[BESM] IC -- Sicilian Sonata

Nexusvoid · Post by **Nexusvoid** » Thu Jan 02, 2003 6:19 am

Undisclosed Location
Island-city of New Sicily
Ganymede, Jupiter Orbit
December 11th, 2071

Sweat beaded up and ran down the back of Jimmy Findel’s neck as he carefully turned the dial on face of the composite safe he’d been brought here to crack. Though long out-dated, the ancient dial still proved to be a challenge.

“Come on, Jimmy, yer takin’ too gawd’amn long,” a voice hissed from behind him. “If we’s seen here when that patrol comes back dere’s here gonna be hell ta pay.”

“This isn’t easy work,” Jimmy replied through clenched teeth. “Despite its age, this lock is one tough nut. Whoever built this thing knew his stuff.”

And he knew he was right. After all, he was the best locksmith and safecracker in the solar system, and that was why his services had been required this job, or so they told him. The safe weighed in at 5 tons and was made of a blast-resistant composite. Everything about it screamed state of the art. Everything, that was, except for the locking mechanism. Newer locks used sophisticated electronics and magnetic mechanisms where this one used dials, gears, and tumblers. Why anyone could have wanted something so outdated was beyond Jimmy, but asking why wasn’t part of his job.

With a slight click, inaudible to the human ear, but easily heard through Jimmy’s sound enhancement gear, the safe unlocked. Swinging it open, Jimmy took a quick inventory of what was inside before his partner and watchdog for the operation, Rich DeVic came over and shoved him back.

“Lootin’ ain’t your job, that’s my part,” DeVic said with a smirk as he gathered up the papers and assorted boxes inside. He stuffed them into a nylon duffel bag and tossed it to Jimmy. “’ere, carry this.”

With that, DeVic slid the final item from the safe – a red leather suitcase. From the way DeVic’s weight shifted when he hefted it from the safe, Jimmy could tell it must have had a good amount of something in it.

When he was content with the way everything looked, DeVic turned to Jimmy.

“You don’ goot Jimmy. Real goot. You may see dis ‘through to da end.”

With that he nodded, and they both slid out the door.

Nexusvoid · Post by **Nexusvoid** » Thu Jan 02, 2003 7:55 am

Spaceship Lycaon
High Orbit over Mars
December 15th, 2071

The last decent bounty hasn’t been for weeks and the food and fuel stores are running low. The situation isn’t to the point of poverty or running on fumes yet, but it will be unless the crew of the Lycaon land a big one sometime soon. The crew is off doing various things when the unmistakable opening notes of the Big Shot theme song echo through the ship. Following the title eye-catch, the image of the hosts, Punch and Judy materialize on the screen. As usual, Punch starts off in his mock-western voice.

“Amigo!” he screams at the viewers, oblivious to the near-cracking of his voice.

“How’re all you 300,000 bounty hunters in the solar system?”

A sharp contrast to Punch’s attempted cowboy voice is that of Judy’s. She continues in her typical saccharine-sweet tone “It’s time for Big Shot! The show that brings you information about fugitives!”

No sooner has her voice trailed off than Punch is already speaking again. The customary “Today’s Menu” board pops up on screen quickly followed by two punctual gunshots.

“First up today is our biggest bounty in months!”

The screen flashes to a mocked-up mug shot of a plain-looking guy. For the most part, he’s non-descript, and could easily fit in anywhere. His hair is greasy black and tussled, looking as if it hasn’t seen a comb in weeks. His mouth draws a thin line under a blunted nose and cold gray eyes that bear the dark circles of an insomniac. His skin is pale, but not to the point that he looks sickly. As for build, from what the bust shot shows, he is of slight build, but by no means cut. He is wearing a brown leather bomber jacket and white t-shirt in the shot. His vital stats are listed as follows.

ID: E08228SSB
Race: Caucasian
Height: 6 Feet, 1 Inch (est)
Weight: 160 Pounds (est)
Age: 37 (est)

“This hombre is James “The Fiddler” Findel. He’s known as an ace locksmith and all-around tough guy. He has known connections to one of the Sicilian syndicates on Ganymede and is wanted for cracking a safe in a government office and stealing the contents, as well as the deaths of several security guards at the site!”

“The Fiddler? Is he a musician, too, or something?” Judy cuts in with her usual bubble-headed commentary.

Always the serious one, Punch answers. “I don’t know, but they say that they call him that because of his lack of sympathy for his victims!”

Confused, Judy stares at Punch. “But… if he shows no sympathy, why would they say he plays th…”

Quickly, and before Judy can become more inquisitive, Punch cuts in. “How about you tell our viewers – all 300,000 of them! – how much today’s bounty is worth!”

Judy’s nose has scrunched up as though she was in deep though, but she quickly regains her composure. “Whether he plays music or not, The Fiddler is worth 19,000,000 woolongs!

“And on top of that, a double bonus is awarded if you recover a suitcase he was last seen carrying!” she exclaims as the words $$DOUBLE BONUS$$ flash across the bottom of the screen.

Both of their eyes widen and they speak as one, and as though neither knew the reward until just now. “WOW!”

“The conditions are as always, but with one change,” the now-roped Punch says as an extra is pushing him off the set, “As usual, the fugitive must be brought in alive, but this time he must be delivered to the San Fernandino prison on New Sicily to collect your reward.”

“And remember,” Judy says, trying to act distraught, “if you kill him, kiss your reward good-bye.”

Punch, now back at the center of the set goes on. “This is the biggest bounty we’ve had in awhile, so good luck, and do your best!”

Together, Punch and Judy sign off.

“Bye y’all!”

The image winks out and is replaced by a commercial for some orbital casino. The cabin is silent as any of the crew present were stunned into silence by the figures of the reward.

Judy and Punch were right, this is the biggest bounty the crew has seen in months, and 19 million – or even 38 million for the double bonus! – is a lot of woolings. While it seems extraordinarily high for the crimes listed, and it may be too good to be true, it also may be too good to be passed up, and the ride to Jupiter’s orbit isn’t that long.

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Thu Jan 02, 2003 7:37 pm

The oldster Shao gently pushed away from his console aboard the sleek, night-black Manta. His oversized sand-colored cargo pants and orange-white hawaiian shirt rippled quietly in the miniscule gravity, exposing a thatch of grey-white chest hair.

"G'wan, that many semolians will make things really smooth. I hope the kids are up for a little snatch and grab about Jupiter."

He floats down the hatchway, headed toward the quarters, looking for his two shipmates.

Stick · Post by **Stick** » Fri Jan 03, 2003 3:32 am

Stick is sprawled on the couch with the TV on mute in the Lycoan's ward room. Dressed in jeans, wife-beater t-shirt. And snoring.

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Sat Jan 04, 2003 5:08 am

The orange flame briefly illuminates Marshall's broken, scarred visage as the end of his cigarette flares. It takes him a moment to realize that Shao is talking to him. His hearing is never the best when the acetylene torch is repairing the last remaining structural damage to the Manta from their last "bounty call."

"What are you babbling on about now, old man? Oh shit. Please tell me you're not watching that damn bubble gum cowboy and her idiot sidekick again. I just got the struts repaired from the last "easy money" job we took. You never did tell me how that guy managed to lock onto the Manta with his autogun anyway. Are you listening, old man?"

It takes even longer for Marshall to realize, as well, that his hands have been burned by grabbing onto the heated section of the struts as he was moving them, before they had properly cooled. "Fuck. Eye's going to kill me for seeping on the controls again." He nudges the last support to make sure it will hold, and turns off the torch, stowing the repair gear. With that taken care of, he slides his leather jacket back on, puffing away on his cigarette as he makes his way to the cockpit of the Manta. He takes out the medkit and begins working on his hands, as he looks over at Shao, waiting for the verbal assault to begin.

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Sat Jan 04, 2003 9:50 am

Theoretically, the soundproofing of bays is substansial to isolate the noise from the rest of the ship. Theorectically, the soundproofing shouldn't be trying to dampen racing engines. But since it was, and the soundproofing wasn't, Artemis didn't hear Eye over the high pitched whine of The Pergrine 4-7's primary boost system, followed shortly by the roar of the main engine firing once.

The crew often joked about taking on someone else, seeing as how she rarely actually used her quarters, spending all her time in the bay with the small racer/gunship or other things that needed fixing. The past near month has been worse than usual however with o bounties to chase and not much to do. The fact that she actually opened the door after the engine cut out was amazing, as it was the first time she'd been out in 4 days. The blinking messgae light had recorded Eye's comminication.

The tan mechanics jumpsuit pants were stained with grease, as well as the jacket tied around her waist and the pink tank top. She herself didn't look too much better with grease smears on her face and her silver grey hair having mostly escaped her usual braid. Grabbing a soda on her way through, she went up to the observation deck.

"So what's up?"

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Tue Jan 07, 2003 8:25 am

Eye blinks.

Shutting off the terminal, he laboriously gets out of the captain's seat on the Lycaon's bridge, metal buckles clicking and aching joints groaning aloud. Uneven steps ring out as heavy metal-capped black boots tap the floor, headed towards the main corridor.

"Too generous. Either the case is their real objective or the better part of the prize is simply buffer for combat pay. No go."

As he makes his ponderous way up to the observation deck, Eye takes out his datapad and begins to check some figures.

"...under allowed parameters. Fuel Reserves 23%. Offensive Capability 57%. Ration Mode encouraged until..."

The observation deck of the Lycaon, retaining the full glory of its cruise ship days, opens up all around Eye as the thin mountain of black slowly takes his place on one of the central comfort chairs. The breathtaking spectacle of stars slowly drifting by overhead dutifully ignored for the umpteenth time, the veteran puts down his datapad on the holographical projection table, the latter currently reflecting upon its surface a lovely cosmic dance of galaxies and nebulae. The click of metal against reinforced plastic is soon accompanied by quiet pads creeping towards the resting cowboy.

Eye reaches inside his coat with his good arm, offering a dry treat to the thin black cat slinking its way up to the armrest of the occupied chair. As the feline takes a moment to enjoy its snack, the middle-aged bounty hunter takes out a small communicator bearing a logo now only seen over the older parts of the ship.

A message rings out around the Lycaon, espousing a dry, serious tone. "All hands to the observation deck. Crew meeting."

Eye puts away the communicator, lost in thought and rubbing his aching knee.

"Might as well begin preparations. He won't take no for an answer."

Stick · Post by **Stick** » Wed Jan 08, 2003 12:31 am

Stick wakes with a start, "GOD DAMN I hate that AI."

Stick stands and slowly starts making his way to observation deck. A lean man, his brown hair is hanging around his shoulders, and not in it's customary ponytail.

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Wed Jan 08, 2003 10:29 pm

"What are you babbling on about now, old man? Oh shit. Please tell me you're not watching that damn bubble gum cowboy and her idiot sidekick again. I just got the struts repaired from the last "easy money" job we took. You never did tell me how that guy managed to lock onto the Manta with his autogun anyway. Are you listening, old man?"

Shao is grim as he replies to the younger hunter, "He managed his lock because you couldn't keep your hands to your damn self. This ship is and always has been invisible if she's stationary. But a flyboy just can't abide stillness can he?"

The oldster inclines his head toward one of the many speakers about the ship, "Eye, we acknowledge. We'll set telepresence in ten minutes. Shao out." The AI would rifle through the frequencies, set an agreement with the AI of the Lycaon and make the rest of the necessary calculations.

"Listen up Marshall. There's tens of millions of bounty on this one and subtelty is the one thing we can really depend on. So let those burned fingers you just got be a reminder, pay attention and control yourself."

He flipped end for end, a graceful shape of fluttering clothing and tan skin and tap-kicked a panel, flying effortlesly back toward the main consoles.

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Thu Jan 09, 2003 1:26 am

Eye lets Shao's reply settle in the air for a moment before taking out the communicator once again, clicking it to the Manta's preferred linkup. "Acknowledged. Jeeves will let you into your usual cargo bay when the time comes; for now, he'll pipe you through. Eye out."

Turning to Artemis, he motions toward a seat. "Shao and Marshall should be with us soon one way or the other and Stick is in all likelihood on his way. We'll begin once everyone's here."

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Fri Jan 10, 2003 6:53 am

Cazmonster wrote:Shao is grim as he replies to the younger hunter, "He managed his lock because you couldn't keep your hands to your damn self. This ship is and always has been invisible if she's stationary. But a flyboy just can't abide stillness can he?"

"Listen up Marshall. There's tens of millions of bounty on this one and subtelty is the one thing we can really depend on. So let those burned fingers you just got be a reminder, pay attention and control yourself."

The scarred warrior rises slowly from his seated position, watching Shao float away. He then stares intently at his hands as he finishes wrapping them. I remember the last time they were wrapped, covered in blood...and it wasn't my own. It was his. He shakes his head quickly, slowly pulling his immense frame through the the narrow passage ways of the Manta, retreating to the rear cargo bay. The young cowboy grabs the heavy trunk that stores his pistols and repair supplies. Once again, floating the crate in front of him, until he reaches the open area behind the cockpit, he begins to strip and clean his sidearms. It's the only calming activity he has to pass the time, since his bike is on the Lycaeon. Whispering to himself, he has no idea if Shao is near enough to hear him. He murmurs to himself as he fumbles and lights another cigarette. "One of these days, grandfather, you'll be right. I'll put my hands on the wrong thing again. I won't feel what I'm touching, and once again, I'll crush the life from it."

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Mon Jan 13, 2003 9:38 am

After a short telepresence discussion, they had decided to have an in-depth discussion aboard the Lycaon. Shao fed the commands to the Manta's AI and collected the few things he would need for the meeting.

The smooth, night-black Manta settles into the yawning bay of the Lycaon. The signal intelligence ship folds articulated wing-arrays and computer-controlled umbilicals snake out and attach to the appropriate ports. Shao runs a dry brown hand over the cowling of the main AI interface with a feeling of pride.

"You're a good boat. Thanks for the easy ride."

The Manta burbled back a series of electronic chirps and multicolored lights.

* * * * * *

The old man grumbled as he carried his weight with a drift-wood staff. It had been at least three weeks since he had been under full gravity. His garish orange hawaiian shirt hung loosely around his narrow chest and shoulders and his home-made sandals slapped against the floor. He moved along the corridor, following Jeeves' easy voice, until he found the main conference room. There, he nodded to Eye, Artemis and Stick and moved to the side to allow the mountainous Marshall access to the room.

"So, thirty eight million," he began.

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Tue Jan 14, 2003 6:18 am

"Thirty eight million isn't enough for this one, grandpa. It's a chump job. You know, I know, hell, even Sticks there knows it." The scarred living wall that is Marshall steps into the room behind Shao. He's already armed, as he always is when Eye or Shao is exposed. "We need this fuckwit alive, which is difficulty number one. Difficulty number two is the fact that every cowboy in the known systems will be on this bruhah's tail, i.e. our tail. Problem number three, is that it's a job for the olive oils. Doing business with them has one result....your ass in the nearest open airlock without an environmental suit." Being his usual tactful self, Marshall settles his heavy gaze on Shao first, then Eye. "But we're going to do it, aren't we? Let me guess...we need the money. Or is this another one of those 'favor for a friend of a friend' jobs? 'Cause if it is, I'm going to need to pick up some more ammo." With his signature leather jacket with the Fallen Angel's Wings on the back, Lucifer lights his first cigarette of the meeting, ashing into his battered tin cup that also contains the coffee he is currently gulping down.

Stick · Post by **Stick** » Tue Jan 14, 2003 11:02 pm

Stick looks over at Marshall, "For once I'm in agreement, I don't suppose anyone has asked what government building they stole it from?"

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Wed Jan 15, 2003 3:08 pm

Artemis simply looked at Shao. "So where are we heading, and who am I letting pick me up now?" It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, but yet guys, and a few women, kept falling for it. A pretty girl, a chance meeting, a few drinks, and a tiny recorder gathered a lot of good information.

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Wed Jan 15, 2003 5:31 pm

Eye nods to all present, his gaze remaining on Shao for the better part of the proceedings. He then looks to everyone, the fingers of his good hand rapping on the table.

"Thirty eight million."

"This pricetag means the big boys will be involved every step of the way. Since we're taking this assignment - because there's little way to avoid it - we should prepare for both illegal and pseudolegal opposition." Eye nods to Marshall. "I've seen lesser bounties incite cowboys to spill one another's blood over the prize and this should be no exception. Our reputation and standing leaves us with little choice; we're going in and coming back with James one way or another."

Eye leans back, slowly working out the crinks in his neck. "But first, direction." Looking at Stick, he takes out his datapad and begins punching buttons methodically. "The origin of the suitcase must be established, as that'll give us an insight into why he obtained it and who else contracted him to do so. Few people would attract such attention for their own sake, so it's to be assumed he's either a fall guy or inside a very deep pocket."

He then turns to Artemis. "If our own intelligence nets fail to catch any leads, this is where you'll come in. Once we know James' motivation, we'll be able to predict his reactions. Without this information, we'll be left grasping at straws."

Eye lingeringly gets up, slowly making his way to the large terminal on a nearby wall. He brings it out of sleep mode, setting it to replay the information on James Findel.

The veteran cowboy turns back around, his gaze touching upon the dim lighting, deserted seats and resource warnings routinely snaking their way across the other sleeping terminals. "Once this is over, I believe a party might be in order."

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Mon Jan 20, 2003 5:20 am

Shao's face went steely for a moment at Marshal's words, then a confident look of serenity groomed over the zen garden of his face. He nodded in turn to the other speakers, waiting his turn.

"A party, in a well-secured place, sounds like an excellent idea. Of course, we'll be doing it with additional luxury goods after we top off the holds of both the Lycaon and the Manta. I'd rather we not eat cake when we can't afford bread."

The oldster rose gently to his feet, hiding his frailty behind careful movement. "I believe I can shed some light on our target. First off, the only bullets you will need, boy, are the ones that punctuate your impatience. Second, "The Fiddler" is not the kind of fool who kills unnecessarily. If he happens to be working on behalf of the Ganymede syndicate, they will be most displeased with the publicity. Third, I'm certain that many of the Punch and Judy faithful can be directed toward one another, giving us some latitude."

He turned his head toward the beautiful young pilot, "I am sure that your "talents" will serve in good stead. But for now, keep your flightsuit zipped, we need a first rate pilot to plot us a course."

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Mon Jan 20, 2003 7:55 am

"You know me, Shao, I'll always take a hot engine over any man." Artemis grinned as she flirted with the old man. "Excepting you, of course." Whatever his company had been before, it was obvious it hadn't been young women. "Just tell me where to start."

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Tue Jan 28, 2003 4:55 am

Shao sighed briefly, momentarily distracted by Artemis, then returns to the topic. "So, we should begin with research, while Marshall and Artemis make sure the ships are ready for anything we may have to put them through. I will be making a few screen-calls. Please, let's all focus on the bounty and what else it could mean."

With that, the old spacer nodded toward his companions and went to access a comm panel, arranging notes from memory about the Ganymede Sindicate and the circumchronal governments.

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Tue Jan 28, 2003 8:45 am

"Sure old man. Put the big lug on spacer kitchen duty. He doesn't mind. Just don't complain when I shoot this Guido in the leg. He can lose a leg and still live." Knowing that Shao will be ignoring him, instead focusing on the job as he always does rather than the human mountain's dark sense of humor, Lucifer turns away from the crew, only making eye contact with Eye long enough to let him know his displeasure with both taking the assignment and the fact that he'll have to work with Artemis. She's a fucking tramp, and a pretty one at that. I hate pretty things. Especially whores.

Putting on the closest thing that resembles a happy face for him, he waits for the female pilot. "Ladies first...or at least that's what Grandpa over there tells me I'm supposed to say." This little biff here wouldn't last two seconds back on the block. Slits in the front nothing...only ever trust a brother.

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Wed Jan 29, 2003 12:13 am

Artemis eyed Lucifer speculativly and sighed. It wasn't her place to ask, but he always seemed in such a bad mood. "Hey, you're only allowed to call me a lady if I'm playing dress up, remember? Guys get stupid with 'ladies' around, and I ain't aiming to work with idiots." Catching up to the much larger man she continued down the hallway. "Your call, what do you wanna checkout first?"

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Sat Feb 01, 2003 5:59 am

Wildfire wrote:Artemis eyed Lucifer speculativly and sighed. It wasn't her place to ask, but he always seemed in such a bad mood. "Hey, you're only allowed to call me a lady if I'm playing dress up, remember? Guys get stupid with 'ladies' around, and I ain't aiming to work with idiots." Catching up to the much larger man she continued down the hallway. "Your call, what do you wanna checkout first?"

The walking human mountain sighs quietly. "A pine box for Shao? Oh...right, you meant the ships." He tries his best to grin widely at Artemis, which probably comes out looking a bit more like scar tissue moving on in its own to form some kind of oddly shaped hideous crescent moon. "No offense, but knowing how anal you are about your ship, I think we'll do that one last. I won't touch anything, I'll just lug the ammo about." He chuckles, trying to keep the mood light. Shao and Eye will beat me silly if they find out I'm not 'interacting more positively' with the crew.

Humor has never really worked for Marshall. He was never very funny, and rarely found much to laugh about in most jokes told back on the block, be it in the neighborhood or the cell block. Few people could ever understand how he found humor in embarassing or painful deaths, or by the pain he inflicted on others. How could a man who has so obviously seen the damage life can cause find suffering so hilarious? Because I'm a psychotic asshole, that's why. A psychotic asshole who keeps talking to himself.

"We should probably check the Manta first, and make sure all the repairs and seals are in the green. We can double check the loadout and pick up any kind of miscellaneous supplies Shao may need. I figure we can split then, let you double check the engines on the Lycaeon, while I double check the ammo on the secondary gun and the charge on the main deck gun. Swing back around and I'll let you lead as we cover Stick's and your bird. Make sense, or did I just let that welding torch put out too many fumes?" The giant's shoulders seem to shake slightly, denoting laughter, or perhaps a silent cough racking his frame as he puffs away on his stubby cigarette.

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Sat Feb 01, 2003 6:24 am

Artemis put her hands behind her head as Marshall talked. "Sounds like a plan, mon ami" she replied giving him a thumbs up and a grin. "I wonder how much much of that reward we can scam for parts that aren't older than me. 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it' is all nice in theory, but I'm afraid to even look at some this gear wrong, ya know?"

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Sun Feb 02, 2003 8:12 am

The man-made mountain stops for a moment, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the corridor. Looking over at Artemis for a moment, he mutters towards her. "You might want to move out of the way. I gotta stretch." Waiting until the female pilot has put some distance between the two of them, Lucifer shrugs off his jacket. This happens to reveal his massive frame, and the white, stretched wife beater that seems to constantly be on his person. As he turns his back towards her and extends his arms, the upper quarter of the wings of the Fallen Angel tattoo on his back is very easily visible. As is the barcode on the back of his neck, which proves the rumors of his time spent in the Slam true.

With two quick jackmamer bursts, Marshall pounds his fists into the ceiling plating several times. Finishing off his quick burst of energy with two powerful sidekicks to both walls, he stops to make sure there is no damage or dents on the plating. Sheepishly turn back to the jock, he shrugs. "I get keyed up real easy. Gotta take the edge off for a big guy like me, before working with this delicate shit. Sorry...I don't usually do that with people watching. I'm not an easy sight on the eyes." Turning his young scarred face from her field of vision, Marshall keeps his back to Artemis as he slips back into his Lucifer garb, and lights another of his seemingly neverending cigarettes, field stripping the last butt and stowing it in his jacket pocket. "Okay, let's do this thing now. Sorry." He keeps his face low and out of sight, as much as that is possible for the giant, hoping the redness of his face is hidden by the scars.

Jesus Marshall. Quit trying to impress her you idiot! But I'd be glad to let her walk in front of me anytime. Nice view. The old man would kill me, if he could read my mind now. He'd be telling me to keep my mind on business. The thunk of his forehead bouncing off a low hanging frame as they pass through the airlock to the docking bays reminds Marshall that the world is always on Shao's side. Well shit.

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Sun Feb 02, 2003 8:41 am

"Zero sweat, everybody's got their twitches." Christ he's strong...could snap me like a micro-strut She cleared her throat and tried not to think of him being in the employ of someone other than Shao, much less specific somebodys. "And none of this 'sorry' shit, neither. If I was looking for a pretty face, you think I'd be with the old man?" She winced at the audiable clang of Marshall walking into frame. "Uh, duck?"

Stick · Post by **Stick** » Sun Feb 02, 2003 10:10 pm

Stick levers himself up, and follows Marshall and Artemis out, and briefly pauses turning to Eye, "I'll hit the net, and see what I can find on that building. Anything else?"

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Mon Feb 03, 2003 8:37 pm

Shao spoke over his shoulder, still arranging things on a lighted screen, "You could also start snooping into where the money is moving in the area. I'm sure a man of your talent can let us know if there's been anything big moving through the financial cartels in the past few weeks."

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Mon Feb 03, 2003 11:43 pm

Eye nods to Stick, laboriously getting up to pace across the room. "That'll do. If you find yourself out of places to look, start researching money launderers; it'll come to them one way or another."

"I believe it's time for me to make some arrangements myself. We'll see if any of my old friends caught wind of this latest bit of sicilian skullduggery."

The middle-aged bounty hunter reaches the end of the observation deck, his irregular pace making its way to his suite and office. "Notify me once the repairs and check-ups are done; I'll likely have to meet some people face to face."

TBC slinks its way around the legs of tables, chairs and people alike, gently tagging along as its companion heads down the dimly-lit corridor.

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Thu Feb 06, 2003 6:53 am

The time passes quickly as the pair easily finish off the final checks on the Manta and stock the storage holds on the spy ship in just under two hours. The next hour is spent separately checking the Lycaeon's main and secondary gun for Marshall as Artemis starts to work on the two fightercraft of the crew's. As the giant thug of the crew strides back into the bay, he actually has a smile on his face and even seems to be humming an offbeat tune from an ancient Earth rock song. As Artemis struggles with the heavy manifold plating for her ship, two massive hands appear and easily slide it back into place. Marshall holds it as the jock secures the plating.

The remaining three hours pass easily, as the exhausted pair collapse into separate chairs in the lounge room nearest the bays. "We make a pretty good team there, jockey. Not bad for a girl, not bad at all." Marshall puts on his best impression of a beaming grin, as he dodges the inevitable thrown object. His long reach comes in handy as he holds out his battered pack of cigarettes, offering one to the mechanic. "Shao would probably be patting my head right, like a good little dog. I didn't dent anything and managed to smile to another crew member. That's a big day for me." He chuckles, as he leans back, tired to the bone, but that wonderful kind of exhaustion that comes from a successful day of physical labor. He puffs away idly on his cigarette as he realizes that this "tramp who wouldn't survive two seconds on the street" managed to teach him more than a few things about fighter turbines today. "If only all the mechanics I worked with were beautiful young women with something going on upstairs, instead of hairy old geezers, I might pay more attention when Shao is lecturing me on the damage high-G manuevers can cause to the secondary manifold plating."

The former street goon smiles as best he can, wondering silently to himself if sticking around with this crew isn't such a bad idea. Especially with such a pretty face and a set of....brains like she's got. This might not turn out half bad....if I didn't look like the thing from the Black Lagoon and I wasn't talking to myself or living in Nevernever land. Wake up fuckhead. The giant shakes his head slightly, spraying hot ash on his skin, but not even noticing as he takes a sip from a nearby water bottle to provide a distraction and poorly attempted cover for his "zone-out."

Wildfire · Post by **Wildfire** » Fri Feb 07, 2003 1:43 am

Artemis half-heartedly tossed a random bottle at Marshall that missed widely. "Yeah, I throw like a girl, shuddap." Waving off the offer of a cigarette she fished a bottle of painkillers out of her jumpsuit. She shrugged as she searched through the veritable forest of bottles of vitamin drink looking for one with something left in it. "Eh, Shao's an okay guy, I mean he's still alive, says something for him. Just think his view of the world kinda got stuck a couple a decades ago, ya know?"

Coming up empty on the bottles, she dry swallowed the two pills. "Better safe than sorry and all. As for young female mechanics, its all about the revolving door. They come in, get all stupid over some flashy pilot, get themselves knocked up before their first season is done, get kicked out at the next planet, and that's that, next season its starts all over again. I'm hardly the best, but I'm the best without a brat," she grinned.

Nexusvoid · Post by **Nexusvoid** » Sun Mar 30, 2003 7:53 am

Stick works laboriously for an hour or two trying to find any information pertaining to the crime. Though wading through the neon- and icon-filled universe of the SSW (Solar System Web) yields a good amount of information pertaining to the crime, little other than the basic details of the crime are available. Unfortunately, the police report is not yet public domain due to the crime having happened so recently. One of the big oddities that stands out to Stick as he analyzes what he come up with is the obvious lack of public statements from agencies involved. Neither the ISSP nor the local government have yet released a statement, where in the past they almost always have. It seems that everyone’s keeping what information they have close to their chest, at least officially.

What seems like a dismal outlook becomes a bit brighter, however, when Stick decides to cross-check James Findel and safecracking/locksmithing. A small bit of space is reserved for a business called “James Findel: Locksmith – Safecracker.” Though the occupation of locksmith is quite common, that of the commercial safecracker is not. Often called in when someone loses the keys or combination to a safe, these men are few and far between, especially in this age of electronic and magnetic fail-safes.

The site is completely gone when Stick goes to look for more info, though it seems not long-gone, as a quick check of cached copies and the domain registration quickly yields an address in New Sicily on Ganymede. Stick deduces that if this is a coincidence or a plant, it’s quite convincing, and possibly worth a look.

In the meantime, Shao is sitting at the communications panel, wracking his brain and making calls to anyone he thinks may have a bit of information. Though exchanging pleasantries and chatting up old acquaintances and rivals bring back some nice memories, it only yields a few leads. One opinion shared by many of his contacts, however, stands out quite a bit. They say that this case is not what it seems by a long shot, and getting too close may be quite a risk. They don’t add anything else, but they do offer up a few names of people on Ganymede that may be more helpful.

Following up on this new list brings a few more hints of information, some deduced by Shao himself. Many of the people seem to be on edge and very wary of giving out what info they have. Often they inquire as to whom Shao is working for, and almost always assume that he is with one of the Euro syndicates. Most of them hint at tensions within the European syndicates, and within those on Ganymede specifically. Even the “legal” types – an ISSP detective and a private investigator – hint at there being more than meets the eye, even going insofar as to suggest meddling by the syndicates. When all is said and done, one name remains on the list, that being Leo Carpazzio, a footman for the Giovanni family and an informant Shao has used at least once before.

Eye is having relatively the same results as Shao in his endeavors. While his contacts don’t seem to know much about what’s going on, they seem to be of the same opinion of Shao’s – everything is not as it seems. They claim to not know any more, and are noticeably sincere when they say so. Nonetheless, many seem to think that the way everything is going down and the timeframe just feel wrong.

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Thu Apr 03, 2003 6:52 am

"Mister Carpazzio, all too soon, you and I will have to speak. But not here, not now. I think a more intimate setting will be in order. The rest of the old Euros are thick like fleas on a sick dog over on Ganymede. There's a big event coming and it's going to happen out here."

Shao stretched after his many and varied screen-calls. His old bones and tired muscles needed more activity, even in half-grav, and protested with decades-old pain. He moved with slow grace toward Eye's chambers to pow-wow and add up what he had found.

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Wed Apr 09, 2003 4:36 am

Eye sat in his chair, a glass of wine sitting nearly untouched on his desk as the computer panel listed data after data after data on too many things to keep track of. Reclining, the old cowboy rubbed his temples with his good hand, pondering the day's unravelings. No doubt actual physical investigation would be required to get to the bottom of this... perhaps the youngsters would have their day in the sun.

Stroking TBC, Eye turned his attention to the door as it opened.

"What's your verdict?"

Stick · Post by **Stick** » Wed Apr 09, 2003 11:31 am

Stick walks and leans in the door, "What's my verdict, this stinks like 3 day old meat. I've found everything I can on the net, and that's even suspect."

Stick detaches from the wall, and starts towards the galley, "I'm going to get a drink, want something old timer?"

Cazmonster · Post by **Cazmonster** » Tue Apr 15, 2003 10:08 pm

Shao moved with the grace of an old spacer, conserving his energy. He half-drifted behind Stick and spoke, "Yes, this is going to be most difficult, given the number of players involved. However, this is still nothing that cannot be overcome, and the monetary rewards are more than worth our time and effort here."

He waved idly toward command and control. "I suggest we get underway with dispatch. The more time we spend outside of events on Ganymede, the cloudier our vision will be."

Havoc · Post by **Havoc** » Sun Apr 27, 2003 3:08 am

Eye gingerly stood up, his good hand cradling the scarcely-touched glass.

"Time to get this show on the road, then."

Putting one foot in front of the other ponderously, the cowboy left his abode and continued down the hall, headed toward the bridge. "We'll get moving at once and set up our battle plan on the way. If we attack from as many sides as we can at once, the word about our hunt won't get out as quickly. Might as well make sure we're getting the straight facts before corruption sets in."

Jeff Hauze · Post by **Jeff Hauze** » Wed Apr 30, 2003 5:08 pm

Lucifer shrugs off his jacket once again, and groans, touching one of the intercom control buttons on the nearby wall, using his long reach to his advantage. "Yo! Old Men! The bays are stocked, and the craft ready to go. Me and the Techie here got everything in order. Even got the weapons for this big cruiseliner checked and rechecked. What now, oh Fearless Grey-Haired Leaders?"

The human mountain chuckles for a moment, leading into a body wracking cough that results in him spitting his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. After several hits from a nearby water bottle, Lucifer visibly relaxes, closing his eyes to focus on his breathing for a few moments, while waiting for the inevitable response.

[BESM] IC -- Sicilian Sonata

[BESM] IC -- Sicilian Sonata

38 Million Reasons