POOHEAD189

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

"Once we make it to where we're going, I'll give you the full info. But as it stands, it's a big one." He said vaguely, taking a moment to consider what he should really tell her. So far their partnership had been from happenstance and then convenience, and he was still iffy with traveling with someone, even if he deemed her reliable. Maybe it wouldn't be a poor decision to have a limited partnership, and she was admittedly competent at what she did. "There's a small-time, large world named Catarxes in the Sigma Draconis system. We need to get a man named Decartes Maggred. Alive is not preferred. It's a head hunt."

Those were the honest, basic facts. If Jocasta knew the world or even the system, she could guess the gist of it. The Terran "Empire" if one could call the loose collection of human controlled worlds, was spread the farthest it had ever been, which in the grand scheme of things, wasn't very far. The furthest inhabited outpost was thirty light years from earth, and Sigma Draconis was known as a 'frontier' system, around nineteen light years away. Out there, one could get away with most anything, and it was where a lot of people went to get lost. The planetary rulers tended to be oligarchs and petty kings or suzerins, lording it over varying dukes and provincial barons of what habitable planets there were in a techno-fuedal, decentralized monarchy.

"We'll need to play it smart. There are a lot of guns on that world, and little love for hunters." He said.

What he didn't tell her was Decartes Maggred was the wildcard son of a powerful baron, and a contract had gone out for his head because of a scandal Medartes (the father) was apart of that led to the death of a prominent tradesman's son. An eye for an eye, it seemed. Not that Decartes was an innocent by any stretch of the imagination. His itinerary had shown he had done things for free that Dirk would need to be paid handsomely to even consider. That was what he kept out until they got to whatever hotel Jocasta found fitting. What he wasn't going to tell her was he didn't get the information from the source. He had taken care of a loose end and killed Manikard, someone he used to consider an old friend before he betrayed him and led him to the bounty with little information and a competitor there to hinder him. The fact it was Jocasta who was now helping him wasn't the issue. Manikard had sworn he would get Dirk a good one with no complications, and Dirk had found he had been working with the men after him. But now only Jocasta and he had this contract, and no one else in the galaxy did except the patron and Volkavax technically. And if they pulled this off, they would be privvy to more bounties from higher bidders. Maybe teaming up with Jocasta wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

On the display, the moon 'Balyan' was growing more visible. Sub-light engines had grown quite sophisticated, but the Dragonfly still moved quick for even a regular starship. Once they twisted around the moon, the gravity helped slingshot the engines, and it was thanks to the light and sparse, but spacious design of the craft that helped them move. It had only been a couple of hours.

"Sweet ride," He complimented idly, clearly speaking to Jocasta, but it drew the attention of the AI who's name he hadn't bothered to catch. She popped back up on as a hologram, wearing Jocasta's kit, blurring for a second as the design was muddled, switching from Dirk's sexualized version again for a short moment before solidifying in Jocasta's attire, albeit with an exposed midriff and no pants.

"Thanks, sailor." She crooned, but when she noticed he wasn't even looking her way, she gave a groan of annoyance. Jocasta rolled her eyes and redirected her back to her regular activities so they could prep for a landing.

The Sunday Group

I'm giving a post within a day!

After 5 years, I am back. And it is great.

@Aiyanna Lovely to meet you! We might have spoken before, and if we have, it's good to see you again :)

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

Dirk emerged from out of the crowd, his DMX heavy blaster sliding back into his holster, having waited long enough to let the heat from its barrel dissipate. He shouldered past a Terudian slaver, the indicator on his helm singling out and scanning every weapon, schematics listing across his visor to the left of his vision. The AI in his helm actively differentiating what weapons in its sight could or could not penetrate his armor, compartmentalizing them from minimal, moderate, to major threats. Insignias of gangs and cults were integrated and accumulated into his feed, and he took the information without changing his stride. Dirk was so used to the scanner that he could read a novel and still hold his own in a firefight if he had to.

On the display, Jocasta's face was cropped and enlarged so he could see her annoyed and impatient expression in full view. He could tell she was wary, but it seemed all the information he had just gained along with the feed on his helm took up just enough of his attention not to warrant worry for the moment.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought." He said, his tone neutral as ever. There was no hint in his voice on his secret desires or motivations when he spoke other than when truly pressed or threatening someone, leaving every decision entirely up to Jocasta unless specified. He did notice her looking over her shoulder when she approached, but even if there was a problem, he was going to appear casual. "We've got a job, if you still want to work together."

"That's great, but if we go we need to go now." She said in a whisper, brushing away a thick wave of her hair. He didn't reply immediately, just looked at her. It was enough to keep her talking. "I think your friends are still after you."

"And you still want the job?"

"They already saw me with you. Not much choice," she reasoned with a shrug. He took that as a yes, and grabbed her by the arm, guiding her away from their current position, back towards where he had the meeting. Her arm was stiff, obviously unaccustomed to being led in such a way. "You don't need to grab me," She said dangerously, pulling away. He let go, giving her and their surroundings a glance. The toughs around them were too busy with their own conversations to really notice their talk, smoking and swapping rumors or trading weapons to dealers. He looked down the corridor, not seeing any pursuit yet. The men after him must have been paid an enormous sum to try and take his head in Volkavax's tower.

"I'm leading us out of here. Stay close then."

"As long as we're going somewhere I can get a bath." She said as Dirk placed a hand on the wall, a small rectangular section lighting up briefly at the spot his hand had pressed, opening a small door the two stepped within, drawing the attention of a few vagabonds with dumb expressions on their faces. They grew even more confused when the door closed and the wall appeared unmarred, as if a door had never been. Once they were in the Dragonfly, there were countless hotels on the planet to find, or even on an adjacent planet, but they couldn't stay here.

The Pavonis Campaign - Warhammer 40000

The high rise in the earth behind the Ork mass were barren save for a few shootah boys who were unceremoniously rammed from behind and trampled into the wet soil as the caravan of OSV's burst into the xeno's view. The engines revved and a few of the vehicles got a good amount of air, not slowing a bit, the men in the seats bouncing, holding on for dear life even as the lasguns began to crack and the enormously loud pounding of the stubbers filled the air. Orks fell by the dozen, thick green bodies now scorched from lasburns or filled with apple sized holes as they tried to get their bearings. Zeb knew Orks did not route as easily as traitors or other xenos, for when the unit collapsed, they were still individual warriors that rarely backed down from a scrap.

That's why Zeb had briefed the men to hit the biggest and loudest Orks. Every break in the chain, every dismantling shot to the WAAAGH effect took away their courage. The vehicles broke apart, forming a perimeter as the horde scattered to try and better hit the guardsmen. A few burly Orks with choppas launched themselves in front of vehicles, potentially sacrificing themselves to disrupt the OSV's trajectory and send them flying. It worked on one, launching two of the brave men off their seats into the mass of xenos to be hacked away, blood spraying into the air. The driver was strapped, regaining his senses as he found himself waking up in a vehicle on its side. The man operating the heavy stubber had been shot, his corpse leaning against the still firing gun as it went wild.

Normally Zeb would have tossed a frag or krak at the downed vehicle, to stop the rampant firing and destroy any approaching Orks, but the driver who was very much alive unhooked his seatbelt and grabbed for a shotgun. Zeb recognized him.

"Rikkerd!" He cried, flipping the firing mode of his lasgun to full auto, pointing at the downed OSV with his free hand. "Hagmen! Over there!"

Across the gulley, two explosions rang out, sending vehicle parts and greenskin limbs across the battlefield. Every death hit Zeb like a Commissar bullet to the skull, but it was clear their blitzkrieg, mobility, and heavy weaponry were killing seven orks for every guardsman. If they kept up the heat, they would send them to hell. Zeb pulled the trigger on his lasgun, bright crimson flashes filled his vision as they bit and then punched into the neck and shoulder of an ork that was charging at Rikkard, cutting down the legs of another xenos that followed it. Grimdal swiveled the heavy stubber to where the sergeant had indicated, uncomfortably aware there were only forty eight more rounds in the gun. He pressed both triggers on the mounted machinegun and cut through a swathe of greenskin's tramping over to Rikkerd's position, the guardsman taking cover behind the glass windshield of the vehicle and firing his shortgun when applicable.

Across the battlefield, another OSV rounded the corner of the processing plant, approaching Rikkerd's position and hammering away at the orks, the two OSV's now performing a pincer move. The bullets and lasbolts relentlessly cut down the xenos, another OSV across the way hammering into a stumbling grouping of the xenos as a third had a guardsmen dropping frags like depth charges. Zeb's OSV skidded to a halt, spraying mud over the exhausted but very alive specialist Rikkerd.

"Get in!" Zeb cried, and as the specialist approached, he looked around tentatively.

"If that's an order sir, I will but...I think we're good." He said, lowering his shotgun. Zeb turned to look at the field, seeing the few dozen orks left now fleeing for the hills. May the God Emperor protect them, there were only five OSV's left. Less than a day and half of the men were dead. But they could claim they killed over twice their number of Orks, which was no small feat for non-astartes. Zeb winced, looking down at his shoulder to realize some shrapnel the length of a pencil had wedged itself into the meat of his upper arm. He grunted and pulled it out, pressing on the wound by bunching his uniform up against it and holding it there.

"Sergeant! Survivors over here!" A voice cried, Zeb turning to see one of the men at a sundered hole in the side of the plant. Hagman didn't need to be told to drive over.

Maverick Malediction

Neil extended the first fish to her, waiting patiently until she took it. As much as he felt she owed him, and as non-traditional as he tended to be, he was an old fashioned gentleman when it came to women. Particularly ones he was interested in. It was just lucky for the both of them that he had the dexterity to fish. Neil was a city dweller, unused to surviving in wilderness beyond a few tricks he had learned traveling from place to place. He was more comfortable stealing the necklace off someone's neck than the meal out of a bear's den, but at least he could make this little dwelling survivable.

"Aw, you noticed." He said jokingly. It seemed mean spirited, but his smile grew warm. He put another bundle of sticks into the flame, blowing on it gingerly. "You can make it up to me when you're well, and this time you can buy me dinner."

Once the fish were cooked, Calliope bit into the fish hungrily, but weakly. It was strange seeing her like this. He supposed a lot of people with dead friends, lovers, or relatives would have given their life savings to find her in a state like this. Noticing her lovely legs and bare shoulders, Neil could relate, though under different circumstances than in a dirt hole.

He bit into his fish, the meat stringy and a bit coarse, but Neil hadn't eaten in a day, it felt. The earthy scent of the hollow was strong, but his hungry body was now overwhelmed with the scent of cooked fish instead. The two ate in silence, too busy consuming their food to quip or discuss anything for the moment, When they needed to, they grabbed snow to drink. Neil reached over and felt Calliope's head, which caused her to flinch, but after the unexpected movement, she didn't pull away. He wondered if he would still have that hand attached if she could do what she was normally capable of.

"You did have a bigger fever for a few hours, but it seems like it's weakening," he commented.

"Not fast enough," she replied, feeling the subtleties and exhaustion from her magical battle. Neil barely knew medicine, much less magic. She seemed annoyed at the topic, and so he decided to change it. She huddled closer to the fire, warming her hands and face.

"By the way, promise you won't get excited," Neil started slowly, watching her gaze move up to meet his. "Two things. One, I don't know where we are, but while I was out, I did see a town a few miles away. Once we get warm enough we can try to get there. But two, and more importantly to you probably..."

Neil pulled the grimoire he retrieved out of his shirt, giving a sly smile.

Maverick Malediction

Chapter 2

---

Bania

General Knowledge/Info:

• Fantasy West Russia/Romania (with accents to match). Located over a thousand miles to the northwest of Kalx'Molaris
• Has the largest numbers of Vampire and Lycanthropes due to less sunlight and scattered villages. Many other monsters lurk in forests, particularly Ogres.
• Mountainous and forested, with some small plains. Less cavalry focused than Kislev, more woodsmen-style axemen.
• The only human nation to serve a non-human, an Elf queen made famous for the slaying of a Vampire 120 years ago. Queen Isabella.
• The Banian ethnicities/peoples: Brosk, Dunmas, Putnaks.
• Is somewhat liberal (in the big cities) on outlook on magic, with the extreme exception of blood magic/dark magic/necromancy.
• Worships Boernegar, God of Wilderness.
• Thinks all southerners are soft, and some wish for imperialistic expansion.

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

"They'd probably been planning it for months," Kaiden muttered, gazing out of the window into the hall. Herculaneum's fall must have been executed from the inside at nearly all levels of the administration, like Mithridates and the Asiatic Vespers of old earth. It must have taken an extreme amount of precision and discipline, which only made Kaiden even more wary of the Alliance's capability for subterfuge. If he wasn't absolutely certain of his crew's loyalty, he would be sweating cold.

What were they supposed to do? They could try and make it back to command, but could they do more good out in the boonies of K-12? Alliance forces were likely close, and he doubted the Delta-3-7 was useful for anything but resupply. They didn't wish to lead anyone here because it wasn't a very defensible cluster of asteroids. Every rock was thousands of kilometers apart, Higgs report he had given Kaiden had said. Belts could be good defensive measures, and only madmen or ambitious miners delved into them.

"Or insurgents," Kaiden mouthed, pondering.

The Delta-3-7 wasn't too far from the Sega Cluster, which, if he recalled correctly, was a dangerous lane for ships for more than just the rocks. Alliance insurgents turned pirate had taken up residence there, the Republic's main interest in their existence before the conflict was protecting their own shipping, but maybe they could use them to their advantage. They like as not held no love for the Republic, but chances are they loathed their previous government. Kaiden wasn't insane enough to try and recruit them into the military, but perhaps if he knew the Alliance shipping lanes, they might wreak some havoc before they themselves hit them hard.

"The what?" Sabatine asked, raising her head curiously.

"I need a map of the system, if at all possible. Lieutenant Rachet, do you have any information on Alliance routes close to the neighoring systems?" He inquired. Captain Rachet inclined his head thoughtfully, confusion on his face.

"Lieutenant, you're not planning on launching an attack with our relative strength, right?" He tried to confirm.

"If I was, you would do well not to question that." Kaiden reminded him, and the Captain gulped audibly. Kaiden was correct. During times of full-scale war, some more ornery or stern superiors might consider that insubordination. "As it stands, no. But we can't sit here and wait for orders. I want to know where the nearest alliance forces are."

"Unfortunately, sir, they are merely a quick jump away." Rachet replied. "Perhaps not the main body of any real force, but a small fleet is located at the Hytegero Sector, not a week's sail from Delta-3-7. They've begun to flourish in activity, so the Bureau has told me. They were surprised I made it in undetected, as they were about you. I don't think we should fight fate and try our luck thrice, but I'm with you whatever you decide, sir."

"What are you planning?" Sabatine asked. Kaiden would explain in detail, once he had that map.

New here, but not to Ring

Glad to have you here!

You can rise from the dead twice, right?

I recently moved to an island in the middle of the Pacific to live the paradise lifestyle. No longer a Masshole. I spend my days typing away at my little desk, in my little office, at my little corporate job. In my free time I search the island for the best ramen shops, roam the aisles of bookshops, roast my cheeks in the sun, or bust out the old dusty yugioh deck.

@Darkdesire

That sounds amazing.

Hi, been here for six years or so. Glad to have you back! Even if we probably never spoke. :)