Re: The Phenomenal Fracas! (GBS2G6): [Round Three: HMS Thunderhead]
06-27-2011, 03:55 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by MrGuy.
Few things, Ripper thought as she smashed an heiress’s head in, are more beautiful than the sight of blood on gold. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a great degree of gold here—most of the passengers carried paper money, or simply debit cards, though at least the former could still be jammed into the Core successfully.
She ripped the earrings off of her quarry and dropped them into the slot, where they normally would have resounded with a slight clunk. The fact that they didn’t might have worried Ripper under normal circumstances, but seeing as there was a riot going on, the pirate was rather focused on other things, such as the sniper round that buried itself in her mask mere centimeters from her skull. Blackmask took a deep breath, ducked behind a table, and checked the fuel gauge on her jetpack. 1/4. Need to find some more.
She looked around, not quite sure where one could find coal in a place like this; the pamphlet she’d stolen from engineering mentioned fuels she’d never heard of, and it was basically a guessing game to try and use them in a device designed for something completely different. Out of the corner of her eye, the pirate noticed a pair of bounty hunters running into the fray; six rounds of plasma to the face for each put a stop to that. Blackmask grabbed some more ammunition packs from their bodies, as well as a couple of grenades; she merely scowled at the fact that neither of them happened to be carrying rockets around.
She felt a stinging pain in the back of her neck. A small syringe had buried itself inside, but whatever its purpose, Ripper wasn’t feeling any different. She blinked and removed it as she looked around for whoever fired it. Short of breath, but nothin’ else. What kind of exhaust-headed fool shoots darts with nothin’ in ‘em?
The pirate locked eyes with a man in a labcoat; or, rather, would have, if not for the fact that the green goggles he wore obscured his eyes just as much as the mask obscured hers. That said, the man could be told from the rest of his face to be wearing an expression of absolute terror as the raider ran forward and swung the stunstick into his leg, fracturing a kneecap. She then slowly raised the gun and pointed it squarely at his head. She noticed he was wearing a wedding ring, and for one brief instant, Ripper Blackmask felt guilt.
Then, there was nothing but the sight of blood on gold.
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Matthew Gallagher smiled at the Captain. What made it all more chilling was the fact that it was not a madman’s smile—not a Cheshire grin, stretching as far as his muscles could bare, nor a wistful, distant smile, as if the sound of violence from below somehow reminded him of a pleasant childhood. It was the in-between smile of someone enjoying a joke, but not quite enough to laugh.
After all too long a pause, during which period Reed kept shuffling just slightly closer to his lieutenant, Gallagher spoke. “How long have I worked with you, Tiberius? Twelve years? And in your shadow for all that period. ‘The great Captain Reed, incorruptible and brave, they say he fought off a platoon of Verulians with his bare hands.’ It’s always the captain that gets the glory, isn’t it?”
Tiberius Reed tried and failed to bite his tongue. “Jealousy? Is this honestly what it’s all about, Matthew? Perhaps I should remind you that murder won’t get you a positive reputation.”
The security officer laughed and smoothed back his hair. “How naïve of you, Captain. I think you’ll find that throughout history it doesn’t matter what atrocities you’ve committed, so long as you win. And particularly thieves and murderers, even the very worst ones, are glorified after their deaths. Book after book, movie after movie where Jack the Ripper or Edward Teach or Genghis Khan makes an appearance. All the good heroes are either fictional, or forgotten. One or the other.” He pointed a gun directly at Reed’s heart. “I’ll go easy on you, Captain. I’ll be sure to tell my crew that you made some miraculous escape and gravely injured me, so that you can at least go down in history as my greatest rival, like you deserve.”
Reed stared calmly up at Gallagher as the latter slowly strode up to him, hand not even on the trigger, and kicked the weapon on the ground out of the captain’s grasp. “I bet you think I’m stupid, and didn’t see your movements.”
Captain Tiberius Reed gave a little shrug, then brought his fist directly into the security officer’s jaw. “Not at all. I think you’re stupid for giving me a monologue and then traipsing towards me, after not even bothering to tie me up. It seems appropriate, Matthew, that your desire for glory would lead you to act like a movie villain.”
Before a single additional word escaped Matthew Gallagher’s lips, Reed had taken his gun and blown the traitor’s head off. “Excellent ‘perfect heist.’ Now, the rest of us have a ship to land.”
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The syringe had not been empty. It had enough tranquilizer in it to drop a horse, and multiple calculations had shown that no matter how empowered by the Core Adrian O'Gearailt was, it would be enough to knock her out cold.
As she frantically swung an electrified baton at the trio of pirates rushing her, it became increasingly clear that she was not, in fact, unconscious. Two plasma shots went clean through her shoulder, and she shouted in pain as the blister there seared hot. She quickly fired off five shots in return, dropping two of her assailants and causing the third one to flee, before dumping a necklace into the golden pyramid.
The viscous orange ooze that normally came out of her blister was not there as it closed up again. Instead, a clump of thick olive sludge, tinted ever so slightly red, slowly oozed down her arm before spattering to the ground. Blackmask didn’t notice, merely looting the bodies before once again sitting down and catching her breath.
Few things, Ripper thought as she smashed an heiress’s head in, are more beautiful than the sight of blood on gold. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a great degree of gold here—most of the passengers carried paper money, or simply debit cards, though at least the former could still be jammed into the Core successfully.
She ripped the earrings off of her quarry and dropped them into the slot, where they normally would have resounded with a slight clunk. The fact that they didn’t might have worried Ripper under normal circumstances, but seeing as there was a riot going on, the pirate was rather focused on other things, such as the sniper round that buried itself in her mask mere centimeters from her skull. Blackmask took a deep breath, ducked behind a table, and checked the fuel gauge on her jetpack. 1/4. Need to find some more.
She looked around, not quite sure where one could find coal in a place like this; the pamphlet she’d stolen from engineering mentioned fuels she’d never heard of, and it was basically a guessing game to try and use them in a device designed for something completely different. Out of the corner of her eye, the pirate noticed a pair of bounty hunters running into the fray; six rounds of plasma to the face for each put a stop to that. Blackmask grabbed some more ammunition packs from their bodies, as well as a couple of grenades; she merely scowled at the fact that neither of them happened to be carrying rockets around.
She felt a stinging pain in the back of her neck. A small syringe had buried itself inside, but whatever its purpose, Ripper wasn’t feeling any different. She blinked and removed it as she looked around for whoever fired it. Short of breath, but nothin’ else. What kind of exhaust-headed fool shoots darts with nothin’ in ‘em?
The pirate locked eyes with a man in a labcoat; or, rather, would have, if not for the fact that the green goggles he wore obscured his eyes just as much as the mask obscured hers. That said, the man could be told from the rest of his face to be wearing an expression of absolute terror as the raider ran forward and swung the stunstick into his leg, fracturing a kneecap. She then slowly raised the gun and pointed it squarely at his head. She noticed he was wearing a wedding ring, and for one brief instant, Ripper Blackmask felt guilt.
Then, there was nothing but the sight of blood on gold.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Matthew Gallagher smiled at the Captain. What made it all more chilling was the fact that it was not a madman’s smile—not a Cheshire grin, stretching as far as his muscles could bare, nor a wistful, distant smile, as if the sound of violence from below somehow reminded him of a pleasant childhood. It was the in-between smile of someone enjoying a joke, but not quite enough to laugh.
After all too long a pause, during which period Reed kept shuffling just slightly closer to his lieutenant, Gallagher spoke. “How long have I worked with you, Tiberius? Twelve years? And in your shadow for all that period. ‘The great Captain Reed, incorruptible and brave, they say he fought off a platoon of Verulians with his bare hands.’ It’s always the captain that gets the glory, isn’t it?”
Tiberius Reed tried and failed to bite his tongue. “Jealousy? Is this honestly what it’s all about, Matthew? Perhaps I should remind you that murder won’t get you a positive reputation.”
The security officer laughed and smoothed back his hair. “How naïve of you, Captain. I think you’ll find that throughout history it doesn’t matter what atrocities you’ve committed, so long as you win. And particularly thieves and murderers, even the very worst ones, are glorified after their deaths. Book after book, movie after movie where Jack the Ripper or Edward Teach or Genghis Khan makes an appearance. All the good heroes are either fictional, or forgotten. One or the other.” He pointed a gun directly at Reed’s heart. “I’ll go easy on you, Captain. I’ll be sure to tell my crew that you made some miraculous escape and gravely injured me, so that you can at least go down in history as my greatest rival, like you deserve.”
Reed stared calmly up at Gallagher as the latter slowly strode up to him, hand not even on the trigger, and kicked the weapon on the ground out of the captain’s grasp. “I bet you think I’m stupid, and didn’t see your movements.”
Captain Tiberius Reed gave a little shrug, then brought his fist directly into the security officer’s jaw. “Not at all. I think you’re stupid for giving me a monologue and then traipsing towards me, after not even bothering to tie me up. It seems appropriate, Matthew, that your desire for glory would lead you to act like a movie villain.”
Before a single additional word escaped Matthew Gallagher’s lips, Reed had taken his gun and blown the traitor’s head off. “Excellent ‘perfect heist.’ Now, the rest of us have a ship to land.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The syringe had not been empty. It had enough tranquilizer in it to drop a horse, and multiple calculations had shown that no matter how empowered by the Core Adrian O'Gearailt was, it would be enough to knock her out cold.
As she frantically swung an electrified baton at the trio of pirates rushing her, it became increasingly clear that she was not, in fact, unconscious. Two plasma shots went clean through her shoulder, and she shouted in pain as the blister there seared hot. She quickly fired off five shots in return, dropping two of her assailants and causing the third one to flee, before dumping a necklace into the golden pyramid.
The viscous orange ooze that normally came out of her blister was not there as it closed up again. Instead, a clump of thick olive sludge, tinted ever so slightly red, slowly oozed down her arm before spattering to the ground. Blackmask didn’t notice, merely looting the bodies before once again sitting down and catching her breath.