(OOC: I'll try too keep this going. Don't know where it's heading towards though, But I've got some ideas. Tnx sS, coming from a writer I'm flattered )

The messages burnt in his pocket as he left the Freeport. For some reason he hadn’t destroyed the first one and had left to sudden to be able to destroy the second one. As he set course to the Manchester jumpgate he took out the first message and reached behind him and opened a small compartment. He put the two messages inside and closed it. The messages were now in a small and closed section of his cargohold. Besides the main cargohold almost every ship had a second, smaller compartment linked to the cockpit for storage of personal items. This compartment could also be emptied into space. With the flick of a switch and an almost unnoticeable hiss, the compartment opened and the messages were dumped into space.
With that off his chest he entered the tradelane to the jumpgate, not noticing the Dagger behind him retrieving in the messages.

The trip to Planet Curacao was relatively easy. Near Sheffield Station he witnessed a fight between the Bounty Hunters and a wing of optimistic Gaians, but as he had no quarrel with either of them he decided to stay out of it. As he entered Cortez he linked up with a transport convoy heading to California. It was something he used to do as much as possible as travelling alone was very dangerous, especially in the independent systems. And he liked the company. At Curacao he left the convoy and landed.

The landing part was terrible as always. After entering the atmosphere through the dockingring the trip went nose down for about ten kilometres, after which the autopilot set course for a wide circle to descent quietly to an altitude of about five kilometres which was the secondary cruise altitude. It didn’t keep the ship from generating a respectable amount of g-forces and Michael always felt a bit nauseous afterwards. The first time he actually threw up in the cockpit, which caused the communications panel to short-circuit, which caused quite a panic at the docking control tower, where every incoming ship had to report to.

At five kilometres the ship automatically set course for the main landing site. If Michael had wanted to land somewhere else, all he had to do was select a different site on his scanner and press the “land” button. But the main site was the one he wanted to be. The trip would take him a good fifteen minutes so he took the opportunity to look around at the magnificent surroundings. There were beautiful forests covering almost every piece of land, giant mountains standing tall, watching over the idyllic bays with pearly white beaches. A huge sea was stretching before him and for a moment he feared that there was no landing site at all. But then came over the horizon a large artificial island with the Majestic Hotel proudly in the centre. They had chosen their location well, as all ships which had just landed came in from the same direction as Michael, so they all witnessed the same impressive sight. The hotel was ten stories high and had two wings, one of them stretching into the ocean, with large pillars supporting it.
The building was slightly arched and the landing pad, which was just as impressive, was in the centre. Michael’s ship descended and gently touched down on the pad. As he stepped out into the hot air he was awaited by two men to carry his luggage. He had to disappoint them both. He looked around was once again impressed. The hotel was bigger from down on the landing site as it had appeared from the sky. It had furthermore a large dome which housed a huge garden where people could walk around in during bad weather or if they simply didn’t want to go ashore. Michael calmly strolled to the entrance of the hotel. He felt good being out in the open like this after spending almost a year in space and was determined to spend as much time in the sun as he could, even if it was just the ten minutes it took him to get from the landing site to the entrance of the hotel.

With a big smile on his face he entered the lobby where he was greeted by a nice looking girl. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail while her big brown eyes looked openly into the world Michael had just stepped into. Charmed as he was, he put on his best smile and walked up to the counter.

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” the girl said with a smile and Michael couldn’t help but smiling back.
“Good morning. I’m here to open a locker.”
“Which room?”

The question was quite obvious but it had surprised Michael.

“I don’t know actually.” He said feeling a bit awkward.
“Well that’s no problem, do you have a card?” she said with the same smile.
“Sure, here it is.” He answered and handed over the key-card he had taken out of the envelope. The girl stuck it into a small box and looked at a screen. She looked satisfied as she gave him back the card. For a minute their hands touched each other and their eyes crossed. But Michael had to control himself as this wasn’t the right time for this.
“Room 204.” She said and she let go of the card.
“Thank you.” He answered and with mixed feelings he walked to the elevator, looking back once, only to see that she was talking to another costumer. Maybe after this assignment he had enough credits to spend some time here, he needed a vacation anyway.

Room 204 was a small room with a bed for two people and a bathroom with only a shower. After a short search he found the locker in the closet. He opened it with the card and took out a small datapad. Out of curiosity he tried to access it, but it kept asking for an accesscode, which Michael didn’t have. So he put it in his pocket and left the room, taking a Liberty Ale out of the minibar. When he came back down in the lobby, the nice girl was gone. Probably on a break he assumed, but as he didn’t want to waste any time he headed over to his ship.

He didn’t expect to see the man waiting for him at his ship. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and a pair of worn down jeans. He threw the cigarette he was holding on the ground and walked over to Michael.

“Are you mister Armstrong?” the man wanted to know.
“What does it matter to you?” Michael countered the question.
“I believe you have some information that I want.”
“I don’t think I do.” Michael said who began to feel uncomfortable with the situation.
“Oh, I think you do. I think you came here to acquire some information which would be very valuable to us. It would be in your best interest to hand it over.” The man spoke calmly as if it concerned apples, but Michael knew that it wasn’t as innocent as he wanted it to be. Still he was reluctant to give up anything.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Very well mister Armstrong, but we will meet again.” The stranger turned around and walked away to the smallest building which was the repairshop. Michael watched him until he vanished behind the shop.

After shaking off the strange feeling he was left with he mounted his startracker and left the planet. There was no convoy to hook up with this time so he entered the tradelane all alone. When he was about halfway, the tradelane was disrupted and four Daggers targeted him.

Edited by - > Nickless < on 6/20/2004 4:24:36 PM

Another good installment.

Nick . . . when wil the next one come?

Nick now your making ME jealous (btw lots of old timers were on tonight if u werent on)

Edited by - Dragonborn on 6/29/2004 7:35:39 PM

lesh of the old-timersh, sh-sh-shonny..

..She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love...

lol taw i was talking about other people on frostworks level 2 mod *looks hurt* " i never said u were old....just....just.... ah crap forget it!!!!" j/k

*sigh* working on it guys, working on it.
and DB, I wont be on FW for a long while, but you might have noticed that by now. Doesn't interrest me anymore. I might return though.

On teh topic of the story, I worked myself in a dificult position because I'm right now at a point where I didn't actually want to be :S
But I'm working on a way out and I've forced myself to think of another story path. It'll be good I hope.
Coming soon...

(OOC: There, happy now? Now you got me typing all of this. When does it ever stop?! )

Lane Hackers. Michael cursed. They were among the better fighters around Liberty. Only Outcasts were probably nastier to fight. Michael quickly estimated his chances and remembered again why he hated tradelanes. The next ring was 7k away and he would never make it before the daggers blew him apart. Going back was no option either because the ring he came out off was still out of order. Unless someone else was coming to help him, he was toast.

“Mister Armstrong, would you be so kind as to follow us?” said the leader
“Uhm…follow you?”
“That’s what I said. Form up please.”

Michael shook his head. This was something completely unexpected. What could the Hackers possibly want from him? But as he didn’t really have any choice and as was actually a bit curious, he took up formation behind the wing of Daggers.

Carefully avoiding the asteroids the Hackers lead him to a large Rogue base. His scanner told him that it was the allusive Montezuma, the only Rogue base outside of Liberty. He had only heard rumours about the base and its function. Supposedly it was used for establishing connections to organisations in other houses.
Everyone knew that the Rogues had connections stretching into all four houses. Besides the cardamine deals they had with the Outcasts, the Rogues were believed to be funding several criminal organisations, mainly in Brettonia, although proof for this hadn’t been discovered. Also, everyone was still guessing how the Rogues would be able to fund anyone. It wasn’t like they had large amounts of cash stored at the Liberty House Bank.

Montezuma had a post-apocalyptic feel to it. The landing pad on which they set their ships was rusty, as was the elevator in the centre of the docking bay and the giant fans displacing the air mixed with sweat, H-fuel and alcohol. Michael stepped out on the pad and was immediately surrounded by the Hackers. Two of them grabbed his arms and took him toward the elevator. The other two took up position in front and behind him.

“So what’s this all about?” Michael asked, but there came no answer. Only grumpy looks from the two Hackers next to him.
“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything. I’ll just sing a song then: Oh my Oooold and ruuuusty Camel, youuuu never leaaaaave me aloooone!” It was an old trader’s song he picked up on Fort Bush after a long trade run from California. He celebrated his profits with his hired escort for several hours, effectively cutting his profits in half.

“Shut up!” said the Hacker on the right side, giving him a beat at the jaw. Michael’s lip started to bleed and he wiped a small stream of blood away with his fist, giving the man a foul look.

“We’re here.” Said the leading Hacker and he knocked on a steel door. The echoes resounded through the hall and made the base sound even larger then it probably was.
They entered a small office with only a desk and a chair behind it. On it said an old man, probably a Rogue. He had an eye patch and a scar on his left cheek. His long greasy hair fell down in streaks across his face and made him seem like he’d been on the run for ages without having had a shower. He even smelled that way. The Hackers didn’t seem to mind though.
The leader bended over to the man and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded and turned to Michael.

“So, Michael Armstrong, my name is Juan Guerera. I understand you have something that belongs to us?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michael answered, but he didn’t sound all that confident.
“Now, you wouldn’t be insulting my intelligence, would you?” Guerera spoke in a tone that sounded too friendly and gave Michael the shivers.
“Give me the datapad.”

Michael hesitated for a moment, but realised soon that he had no choice, so he took out the datapad and handed it over to Guerera.

“I bet it’s useless to you, it’s probably got dozens of security measures and passwords and such.” Michael said in an attempt to try and discourage them from looking into it. But Guerera just smiled.
“Don’t worry, we have our methods of extracting the information we’re after.” He said as he gave the pad to one of the Hackers. After he left the room, Guerera sat down in his chair and put his fingertips together and tapped them against his lips.

“Now, what are we to do with you?” he asked rhetorically while staring at the ceiling.
“You obviously know too much, so we must find a way to keep you from going about and telling everyone where we are hiding.” Michael started to get worried. They could kill him right there on the spot and they probably would. Nobody would find out about it or even miss him. He would be forgotten for always. Panic started to set in and Michael began to sweat.
Guerera rose out of his seat again and walked up to him, which was a bit of a problem as the room was quite small and with five people it was hard to walk around in. But Guerera wasn’t that big, about one head smaller then Michael actually, so he managed to cram himself past the Hackers and the desk until he stood in front of Michael.
As small as he was, he was still an impressive man with his one dark piercing eye looking right through him and Michael could see this was a born leader, someone you didn’t want to get in trouble with.

“I’m not a ruthless man; I don’t like killing people in cold blood, so I have an offer for you. In exchange for your life, I offer you a job. You work for us and we keep you alive. What do you say?”

Guerera had sounded much like a businessman, calm and calculated. Exactly knowing what he had to offer and how much he could ask for it. Again Michael knew he had no choice, but he had to try.

“And what if I refuse?”
“Then we’ll push you out of the airlock.” Guerera smiled again. “I suggest you take the offer.” Michael nodded. He had to accept this, but it was against his ideals. He had vowed never to accept jobs from criminals. Anything else was ok with him as long as he didn’t have to kill anyone. But this was a matter of survival.

“Ok, tell me what I have to do.” He finally said.
“Good, I knew you’d be a smart man.” Guerera said. “You’ll be escorted to a room where you can refresh yourself. There you’ll wait until you get your first assignment.” He nodded at the two Hackers who had walked beside him earlier and had remained beside him during the entire conversation.
“Take our guest to his room and hold him there.” At this command the Hackers grabbed Michael’s arms again and lead him away to his new, hopefully temporarily, living quarters.

Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into? Michael thought as he was carried away.

I hope you dont mind but i posted your story on my forums site, since i have friends come there all the time. If you want me to remove it i will. Please register for the forums if you get the chance! that may be advertising im sorry but i did want to tell neuromancer about me posting his story on my forum. Please tell me so.


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"A strong man doesnt need to read the future, he makes his own..." -Psycho Mantis from Metal Gear Solid
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THOSE LAST 4 PICTURES, COME FROM A GAME CALLED LITTLE FIGHTER 2, TO DOWNLOAD IT GO TO MY HOMEPAGE AND CLICK ON LF DOWNLOADS ON THE NAV BAR.

lol, no I don't mind, as long as you put my name in there also
I'll check out your site when I get the chance

well i cant say i dont like it becouse i do. very detailed and well great .
cant wait to hear more

dude

(never enlist in SoD)

nickless come on this stuff is addictive give me some more. ive read all the other fan fic on this bloody site GIVE ME MORE DANG IT!!

This is good stuff. Keep it coming.

When life gives you lemons, add alcohol.

lol nick u do atleast check the forums right???just don't check the NU forums some guy by the name of elite is spamming all the active threads there we've come up with a few ideas on how to increase interest in lvl 2.