Silas turned to the just-arrived Ducaelia with faint grin, "No, no. That we don't."
Ducaelia emanated a kind of captivating mannerism, all though her motions and the way she spoke brought out a form of sly contentedness. It made Silas wonder at times if her behavior was that of a charming and beguiling nature or if it was an honest complexion of hers. Her card trick she pulled on him the first time they’d met still resonated a strong reminiscence.
"Madlock and his crew don’t have an ‘alive’ requirement on contract and sure as hell not in any of their bounties. Everyone wants them off the face of the universe. That being said, nothing dramatic I'm afraid. I'm perfectly satisfied with putting a bullet into each of those bastard's heads. Right between the eyes," Silas only briefly glanced at the slender Vandrell, immersing into her posture and expression, "However, if the circumstances call for a bloodier demise... Well, whom am I say otherwise?”
With the point having been made and with their meeting essentially completed, he was eager to get back to the Legion’s End, "The clock is ticking, as you’ve put it. We're on a time table and I do not plan on letting our gathered quarry to get away."
---
"What are you trying to pull?! You call that, a cleaning?"
Cyne glared at a frightened Maklata technician while holding the small and meek alien native up by his collar and pinning him against the innerior hull of the Legion’s End. The Maklata as they were called, are a native species to Noctus IV and were first, and unfortunately, discovered by space-faring pirates. The rat like aliens typically only stood at a bipedal height of over four feet tall with some exceptions of their species reaching five feet. It is unknown to most newcomers of Noctus IV if the Maklata’s hunched-over posture was natural to their kind before the pirates came or it that was the result of their enslavement and poor treatment. Whatever the case, the species currently were seen as push overs with only a small chunk of the Maklata on Noctus IV leading successful lives. Successful however for the Maklata’s could feasibly be measured to their adopted honesty or lack thereof.
The unfortunate rat in Cyne’s tight grip has been caught by Sven, gimping out on a nano-remedy job that Silas has requisitioned upon arrival. The job entailed using a carbon-based mass condensed into a hexagonal form where a grey, chrome-appearing solution was then applied, in this case the Legion’s End’s hull, via a nozzle that coats a layer of the goop onto the armored surface. Any scrapes or gouges that were dug into the hull were quickly filled and the solidified through a mass-conversion process, melding and integrating the substances with the surface. The outcome resulted in in the apparent vanishing of any damage that had been seemingly dealt. Like a brand-new finish. And the Maklata attending to this task only applied a sliver of what should have been applied to have the intended effect. Sven most of all was furious about the lackluster effort and siced Cyne on the alien rodent before he could scamper off
"We gave you job; paid you in full, and we expect you to fulfill it," bellowed Cyne as he drove his angry face close to the quivering Maklata. The alien, unsurprisingly due to their rat-like appearance, also smelled like one. Cyne was disgusted and it showed though his irritated expression, making him all the more angrier, “so I suggest you get your rear back on that machine and do it all over again. Correctly. Got it?”
The Maklata frantically shook his head up and down, too scared to squeak a word of confirmation. Satified, Cyne released his grip and pulled back in one swift and cool motion. The alien fell to the floor on its rear, peeping a grunt before flying off to complete his work proper. Cyne narrowed his eyes at the shaken Maklata before taping the comms, “yeah, he got the message."
"Anything I miss?"
Cyne swung around to find Silas standing only several feet behind him, "Nothing much, other than that gremlin trying to undercut a job. That should be now handled; at least the shipment went smoother. Gerad is due to be back soon last time he reported in. Not sure where Gaz is though. He hasn’t been responding."
Silas sighed, "how much longer until the cleaning is done?"
"About another hour?" Cyne finally then noticed Ducaelia standing beside his boss. Suddenly, he then knew what Silas had meant earlier, “oh, hi Ducaelia.”
"In that case, once we're spiffy-lookin' again, we're departing; with or without Gaz."
It was rare that Cyne was ever caught off guard verbally. He simply blinked, genuinely surprised regarding that last remark, "that's… surprisingly blunt. Harsh even. Even for you, boss."
It was no surprise that Silas, despite being capable embracing a hard and commanding demeanor, it had a soft spot for his comrades-in-arms. Abandoning his teammates was something he wouldn’t tolerate. Not to anything doing it or himself for that matter. The no-man-left-behind attitude was engraved into his mentality, not only as a former SSA soldier but as a fellow mercenary as well. However, the circumstances were now different, and it was hard for him to accept this act as an exception, regardless if it was being casted against unpopularly labeled individual in the group, "We're on a time table Cyne, and I will not waste it on a goose chase. I've went over our mission schedule and we're cutting it close as is."
Cyne simply stared at Silas before turning back towards his post, “Yessir."
---
As it turned out Gaz never came back and not a word from him either. Mixed feelings filled the ship regarding this strange fact. Some were pleased about the Fungai’s unannounced departure while others were, perhaps not saddened, but were left pondering about the new vacancy and the loss of undeniably powerful asset to the team. Maybe Gaz felt that his time was best served against the Hive. It would’ve made sense given his eagerness to fight them once more. Nevertheless, he was gone now and with is unattendance, the simply had to adapt now. Just like always.
The trip to Precolis took about a few hours less than Silas had previously anticipated. Good. Despite carefully planning out the operation, it was good that these, pleasant, miscalculations occurred to serve his agenda better. This only meant that they didn’t necessarily have to hastily kill their targets but instead, plan out which to kill first.
"Aaaaaannnd we're here.” Sven timely stated just as the Legion End emerged back into real, “about twenty minutes before we land. Just hoping those resistance guys down there have a decent landing zone for us."
Precolis was originally an independent world, and a successful one at that. That was until the Apocalypse showed up and made the Precolis government, now dismantled and gutted, regret not having sided with any of the more powerful and influential interstellar powers. Each of the ‘Four Hoursemen’ had carried out numerous operations all over the planet, each eroding the government and its society in done to the core; each in their own sickening way. Apparently one of the four, War, as Korman Deval went by, approached the Precolis government with a security contract offered through the use of his personal PMC, albeit under a different name. After arranging several extortions and shifting accusations onto regional military leaders and senators, Death; Jason Madlock descended into the scene resulting in the sudden disappearances and deaths of many politicians, further destabilizing governing control and influence over the regional districts. Then came Pulov Gorcht, know as Famine, introducing a new wave of narcotics into the streets of Procolis unopposed as the planetary government a century before had managed to purge drugs almost completely from society. And finally, Conquest, Sheva Lasminee, sent forth her forces to cause anarchy and claim Procolis’ citizens as part of here ever-growing slave trade.
It was no wonder why there were so many bounties posted foe the Horsemen’s heads.
"Right, better were get this over with now while we got some time left," said Silas before he exited the bridge and assembled the team at the hanger.
Once everyone had assembled, Silas summoned up a holovid, showing the virtual busts of each member of the Apocalypse criminal syndicate with each face following a long list of crimes and specialties, “We got four marks this time, each with a personal army of crooks and mercs at their disposal. Typically, these Horsemen tend to operate separately, usually causing their own form of chaos right after the other before moving on to another target. As it so happens, they have a scheduled meeting on this very world, within the same city; right where we want them.”
Silas then dialed a command into the holovid control, causing the virtual screen to shift into the at of a city map with an array of nodes indicating the location of each syndicate member, “the problem we have however is that we can’t hit them all at the same time, not when they are congregated and have all of their forces combined. Instead, we’ll be aiming to eliminate each member one by one. Normally this too would also be risky however we have been given the guarantee by local resistance members that communications between each organizational head will be cut to avoid suspicion and allowing us to keep the Horseman right where we want them.”
“With that said, now we have to chose which one to kill first,” Silas attention then shifted to Ducaelia, “since some of us are not to well versed with the syndicate other than what has been reported, would it be kind of you to introduce us to Jason Madlock?”
Ducaelia emanated a kind of captivating mannerism, all though her motions and the way she spoke brought out a form of sly contentedness. It made Silas wonder at times if her behavior was that of a charming and beguiling nature or if it was an honest complexion of hers. Her card trick she pulled on him the first time they’d met still resonated a strong reminiscence.
"Madlock and his crew don’t have an ‘alive’ requirement on contract and sure as hell not in any of their bounties. Everyone wants them off the face of the universe. That being said, nothing dramatic I'm afraid. I'm perfectly satisfied with putting a bullet into each of those bastard's heads. Right between the eyes," Silas only briefly glanced at the slender Vandrell, immersing into her posture and expression, "However, if the circumstances call for a bloodier demise... Well, whom am I say otherwise?”
With the point having been made and with their meeting essentially completed, he was eager to get back to the Legion’s End, "The clock is ticking, as you’ve put it. We're on a time table and I do not plan on letting our gathered quarry to get away."
---
"What are you trying to pull?! You call that, a cleaning?"
Cyne glared at a frightened Maklata technician while holding the small and meek alien native up by his collar and pinning him against the innerior hull of the Legion’s End. The Maklata as they were called, are a native species to Noctus IV and were first, and unfortunately, discovered by space-faring pirates. The rat like aliens typically only stood at a bipedal height of over four feet tall with some exceptions of their species reaching five feet. It is unknown to most newcomers of Noctus IV if the Maklata’s hunched-over posture was natural to their kind before the pirates came or it that was the result of their enslavement and poor treatment. Whatever the case, the species currently were seen as push overs with only a small chunk of the Maklata on Noctus IV leading successful lives. Successful however for the Maklata’s could feasibly be measured to their adopted honesty or lack thereof.
The unfortunate rat in Cyne’s tight grip has been caught by Sven, gimping out on a nano-remedy job that Silas has requisitioned upon arrival. The job entailed using a carbon-based mass condensed into a hexagonal form where a grey, chrome-appearing solution was then applied, in this case the Legion’s End’s hull, via a nozzle that coats a layer of the goop onto the armored surface. Any scrapes or gouges that were dug into the hull were quickly filled and the solidified through a mass-conversion process, melding and integrating the substances with the surface. The outcome resulted in in the apparent vanishing of any damage that had been seemingly dealt. Like a brand-new finish. And the Maklata attending to this task only applied a sliver of what should have been applied to have the intended effect. Sven most of all was furious about the lackluster effort and siced Cyne on the alien rodent before he could scamper off
"We gave you job; paid you in full, and we expect you to fulfill it," bellowed Cyne as he drove his angry face close to the quivering Maklata. The alien, unsurprisingly due to their rat-like appearance, also smelled like one. Cyne was disgusted and it showed though his irritated expression, making him all the more angrier, “so I suggest you get your rear back on that machine and do it all over again. Correctly. Got it?”
The Maklata frantically shook his head up and down, too scared to squeak a word of confirmation. Satified, Cyne released his grip and pulled back in one swift and cool motion. The alien fell to the floor on its rear, peeping a grunt before flying off to complete his work proper. Cyne narrowed his eyes at the shaken Maklata before taping the comms, “yeah, he got the message."
"Anything I miss?"
Cyne swung around to find Silas standing only several feet behind him, "Nothing much, other than that gremlin trying to undercut a job. That should be now handled; at least the shipment went smoother. Gerad is due to be back soon last time he reported in. Not sure where Gaz is though. He hasn’t been responding."
Silas sighed, "how much longer until the cleaning is done?"
"About another hour?" Cyne finally then noticed Ducaelia standing beside his boss. Suddenly, he then knew what Silas had meant earlier, “oh, hi Ducaelia.”
"In that case, once we're spiffy-lookin' again, we're departing; with or without Gaz."
It was rare that Cyne was ever caught off guard verbally. He simply blinked, genuinely surprised regarding that last remark, "that's… surprisingly blunt. Harsh even. Even for you, boss."
It was no surprise that Silas, despite being capable embracing a hard and commanding demeanor, it had a soft spot for his comrades-in-arms. Abandoning his teammates was something he wouldn’t tolerate. Not to anything doing it or himself for that matter. The no-man-left-behind attitude was engraved into his mentality, not only as a former SSA soldier but as a fellow mercenary as well. However, the circumstances were now different, and it was hard for him to accept this act as an exception, regardless if it was being casted against unpopularly labeled individual in the group, "We're on a time table Cyne, and I will not waste it on a goose chase. I've went over our mission schedule and we're cutting it close as is."
Cyne simply stared at Silas before turning back towards his post, “Yessir."
---
As it turned out Gaz never came back and not a word from him either. Mixed feelings filled the ship regarding this strange fact. Some were pleased about the Fungai’s unannounced departure while others were, perhaps not saddened, but were left pondering about the new vacancy and the loss of undeniably powerful asset to the team. Maybe Gaz felt that his time was best served against the Hive. It would’ve made sense given his eagerness to fight them once more. Nevertheless, he was gone now and with is unattendance, the simply had to adapt now. Just like always.
The trip to Precolis took about a few hours less than Silas had previously anticipated. Good. Despite carefully planning out the operation, it was good that these, pleasant, miscalculations occurred to serve his agenda better. This only meant that they didn’t necessarily have to hastily kill their targets but instead, plan out which to kill first.
"Aaaaaannnd we're here.” Sven timely stated just as the Legion End emerged back into real, “about twenty minutes before we land. Just hoping those resistance guys down there have a decent landing zone for us."
Precolis was originally an independent world, and a successful one at that. That was until the Apocalypse showed up and made the Precolis government, now dismantled and gutted, regret not having sided with any of the more powerful and influential interstellar powers. Each of the ‘Four Hoursemen’ had carried out numerous operations all over the planet, each eroding the government and its society in done to the core; each in their own sickening way. Apparently one of the four, War, as Korman Deval went by, approached the Precolis government with a security contract offered through the use of his personal PMC, albeit under a different name. After arranging several extortions and shifting accusations onto regional military leaders and senators, Death; Jason Madlock descended into the scene resulting in the sudden disappearances and deaths of many politicians, further destabilizing governing control and influence over the regional districts. Then came Pulov Gorcht, know as Famine, introducing a new wave of narcotics into the streets of Procolis unopposed as the planetary government a century before had managed to purge drugs almost completely from society. And finally, Conquest, Sheva Lasminee, sent forth her forces to cause anarchy and claim Procolis’ citizens as part of here ever-growing slave trade.
It was no wonder why there were so many bounties posted foe the Horsemen’s heads.
"Right, better were get this over with now while we got some time left," said Silas before he exited the bridge and assembled the team at the hanger.
Once everyone had assembled, Silas summoned up a holovid, showing the virtual busts of each member of the Apocalypse criminal syndicate with each face following a long list of crimes and specialties, “We got four marks this time, each with a personal army of crooks and mercs at their disposal. Typically, these Horsemen tend to operate separately, usually causing their own form of chaos right after the other before moving on to another target. As it so happens, they have a scheduled meeting on this very world, within the same city; right where we want them.”
Silas then dialed a command into the holovid control, causing the virtual screen to shift into the at of a city map with an array of nodes indicating the location of each syndicate member, “the problem we have however is that we can’t hit them all at the same time, not when they are congregated and have all of their forces combined. Instead, we’ll be aiming to eliminate each member one by one. Normally this too would also be risky however we have been given the guarantee by local resistance members that communications between each organizational head will be cut to avoid suspicion and allowing us to keep the Horseman right where we want them.”
“With that said, now we have to chose which one to kill first,” Silas attention then shifted to Ducaelia, “since some of us are not to well versed with the syndicate other than what has been reported, would it be kind of you to introduce us to Jason Madlock?”