Quigley: Would you? I'd be indebted to you. I'll need 1559 credits to cover repairs and restocking. Yeah, I know it isn't a lot, but I'm broke and Danson didn't have a lot of money in the first place. Felt kind of sorry for the poor weasel. Anyways, name's Matthew Quigley. Call me Quigley.

Quigley dusted himself off, wrinking of the beer out of his flight suit. He turned to head out, saying over his shoulder.

Quigley: Danson not a brave man. He's a heavy lifter captain.

Connor: Quigley, your suit is pretty torn up. You sure that fall didn't damage anything?

Quigley ground to a halt. The suit's history wasn't something he like to talk about.

Terranova: A soldier keeps his uniform in peak condition. They're a sure of pride. Even their fatigues, common work clothes, are well maintained. Isn't that right, Cadet Quigley?

Quigley stiffened. He couldn't have know that Quigley was a former West Point Cadet.

Terranova: A torn and weathered uniform that is not the result of combat is a sign of disgrace. When a soldier is dishonorable discharged, all honors, rank, and badges are ripped off usually tearing the uniform itself. Don't worry, kid. I'm not hunting you; I've just seen lots of guys like you. Most of the turn pirate, though. So what did you do to get this.

Quigley: My brother was an Pointer too. Graduate seven class in front of me. He went on command his own flight of Defenders. The last message I got from him was that he was escorting a convoy, wouldn't say what. The convoy got jumped. When back up arrived, all they found where wrecks. The Navy blamed my brother for the screw-up. As a result, I got a stigma and was washed-out. I really don't like talking about it, so are going to help or what?

JEDI ERRANT
For the joy of smoting.
"You're clever than you look, Q" ~Bond
"Better than looking clever than you are, 007" ~Q

he was still quick on his feet, althought the bullet that once went through his right foot, damaged it quite badly. He could feel that he wasn't going to hold on much longer.
Thank god that the equipment dealer was almost just around the corner.
While on his way, he replayed what had happened in the bar, but this time he focused on the big guy. He new him, but didn't know from where.
there wasn't time, he had other things on his mind, like getting to Lutz.

He was now sure that it was him. But, how did he get here?
Wasn't he a Liberty-asigned officer? The last time he met him he was.
Then what was he doing so far off in the border worlds? The New Harlem system was not Liberty Police teritory, the navy handeld this system.

When he turned the corner, there was no doubt left.
Lutz saw him too.

Lutz, grinning: Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged in, a Falcon and some down and out pilot.

Michael & Lutz smiled as the two old friends clasped, wrist to wrist; the warriors way.
They went to Manhattan Officers training together. He was one of the best pilots he'd ever had the privalidge to fly with.

Michael: Lutz, my man! I thought it was you. great to see you. How are you doing?

Lutz: Fine, just fine

Did he immagine, or was there a slight hasitation in Lutz's answer

Lutz: How about you?

Lutz obviously knew about the escape from Cal.Minor and the hunt for him ever since. It's been all over the news, so Michael didn't know if he could really trust him. But he had no choice. He needed help. Quickly.

Michael: Well, appart from the Bounty Hunters that I don't get of my back, I'm doing fine. What are you doing here?

OOC: I took the liberty of making New Harlem a system in the borderworlds. There is ofcourse a Planet New Harlem in there. If someone comes up with a better idea, let me know, and i'll edit my post
Btw, I'm off to bed to and wont be back till tomorrownight, so Lutz, take it over. I need a fine mechanic to repair my scanner, so maybe I could tag along with you? Just see what you do.


Edited by - Nickless on 26-07-2003 01:56:30

GM: Connor is shortly astonished by Vinnie's generosity, but then quickly makes a decision.

Connor: Of course I will join you Vinnie, to help our friend Quigley here. I have delt with quite a few bastards before, so this Danson guy is going to hang...You just tell me where to shoot, and I'll pull the trigger. But I just realised something...my ship ain't ready yet, although I could perhaps finish the last repairs myself to speed things up. Vinnie, you stay here with Quigley, while I check my ship's status with the equipment dealer. I'll be back in about 25 minutes. The next round is on me.

OOC: No biggie, I'm adding three Edge systems myself with Few Freeports. Just remember Omincron Zeta, Omega and Delta.

*Arrigoni Sat down on an Equipment Platform rubbing his forhead.*

*He looked at the old friends he thought he might ave seen them once or twice. He approached.*

Arrigoni: I feel better now if you're wondering, But do you two happen to remember a police report a couple years back about a Navy Officer that deserted, had a bounty on his head and was attacked by Bounty Hunters. He escaped and disabled their ships, all rescued alive? Yea, that was me.

*He pulled out his mechanical hand. It was grasping a cigar. He lighted it and puffed it.*

Arrigoni: Bet you've never seen one of these, it's a cigar. The Outcasts make more than just Cardimine ya know.

OOC: mean us?

Sudenly, before Lutz could reply, Argoni came up to the two old friends.

Michael: It's not common for a man wanted by the law, to show off his early mistakes. And about the "sigar", as you call it, I can only say one thing: It stinks!.

OOC: CptSavage, don't worry. trying to start a little quarrel here. Like, two guys, not really getting along, but needing eachother to stay alive and, well, who knows what may happen. They might end up as friends, or not, we'll see.

OOC: Oh beleive me, you'll get very very lost in the Edge without me man. You'll have to do a bit more to get me mad.

*Arrigoni merely chuckled. His free hand extended with a bottle in it.*

Arrigoni: You're a nasty one aren't ya. Try this, fresh Zoner scotch straight from Freeport 7's biodome.

OOC: If it aint FL, then Freeport 7 still exists. And Besides, what system was freeport 7 in anyway.

New Harlem: "Tango 3-5, you are cleared to pursue and apprehend the renegade ship. If you bring him back, we will repair any damage you may have sustained and restock your expended stores. As for the drink, we'll just have to wait and see about that."

Sagara, S: "Affirmative New Haven control. Am now intercepting verified bandit."

Thinking to himself: Great, another sortie. I mean, it wouldn't be too bad except I really wanted a few minutes to myself...and that Cowboy (Cowboy refers to a Midnight Cowboy...3 parts bourbon with 2 parts milk). Oh well, at least I'm getting gear and repairs...and maybe a date tonight.

Sagara, S: "By the way, you got any info on the bandit?"

Edited by - Ein-7919 on 26-07-2003 02:35:34

Lutz grinned. Arrigoni. Of course. The man he'd so casually kicked in the ribs to wake up before was Arrigoni. A madder, humorous and jollier man you couldn't find in the systems. You'd be hard pushed to find a better one in a battle too. They'd met in the first two years of pilot school, although Arrigoni looked different then. Amazing what a mechanical arm will do you for you thought Lutz. Arrigoni had been transferred, something to do with a house move or something. Maybe it was a job move of his father.

Lutz: Arrigoni, you rogue. So what brings you here?
*Lutz accept bottle from Arrigoni*
Arrigoni, evasively: You know a bit of this a bit of that...
*Lutz knocks back a nip from the bottle, passes back*
Lutz: Nice stuff, I heard rumours of them breeding Kal'Toreth Lava Lizards on that stuff. Got a bit of kick. Look, guys, it's great to see you again, but I've got a bit of business I gotta take care of, you know how it goes. I'll catch up with you real soon.
*Lutz shakes the hands of Michael and Arrigoni and heads off to equipment dealer.*
---------------------------

Michael and Arrigoni were walking back to the bar, the dim lighting of the corridors hiding the reddening face of Michael as Arrigoni plied him with drink. Catch-up on old times they intended to make a night of it down in the bar, until a maintenance robot approached Michael;

M. Robot: SIR. YOU ARE NEEDED IN THE REPAIR BAY.
*M. Robot wanders off in direction of repair bay*

Michael: Well, needs must Arrigoni, I gotta sort out that ship o' mine. I'll catch you laters in the bar, I'll get the next drink yeah?
Arrigoni: No problem, will be seeing you soon no doubt.

*Michael wanders down to bay*

Michael: Lutz, what’s happening?
Lutz: Hi Michael. Sorry for that. We need to talk, and I don’t' know enough about Arrigoni anymore to be able to fully trust him. Quick, head this way
*Lutz and Michael lurk in shadows of bay*
Lutz: OK, I've heard what happened to you back on California Minor. Although I've not seen you for about 4 years I'm pretty certain that you're no Cardamine smuggler. What happened? I heard you gotta a nice large bounty on your head now?
Michael: Heh... don't bother Lutz, there's no need to go into it. I doubt you'd believe me anyway. All I'll say is that you're right, I'm no drug dealer.
Lutz: I'd believe you, honestly. I'm fugitive too. I escaped from Alaska, accused of gross insubordination. The whole trial stank like a ten day old fish. Something is happening. First you, now me... I reckon something has happened with Arrigoni too. If you don’t' want to tell me I understand, but I'm here if you do pal.
*Lutz claps hand on Michaels shoulder.*
Lutz: I'm gonna finalise my ship repairs, then I'm outta here. If you wanna come, spread the wings, you're welcome. I don't doubt that the Guild will be after me too. Find Arrigoni, see if he interested, and see what happened to him. You know my story now, at least the important bits, so you'll know what you're letting yourself in for. Hope to see you in space.

OCC: Nickless, CptSavage; just a way for you to both tell your characters stories to each other, flesh yourselves out until Wizard develops the main plot a bit further and to let others enter the fray. And I do hope to see you in space soon!


Edited by - Lutz on 26-07-2003 02:43:00

*Arrigoni had been trying to contact his client and found out that he had been mugged and killed by a rouge on Planet Atlantic. Hard to beleive that place is under full Police protection, but the corruption that follows gambling and other services make way for anything to happen. He was in the bar, mixing Liberty Ale, Rheindland Vodka & Beer, a dash of Sidewinder Fang and his Zoner Scotch. The Drink is called......THE MANSLAYER! Wanna try it.*

Arrigoni: (To Himself) Jesus, people these days. A Man is dead and I'm out of a contract. Better head out before somebody mugs and kills me. At least on Zoner stations, it's just Zoners and bounty hunters. Nobody kills you for your vaulables and a few loose credits.

OOC: Andrew thinks aloud. People think he talks to himself....but....well...he kinda is. But he's not crazy.

EVERYBODY! GET READY TO GET SAVAGE! *Start playing Jungle Boogie*

Edited by - CptSavage on 26-07-2003 03:16:50

New Harlem: "That's a negatory Tango 3-5. There is no info on the bandit other than he's moderately armed and only slightly dangerous. He shot up the landing strip while he was taking off and damaged a few fighters." a slight pause, "He seems more intent in getting away than he is of actually getting into a fight."

Sagara, S: "Great, time to go coursing again."

*Seki instructs his ship's AI to intercept "Bandit Alpha 1" in order to free up his hands so that he can dink around with his antique MOD-player (something he found in an antique store on New Tokyo). The MOD-player (Mini Optical Disk) was a novelty toy even when it was new (or so the vendor claimed). Able to store over 250 terrabytes of music onto a chip no larger than Seki's fingernail, it was something that appealed to his impulsively curious nature. Figuring that it was high time for a little classical music, he selected a song that was said to have originated long before the Great War*

Somehow the track Tank! (by the Seatbelts) always seemed to jazz up even the most routine and boring of tasks. Such as intercepting a spooked pilot.

*After the success of operating the MOD-player, Seki placed his left hand into the interface glove that enabled him to pilot the Tenshi and disengaged the AI. Noticing that the fleeing ship had engaged its cruise engines, Seki performed a tight little barrel roll and punched his own cruise engines*

Sagara, S: "Who knows, maybe this'll turn out interesting, after all," he muttered to himself "stranger things have happened to me." He was in the habit of talking to himself. "New Haven control, I am pursuing fleeing craft on heading 315 by 217. You may want to scramble a tow-ship...my little fighter can barely haul in an ejected pilot."

New Haven: "As soon as we can sort things out down here we will send out a towing vessel to your transponder location. By the way, who can I tell them to expect?"

Sagara, S: "Just tell them 'Celestin' is waiting for them in the heavens."

GM:

Before Sagara knew it, the bandit (aka Danson) departed with his ship into space. So what do we have now? He's wanted by a Kusari, and by our trio (Quigley, Terranova and Connor). They are all in it for the money. This could really interesting...

After Connor came back from equipment dealer they immediatly departed into space. Searching for Danson. It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Bu Terranova managed to complete these kind of missions before. Luck is on his side most of the time.

Terranova (in space): Quigley, Connor, stick together and inform me when you see something on your scanners! Vinnie out!

OOC: I'm not quite sure I'll be able to write in "script" form. I'll do my best by at least (trying to) separating thoughts, dialogue, and narration.

*Daniel Morlone was staring off into space - which, while currently in a loose orbit about the medium yellow star of the New Harlem system, held a much different meaning. In the few times he had found himself in the backwater system known as New Harlem he had never gotten over the sight of how the dark matter clouds between Liberty and Kusari contrasted against the vibrant blues of the Crow Nebula. However, from his limited experience in hostile systems of Gallileo and Kepler, he knew that was all the dark clouds were good for.

*Although he knew that just sitting idly in space was an invitation to be blasted by a passing pirate patrol, he was confident that, if in danger, he could reach the nearest tradelane and escape to the relatively safer zone of the planet.

*As always when stargazing, he set his onboard neuralnet computer to filter through all the constant radio and subspace(!1) chatter that was omnipresent in any inhabited system. Normally it's a mere murmur to avoid distractions, but every once in a while you hear the odd occasional distress call.

*His neuralnet obviously found something of value, and notified Psawhn(!2)of it. It wasn't a priority class transmission - which ruled out such things as distress calls, bounty payments, or renegades on the run. However, his computer noted unusual decibel (sp?) levels in the transmission. In other words - yelling. Daniel instructed the computer to raise the volume of this channel to an audible level.*

Radio : "...platform! I repeat, the pilot is making a run for it! Security, intercept him!"

*Intrigued, Daniel opened up all radio communications on that channel. He listened to a Kusari accent request to persue, and the response. During that time, Daniel was debating what to do about it. He decided, for the moment, to learn more.

Ever listening to the agitated communications, he instructed his nerualnet to access the targeting computers of the nearest tradelane to Planet New Harlem, for he was too far out of range for his own scanners. It took a moment for the requested information to come back. The profile suggested looked like a Startracker flier (!3) It didn't look like much of a threat, in any case. Judging from its designation (Universal Escort Sigma 3-2) he guessed that it was stolen.
*The 'bandit' (as the radio comms reffered to it) barely had time to register in the tradelane's limited scanners before it vanished again. He watched as the other pilot quickly tore after him, then traced their probable trajectory. It passed by not too far from Daniel's position.

*However, just when he had decided that he would mind his own business anyway, three unusual ships took off from the planet. This fugitive guy is really wanted. He decided that if somebody had managed to get this mottely of ships after him, he deserved to be taken in. He might as well try to help.
*He hailed the three ships that just departed from the planet.*

Psawhn: "This is Freelancer Kappa three-dash-nine to, uh, unknown armed convoy. May I presume you're after a man who just departed your vicinity?"

The reply sounded rather irritaded.

Reply: "Affirmative. What do you care?"

Psawhn: I am in a position to intercept your target. Would you like assistance?

(!1)OOC: I'm *assuming* that using subspace channels is how system to system communication is achieved. (plus, subspace sounds cool ) If this doesn't fit in, then remove it.
(!2)OOC: Should I go by firstname, lastname, or callsign?
(!3)OOC: If it should be something else (more dangerous, perhaps?), by all means adjust.
OOC:Well, I hope my joining in doesn't do anything bad. If anything's the matter (size? too much/little text/dialogue? Jumping in at first chance?) please tell me.

Edited by - Whasp Commander on 26-07-2003 10:48:00

Sagara, S: "Chukusho" (*1), Seki cursed, "Where'd he go?"

*Figuring that he'd just lost his free repairs and restock (not to mention a drink), Seki went to the where his scanners last tracked the bandit and throttled down. All he really wanted was to make landfall and maybe get that Cowboy he's been hankering for. Besides, this started to look more and more like actual work than easy money. As soon as that tow-ship arrives, Seki figured that he'd just give them the last heading that the runaway ship was on.*

Sagara, S: "Well, no sense listening to this while we're camping out, eh?" he remarked to his ship (he was also of the habit of talking to his ship as well)

*Flipping a couple more switches on the MOD-player, Seki found something more suitable to the situation...some Charlie Parker.*

Sagara, S: "Ah...'April in Paris'. Subarashi."

And so he sat there, watching the swirling nebula cloud in the distance, waiting for a ship that was bound to come around looking for the runaway pilot, and listening to Charlie Parker play his tenor sax.

OOC: (*1) translation of "Chukusho" is roughly d@mn or any other such expletive as to indicate surprised frustration.

Edited by - Ein-7919 on 26-07-2003 18:42:36

While thinking about the things Lutz told him, Michael walked back into the bar. (Or, actually he limped! He must get that foot taken care of some day. The sooner the better.)

Arrigoni. Another Manhattan graduate. although he didn't remember seeing him. Arrigoni must have finnished the basic course(*1) there with Lutz, while he flew accross the Pitsburg debree fields as a patrol wingman, Michael figured.(*2)
But if Arrigoni was a patrolleader, what was he doing here, out of uniform and without a patrol?
Michael finds Arrigoni at the bar. (Was he talking to himself?)

Michael: So, how about that drink?

Arrigoni: It's right here.

Arrigoni shows him a filled glass and Michael immidiately recognises the darkbrown colour and the damp comming off of the top of the drink.

Michael: A manslayer? I thought they put that on the Chapmann-List?(*3)

Arrigoni: They did. This is homemade, ain't no better. Try it, you'll love it.

Michael carefully sipped from the top of the glass, he remembered the last time he had one of those "homemade" drinks. He past out before he could finish the drink. Although, it was pretty warm that day on planet New Mexico, even for that place. He'd allwas got a bit carefull since then, when somebody offered him one.

Arrigoni: don't be affraid, it won't kill you. *laughes* You don't really trust me, do you mate?

Michael irritated: First of all, I'm not your "mate". and second, no, I don't trust you. Surprised?

Arrigoni: Yes, actually I am. What's the deal Michael, what have I done to earn your distrust?

*short silence...*

Michael: I'm sorry, ok. It's just not my day. Liberty space just get's to me. They don't like me here.

*another short silence...*

Arrigoni turns his head and smiles...

Arrigoni: Are you gonna finish that drink, mate?

Michael grinns back: No. Nothing personnal. I'm just not used to hard liqour anymore. Maybe a few years ago.

Arrigoni: You're that Cal.Minor escapee, aren't you? I thought I saw your face on the contract list.
Care to tell me what happened out there? You don't have to worry about me, I wont turn you in.

Michael: Nothing spectacular to say about it. I maybe fill you in on the details someday.
But first things first, Lutz is taking of in a few minutes. He invited me to come along with him, he can provide me with a relative save departure from this stinkhole they call New Harlem. Care to join us?

(*1)OOC: finishing Basic course, makes you a wingman, Officers training promotes you to patrol leader
(*2)OOC: Michael met Lutz on Manhattan during the Officers Training.
(*3)OOC: Chapmann-List is the list of illigal comodities (Cardamine and such)
OOC: Manhattan is a better trainingschool then West Point. Michael didn't have enough cash to attend Manhattan.
OOC: Oh, and CptSavage, this is an invitaion to tell us what hapened. Your choice to keep it a mistery