot behind, then slowly corssed them over his head, spraying the area with .50 cal bullets in the proccess. Two more wails sounded. 0.
James opened his eyes and procured from his sleeve a chemical glowrod. Twisting the shaft, it emmited a bright light, allowing him to survey the damage done. Bodies, blood and spent cases covered the floor, as expected. Nine bodies in total. With this knowledge, adrenaline began to seep out of his system, and he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He opened his coat to see that a medium caliber bullet had punctured his light armor and caught him in the midsection. Luckily, it appeared to miss any vital organs, and had been slowed by his vest, painful, but not leathal by any means. Luckily, with the money he'd recieve for this job, he'd have enough to hire the best doctors that could be found anywhere and take a year long vacation. If he were one for vacations, of course. James trudged through the pile of bodies back to his ship to report to his employer.

"The sound of a thousand angels singing." The engines engaged and a black speck rose into the air against an all enveloping blanket of blue. This speck, the Shadow slayer, manned by the pirate Garret "The Horror" Westbrook, had one final destination plugged into her flight program; that spot that Garret and his ship both yearned for was freedom.

His eyes were closed, his mind and soul were his hand's only guides, and they had never failed him before. The violins played their tune on Garret's speakers, heralding him into the vast blackness of space. "Farewell Jareniid, old girl. Don't know when I'll be back." He subconciously spoke to the planet as he exitted its atmosphere. The slayer spun into space like a firecracker, and Garret Westbrook was in store for another of his "adventures".

Kaya leaned back in the VERY comfortable leather chair was sitting in. Her waist length firey hair was pulled up into braided buns, and she closed her eyes. She was half Erisian and half human. She brushed a stray hair behind her slightly pointed ear, and thought of her parents.

when she was twelve they wanted to marry her off to the Sentor of Jareniid. At that time he was only on the Council, and now was sentor. Good for him, she thought. 'You know, running away was the best thing I could have ever done. Course I had bumps, I got past those.' she laughed causing her First mate to look up at her.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. He was full Erisian, and had shoulder length black hair. Yuri followed her everywhere, and on some ocasions had to act as a slave to her. Yuri did not care.

Kaya stood up, and stretched cat-like. She steped away for the chair, and Yuri followed her. "What section are we nearing?" she asked.

"Colony Two-Fourty," Yuri said. "No shiping dock." He said, in his flat voice.

"Ahh." Kaya sighed. "Business has been looking down, hasn't it?" Yuri did not answer. Kaya and Yuri left the "commons room" and walked the halls into the Hatch.

Kiro did not look up from his screen. "How close are we to a docking pad, Kiro?" Kaya asked.

Kiro typed furriously on his keypad. " About 14 jumps."

"Can we hyperjump?" she asked, and Kiro nodded "yes". "Hyperjump 14." Kiro nodded, laughed, and typed on his keypad.

Toxicated powered up, and then with a pop began to huperjump.

The other ship showed up on the Apparition's sensors a little too late for most people's comfort, but when it did, Taris just smiled. Finally, something to do! Although, of course, the veer looked deliberate, so it meant that someone wanted to toy with her, which changed this from business to more of a game. She turned in her chair, taking one last hit of her cigarette before nodding to McEnroe. He had a bunch of rats in his hand, which would otherwise soon be sent out the airlock...but wait...

"McEnroe, we've got company, but I'm not thinkin' it's the type that we want to get rid of immediately. Load up the guns...and make those rats useful." With this she grinned darkly, the meaning of her words very easily found. She didn't want to make the shots she fired at this ship lethal...not just yet. And it wasn't dangerous enough currently to use the device that gave the Apparition its name, so she might as well mess with the other captain's head a little. Using rats as ammo sounded as good a plan as any.

She then spoke through a loudspeaker to the other two members of the ship, who were at the moment down in the dining room on the lower level.

"Johnston, get your sorry ass to engineering and get my baby's engines fired up. And Karrick, if I don't see you up here at the communications station in two minutes, it'll be you we use as ammo. Get to work, people, we've got company!"

The sound of a distressed whine carried up through the ship as Johnston ran up the stairs and down the hall opposite the bridge to get to engineering, and the resonating growl of Karrick sounded out as the multi-limbed alien climbed up the stairs and sat in the chair on the other side of the bridge. Everyone was in place.

"Now hold on. They made first move, so I'm gonna give 'em a counter. Hold on to your hats..." With this, she accelerated quickly, pulling ahead of her opponent, and then pulling up right in front of them, only JUST missing the nose of the vessel. From there she pulled up again, so that the ship was now upside down compared to her opponent's. She then shot to the back of the vessel, flipping right-side up in comparison to the Rio, and ended up following them closely. She spoke quietly, speaking directly to the other ship even though it would be impossible for them to hear her.

"Your move."

Not even the second jump, Kaya was seated, and her eyes closed. The Camerion never jumped, and it still made her slightly nervous. She smiled at her First mate who stood beside her.

It didn't take long for the 14 jumps to complete, and they landed right beside two other ships. Yuri went to the second section of the hatch, and typed on the keypad bringing up a large screen.

"Oh my. Are they Freelancers or pirates?" Kaya asked herself. "Kiro can you jump once more?"

"Cap'in skipping out a chance to fight?" Kiro laughed.

"I want a feather bed, some good cooking,and a hot bath." Kaya scowled. "I'm tired of the travel food we have." Kiro nodded. Since busniess had been down, they couldn't have the gourmet foods they usually dined on.

Toxicated powered up, and with a [i]pop[i] they jumped again.

"Coming into Sector 4, Colony Four." Toxicated said.

They jumped once more, and landed in the docking pad. Kaya sat up, and walked out of the ship. She stretched again. "Ahh! Fooood!" Kaya exclaimed, and Yuri laughed at Kaya's childish antics.

(( Check the OOC Remarks topic for this RP concerning Ship-to-Ship combat. I would love to post, but BeeAre is making it impossible. "We need to write a post." "Alright!" *TehBeeAre has logged off* *Roboman* ))

There were three sorts of fights a pirate got into in most cases. The most common was that of a raid against a freighter carrying valuables or anything that the attackers could make a profit on; these fights were easy, as the freighters were not heavily armed, and the pirate ship could pick the fight. Next came the privateers that enjoyed the hefty bounties on pirates and their vessels; these fights could be difficult, since they were usually the ones to initiate the battle, and were master trackers in most cases. Finally, pirates sometimes fought eachother, usually over territory conflicts or if they happened upon a single ship at the same time, with no civil dispute coming about. Of course, from time to time, the pirating business will lull, and pirates will attack eachother simply to alleviate boredom. This seemed to be one of those rare fights, which usually prove pointless, but, for the winning side, quite entertaining. Still, Alex shook his head at the wastefulness of it. He was far from a bloodthirsty brigand, but he knew that the sort existed, and figured that this was an example of the kind.

Still holding the rats in hand, Alex scrambled towards the gun control system. Normally this was used little during combat, only afterwards to reload, but Alex had a special need for the ammo loading systems today. Finishing that task, he headed to his normal spot in the ship in a fight, the closed-in space that allowed total immersion in the task of controling the weaponry for the ship. When Alex first came on board, he noticed that the laser cannons on either "wing" of the ship were locked in place, to be fired straight forward in a fight. He winced when he saw that, as he knew that the model could swivel, turret like, in a half-sphere radius, though the previous gunner hadn't been experienced enough, apparently, to employ this difficult feature. Alex was free of any such handicap, and had quickly engaged the cannons' rotational capabilities.

As he slid into the hard plastic chair designed to keep its occupant alert at all times, Alex relished in his position. The little room was incredibly private, and made him feel comfortable, safe even. Ironic, as the space was really meant to be used only in heated combat, but true. Other than the cannons, Alex, no, Sandman when he was in this mode, had at his disposal a pair of torpedo tubes that were relatively obsolete when it came to modern lasers, but came in handy from time to time. They would generate quite the comotion in this battle. Sandman warmed up the tubes and anticipated the battle to come. After a jolt denoting the Captain's first move, Sandman knew she would want to wait for them to make theirs. He grinned, and activated the comm.

"Sandman in position. All's ready on this end. Let's make the pyres and light the fires."

In the expansive network of Jareniid's information, video, and hologram networks a priority message nestled itself within the hard drives of sevrel pirate ships known by the Liberdade Rebellion to operate in the area. (All of you pirate RPers, that is.) The message was a simple and small auido message that played while a hologram of the symbol of the Liberdade Rebellion (a 6-pointed-star with an image of an ideal they represented at the end of each point) was projected. A gentle female voice read that a Collective Councel of Jareniid supply vessel was on its way into the system, and gave the exact location the vessel and its escort craft would be at in three days. The voice informed the pirates that the vessel would be carrying military equipment to support the forces planetside that were engaged in squelching the rebellion. It was also hinted that an experamental and powerful ship-mountable laser weapon would be among the supplies carried by the lightly defended supply craft. The voice pleaded for the supplies to be intercepted, and the attractive sound of her voice may have been enough to help persuade an empathetic ship captain into taking action. After the plea the hologram would fade and the file would delete itself instantly after viewing, leaving only the numbered coordinates where the supply craft would be in three standard days.

"So, you understand that the jewelry that we may've misplaced while loading the prisoners is of the highest caliber, valued at hundreds of thousands of Jareniid credit... And some of the prisoners might just have comandeered it for their own personal use. For that jewelry, a Law Speaker would be easy to afford!"
"Aye, mates, Icy whacher trying terpal. Them rebels loster fewve their leaders in sumsartve RAID. Gerrinem back teryah shouldn' be, persay, hard. Unthanks fertha jew-el-ree offer. Illcy what my capt'n thinks bouthis." said Malkuth in his naturally slurry pronunciation of Galactic Standard (it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd just downed six Pan-Galactic Gargle-Blasters), stroking his jaw thoughtfully, sitting at a run-down cantina in the bowels of Jareniid's many spaceports, while the ship was being refitted from its last long-distance journey.
He rose, with no further ado, thumped off on his six massive blade-tipped legs, over to the ship, which sat no more than fifty standard yards from the bar in a docking port, which was a glorified name for a hole in the architecture for ships to land in.
In no time, he was aboard the Manix Runner, the marvelous pile of bolts that he had the pleasure of mechanicing, and, with a bit of manuvering of the main hatchway, he clambered up into the hull.
"Ay, cap'n? Therein a prison ship weshudtek alooka. Valuables and whatnot. Passing near terder Third Moon in halferday. Valuables been: Jools, 'n Poilitickle Prisnars. Jools been ON the Prisnars. 'S a bribe fieversanun. But hey, iftha lootsguhd, Icy noresn ter NOT go... But! If yehmusknoh, my buddy's not moved, overnder bar. Alewait yer desidin, 's always."

(My description isn't up to personal par, so I'll likely edit this post sometime in the future. But I did want to toss the point of the post to Ling, so he could do what he wanted.)

James walked out of the overnight clinic feeling like a new man. It was amazing what the regeneration vats could accomplish in such little time. That was the main reason he used such lethal means to accomplish his goals, if you only injured a man he could one day end up killing you. Fixing his coat, he hailed a transport and waited for it to stop for him. Opening the hydrolic door, he stepped into the small bug-shaped hovercraft and sat down in the worn out seat.
" 13756, District 17." The drivers nod was reflected in the mirror, and he took off hastily. After about a ten minute ride, he was left off at a balcony ten floors above the street, after paying the driver with his latest salary, of course. He opened the door to the inside, onlt to be greeted by complete darkness. He walked through this antechamber into his main apartment, which was blindingly lit. His eyes adjusted at a remarkable pace. He had set up his apartment purposely for two purposes: one, to condition him to quickly adjust for light changes, and, two, to provide him with a distinct advantage should the apartment ever be attacked. He crossed the room and sat down at a bech, the ancient, black reloading kit at the table in strak contrast to the enveloping white of the room. He be gan to heat metal and prepare gunpowder to mold into rounds for his ancient weapon.

Two hours, forty rounds later, James was satisfied. He went into the adjacent room, pitch black like the antechamber, and lay down in his spartan cot,thinking about his next two targets as he did so: The Shadow Slayer and The Apparition

The ends of a heavy-black trenchcoat appeared to Malkuth from the direction of the ceiling, followed by the head of the capton of The Manix Runner, Tycho Korrain. He pulled the ends of the trenchcoat up so that it wouldn't onstruct his view as he hung upside down by his adhesive legs. Lids closed over his massive black eyes sevrel times as he took in Malkuth's information. Even after a few years of traveling with the Soothsarnaton, Tycho still had problems understanding his slurred basic at times. Especually on the rare occasions he witnessed him angry, he wondered if he was even speaking basic anymore or some mix between basic and a native tongue. A smile formed on Tycho's face at the information. "Excellant news, I'm getting tired of being on this rock. We're all fueled up, and on a related note funds are running rather low, so there is no reason not to take the job. Remember, though, the jewels are secondary. We worry about helping the Liberdade before we worry about making any money." Tycho bent his upper body towards the ceiling again and out of Malkuth's view, the sound of a micro-welder began for a moment and then stopped, and Tycho let his upper body drop down again to look at Malkuth. "Tell him we'll take the mission with any more information he's got. And get yourself something to eat, there won't be much we can take with us on board. Stay away from the Rontorg beans this time, though, eh? I know it's about the only thing this place can make that doesn't taste like depleted Hyperdrive fuel, but my sence of smell is a lot more sensitive than yours." With this he pulled his head up again and the sound of the micro-welder resumed.

((I Got permission from Al to double post in this topic whenever I need to from. This RP has laid dorment for awhile, perhaps from a lack of direction. I want the message sent from the Liberdade to all pirates notifying them of the position of a CCJ supply vessel to be acnoldaged by all people RPing pirates. It will give everyone a chance to interact, weither to cooperate or compete. The supply vessel will pass by Jareniid's farthest moon, Aurion, which is currently orbiting on the nighttime side of the main planet. The moon is a center for scientific research, chosen for its remote location. The supply shipment is lightly defended by a flight of standard CCJ combat craft, small and slightly nimble ships with virtually no defence and sub-par stationary laser turrets. Pathwarden will RP the resistance to pirate RPers. I'd appriciate if all who are going to participate in this post some sort of approach to the location (it doesn't need to be a big post) and once all who will participate have arived I'll start it out. ))

Kiro, who hadn't left the ship, he hated leaving the ship. Opened the file, listened, and then promptly hurried to find Kaya. She was found in the cantine of the docking pad.

He signed to her they had a job. She smiled big, and stood up. Yuri paid for her food, and together they left and boarded the ship. Kiro told Kaya the location, and they powered up for hyperjumps. Kaya was dancing behind Kiro's chair.

"And you are cap'in." He said in a disbeleiving voice, shaking his head. She hit him across his head, and then gave him a hug. Yuri laughed at her.

"You should act more mature." he said in his flat voice.

Mallick stood on the bridge of the blue destiny with his arms folded behind his back staring through those beautiful icey blue eyes of his. his red naval copy uniform shone in the lights of the bridge, the gold shoulder pieces shone extra bright as he smiled and looked onto the vastness of space. he had his usual opera music playing in the background, maybe something in italian or german, maybe even in french.

"sir" a lowly pilot said to him.

"what is it ensign" mallick said. mallick sort of had a thing for ranks so he ranked everyone underneath him. of course he hasnt found a good first officer yet and highly doubts he will.

"we're coming up on jareniid port" the pilot said.

"good.....drop us out of lightspeed and prepare for advancement, get ready to dock and open fire on any naval ships in the area and to begin our wonderful life of pillaging, plundering, etc etc." mallick said with a wicked smile. "it time to see what this hunk of junk can do" he said seeing as how this was a new ship on its maiden voyage and he hasnt quite broken it in yet.

::Graciana steered her ship at her computerized helm. Her ship was her greatest treasure, completely moulded to look like a gallant ship of days long gone. Underneath the glorious facade of history there lurked deadly and powerful secrets. The most up-to-date technology lay hidden even within the antique look-alike cannons. Nights like these, she simply cruised to admire the sleekness of her ship, the svelte beauty from the carved mermaid figurehead to the gleaming stern. Even her crow's nest was equipped with a minature laser cannon and telescopic lenses that could view things pristinely up to 5 parsecs away.::

::Graciana was on course by Aurion, Jareniid's last moon. She was floating free. She didn't really know which one of her pleasures was greater: cruising open space on clear nights, or the fire of her lover's arms. Her only crew member, Zenth, was a steadfast, strong and devastatingly handsome man. They had met years ago during a raid on another ship. Graciana had killed his other three crewmates, and invited him to join her. Her beauty had chamred him, so he did. They sailed together now.::

James stood in the bridge of the CCJ supply ship, silently, watching the great void of space, a void that reflected his own mind. When he was on a mission, nothing got in the way, there was no thought, there was only a goal, and reaction. The mission always came first...
"Sssir?" An attendant came up to him. He was nervous, not surprising, given James' lethal reputation. "The captain sent me to see if you need anything."
James made no reply.
"Sir?" James slowly turned to the attendant, his gaze cold and unfeeling.
"No." The attendant scurried away like a scared rodent. James lifted his sleeve and looked at his watch. In a matter of minutes the ship would be out of sight range of the research station, and the moon would disrupt any communications sent by the vessel, essentially leaving it stranded for a window of nearly twenty minutes. If he knew his quarry, and he did, they would strike then. And he would be waiting.
James turned around abruptly, his trenchcoat trailing behind his ominous figure. He stopped when he reached the tactical officer.
"Call battle stations, and begin evasive maneuvers. Now."

Mallick was in his quarters prepairing for attack when he got a subspace transmission.

"what could this be?" he said as he read it. "hm....this could be fairly interesting" mallick said with a snicker as he walked onto the bridge of the blue destiny. "ensign, full stop, turn this bucket of bolts around and head towards the moon" he commanded.

"the moon? but why, theres plenty o' loot at the port we're heading to" ensign trent said.

"you'll see when we get there ensign, now do it." mallick ordered as he stroked the patch on the middle of his uniform. with the command given, ensign trent pulled a massive u-turn and headed for the moon.

*As the Rio trapezed past it's adversary the enemy craft retaliated with it's own unique, non-damaging shot. Morrissey was the only one to hear it down in the computer room.
"Captain, I think something has hit us..." She commented faintly.
"Too small to be any interstellar debris, and too light to have been a from the outside of the ship." Morrissey reached above her head, her long, wiry finger stroking a few key switches to upload the damage status from the computer. "Everything's fine on the ship."

"Oi! Are they....throwing trash at us or something? That's way uncool!" Duraan screamed into his commlink. "Get ready, Sting! We'll give em something to throw trash at!" Duraan veered his ship again, readying quite a dangerous counter to the other ships harmless, playful game.

"Wait, Duraan!" Morrissey quickly snapped. "The transmitter's picked up something, supply ship incoming, powerful mounted weapon onboard, sounds like a keeper!" Morrissey gleefully jumped in her chair and clapped her hands together, this was something worth getting excited over, quickly pulling up data on the sector unearthed the truth that no ships had even been near it! This was great! The break they were looking for, the crew of the Rio hasn't had a successful loot in months! The salien relayed her navigational data to the cockpit, and with a sudden burst of both power and confidence, the Rio sped off in that direction.

Hours later, their ship had been repaired. Greny sat beside Driff, looking out from a window into space. Suddenly, a ring was heard within the control system. Being the first to look down, Greny spoke.
"Sir, you have a message."
Driff read it, smiling at what had popped into his mind. He giggled anxiously, almost immediatly setting in a course in the Nav Systems. Greny had not read the message, he remained with a perplexed expression, staring at Driff's joyous exterior.
"What is it sir?"
"Looks like we're heading to Aurion. Gotta little adventure in store for us."

The rats flew from the torpedo tube with pathetic force, but it was damned ammusing to Alex. He chuckled to himself as he charged the laser cannons fully; but all of the sudden the other ship simply up and flew away. Alex growled in frustration. Come on! We havn't had any more sport than rats for weeks! Before they exited sight range, Alex fired a bolt from either laser cannon. His aim was good, and the chance was great that the fleeing ship would get an assfull of laser, but two bolts wern't enough to stop a fleeing ship. Before the lasers were ready to fire again, they ship would be long gone. Dismally, Alex shut down his little room and exited into the dark ship; lights in the areas of the ship not in direct use were deactivated during combat, both to keep power use at a maximum and to direct the crew's attention to where it was needed.

"What the fuck cap'n! What a bunch of cowards over there! I swear, next time we see them I'm gonna enjoy ejecting their asses into the big black."

After his tirade, Alex realized that no one was listening. The crew was intently focused on something happening on the monitor.

Taris looked at the monitor, gesturing with her non-metal arm for McEnroe to come see what was there. Liberdade Rebellion, as usual, had hired the traditional she-woman to do the begging and pleading. The voice that spoke in the message was one that Taris would have associated with the term "waif". It was pathetic, really, trying to use male hormones to the Rebellion's advantage. In fact, once the important things were said, Taris muted the audio, and just looked at the coordinates. That was...that was near Jareniid, where she grew up. Also where she...no, she didn't want to think about that. The past was past, and nothing could change it, just as nothing could change the metal replacing flesh in her arm. Still, this was an offer that no one on this ship could refuse. She set the ship on autopilot for the moment, plugging in the coordinates. She then turned in her seat to face the others.

"Well, if they're going our way, McEnroe, I wouldn't think you'd have a problem following through on that threat." Taris said, one of her metal digits tapping the monitor lightly. "Looks like we've got a job to do. Big freighter, evidently some sort of big whoop-dee-doo laser on it. Now, I'd take the time to let us all have an election on whether or not we go after this, but let's face it, we haven't had anything better to do than shoot rats out our cannons at unsuspecting ships all day, and our food and fuel stores are getting low. Looks like it's around Jareniid, too, which means we might be able to find some smaller jobs. So we're taking this job, end of story. You can complain once we're sitting on a bright," she cringed at the word, "white sanded beach getting waited on hand and foot."

The Manix runner began to lift away from Jareniid without the usual explosion of sound normally associated with a ship entering into escape-orbit velocity. Tycho's slender fingers danced over the extremly delicate controls of the gravity manipulation device that gave the Manix an edge in many battles. The controls would be rather hard to work for a human, but Tycho's fingers with their many joints made it simple. The ship lifted into the upper atmosphere of the city-world by repelling itself away from the massive gravity signature of the planet, allowing the Manix to "sail" on the planet's gravity (or any other object's gravity) if it were close enough.

When the dull grey image of Jareniid no longer filled Tycho's view when he would look back he cut the power to the gravity manipulation device (called Gravity Gun by the ship's crew, although it wasn't actually a 'gun' at all) and crawled along the wall of the cockpit onto the 'floor'. Because both Tycho Korrain and Malkuth were capable of climbing walls and other surfaces due to their respective races the interior of the ship gave little regard to up or down. The design of inside of the ship was also rather cavernous, offering little open space and a web of corridors that one might manage to get lost in. Tycho dropped a hand on Malkuth's broad shoulder and instructed him to take over controls and kick in the normal engines as he moved towards the ship's computer, imbedded into the wall just 'benieth' the gravity gun controls. The computer was already on with the message from the Liberdade on the monitor. Because of the Manix Runner's reputation for aiding the Liberdade they were considered a fringe unit of their patchwork military, so messages were given the highest priority on the ship's computer. He let a smile that would terrorfy anyone acustomed to seeing the smile of a human, the curve of the mouth and appearance of his teeth seemed just human enough to send a shiver down their spines creep onto his face when he saw the girl appear pleading for help "Hey, Malkuth, Sheela's on the main computer. Ahh, she must miss me if she sent this to us with a holo of herself. I felt something starting between us back in Larenthead before she ran off."

As Tycho read the report he began to become frustrated, they were almost at their destination to rescue the Liberdade prisoners but now they gave him this proposition? He didn't want to have to make this choice, and was about to confur with Malkuth before he read the coordinates and became even more upset than before. The coordinates were exactly the same. The coordinates for the prisoner rescue and supply shipment were exactly the same, and the sight of the icy white moon Aurion was just appearing outside of the duraglass cockpit. "Malkuth, something's wrong. Some sort of trap.. or a mixup..or something. Be on your guard, keep a close eye out, I'll see if I can get the sensors to detect any ships. We can't be the only pirates with these coordinates, send out hails and see if any stories about the coordinates match up." With that order short range communication signals were sent out with contact information from The Manix Runner requesting conferance with any nearby pirate vessels. Tycho skittered up the 'wall' of the cockpit and his delicate fingers began dancing over controls, checking sensors and preparing the ship's weapons systems.

With no landmark, indeed, no land, to affix the sight upon, hyperjump travelling was very much like not moving, with one distinct difference; when you cease not moving, you are in the same spot you were in before. When you come out of a hyperjump, you are so far from your original location that the "fastest" ship ever built would take longer to get there than it would take to build a civilization to Roman magnificence up from proto-humans. The magic lies in the wonderful concept of the wormhole. The analogy of the apple is prevalent; if a worm bores through an apple, it takes a good deal less time to reach the other end than it would to squirm its way around the circumference. Just so with interplanetary travel, except that it is not simply matter being bored through, but reality itself. At least, this was how it had been explained at one point to Alex. He never could quite wrap his brain arround the concept, and found himself with a headache and just above no time gone out of that that he still needed to kill.

To make the time go by faster, Alex dug out of his drawer a book; his favorite, and an antique given to him after his first pirate "family" had raided a freighter carrying rare items to an auction. It was a particularily rich moment for the group, and the monetary loss of not selling the book was offset easily by the other rare artifacts obtained, and the gift was well appreciated by the much younger Alex. He flipped it open to his last position in the fantasy world, marked by a simple bookmark consisting of a thin strip of metal, slightly scored around the edges, that had come off of the ship sometime between its arrival into the port in which he had joined them and Alex's addition to the roster.

Opening his prize book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Alex delved into the world that was so familliar in its rediculousness. He had always identified with the Tin Man, as so many viewed his lot as heartless brigands, when in fact they were quite gentle-natured (himself, at any rate), and forced into a lifestyle that they did not choose. The rust had been cleared away, thanks to this crew, the infusion of newness into his life, and he was ready to search for that heart again. He would tell others, of course, that he was searching the spaceways for riches, and they would not be surprised to hear it as much as they would if he spoke the truth. He was traveling the universe not in small part to "find" himself, using his pirating as a form of soul-searching. If he struck it rich, Alex suspected that he would not remain a pirate for long, wanting only to retire to a nice, sunny planet where he could spend the rest of his life and be happy. Even he laughed at him when he pondered such things, and he shook his head ammusedly, realizing that whatever plans he had, it didn't much matter. He wouldn't be striking it that rich any time soon. Even this new job would be a normal paycheck, nothing more.