Tue Oct 17, 2006 2:33 am
Bloodlust
Hi, my name is Raycrasher and this is my first FL fanfic, first be gentle since I am currently learning how to write and decided that this would be a very good educational experience. Constructive criticisms are very much accepted!
Hehe, if you understand the Tagalog language you would recognize some of the, umm, words here
Heto na, Heto na, Heto na! Waaaaaa!!! From: Kamikazee, DooBeeDoo
__________________________
Bloodlust
Chapter One: The Escape
I awoke from a nightmare - unidentified ships, purple flashes of deadly fire and great looming masses so seemingly close enough to touch but light-years too far away. As the tranquilizer those GMG "potahs" given me when I was brought in wore off, my vision cleared, and I was able to get a better view of my surroundings. I was in a prison cell in a Kusari base, judging from the oriental ornaments visible outside the bars.
'Tang ina, why did I take that mission in the first place! Kyoto said it would be a "very simple recon mission" inside the Sigma-13 nebula. And it was - I even got a strange pair of guns from one of the Rheinland wrecks ("Codename DIAMONDBACK", as written under the serial number) - until those damn Yanks showed up.
FLASHBACK
Hey Ray, are you seeing this? Liberty Patriots? How the hell did they get here in the first place!? And a whole stinking patrol of them! Ah well, let's do some target prac - *A deafening crash over the comms, alarms blaring* Damn! I'm hit! Unidentified contacts on my six request imme^@(#&*($-up! What the f***? What is this?! Some kind of &*%&^%^%&! Help! My shields are failing-losing powe%^&*^! AAAAAH!
END FLASHBACK
I remember ejecting after being hit by what I saw was a barrage of violet fire. When I awoke from stasis, all I remember was some GMG guard (by the looks of his uniform) giving me a shot of something - and here I am.
‘Tang inang to. Must get out. If this was an ordinary prison cell I have a very good chance of breaking out, since Blood Dragons are trained for such circumstances. Better test my theory.
"HEY!!! Somebody out there? Hey!"
"Shut up!" was the reply.
"HEY!!!"
"All right, all right!", said a gruff voice, and a burly guard, clad with light body armor, a blaster pistol and what looks like a sheathed katana on his back appeared in front of my cell. "What is it?"
"Can you bring me some chow please? I'm kinda hungry. And where's the comfort room?" As polite as possible, to placate the victim.
"Okay. Your bathroom's over there", the guard said gruffly, pointing to a hole in a partly concealed conclave at the far right corner of my cell.
"Ok. Thanks." With that the guard left.
I then quickly searched myself for anything that can be used as a weapon - shoelaces, my hidden jackknife, anything solid. The search came empty, except for the shoelaces, which was only useful if the victim was facing away and in very close proximity. I left my shoelaces on, no use running if your shoes' about to fall out.
After a minute, the guard came, bringing with him a bowl of Synth paste. No fork and spoon. At least the bowl's made of metal. I took the bowl and ate. After I finished eating I tore apart the bowl, stomping on it, bending it until it came apart and produced a sharp edge.
The guard apparently heard the noise that ensued and promptly came to my cell and demanded an explanation.
"Hey, what's going o-Urmph!" he goes as I shoved the crude bowl-weapon into his gut, right between the torso armor and hip micromesh.
As he slumped along the bars of my cell I took his keys und unlocked the door. I took the katana, pistol and torso armor and stalked to the door at the end of the hallway.
...
Anak ng titi! The Drone freighter I found inside the launch bay handled like how it’s expected to handle - a huge, fat pig. And it doesn’t suit my style - as a Blood Dragon I am accustomed to flying my late heavily-modified Drake (aka the “Kotetsu” ) in circles around fat-ass freighters just like the one I was flying now. Frustrated as I am with my windfall I was glad I had something to protect me from the cold void of space as I launched from the frying pan inside the ship bay into the fire outside the station.
“Ray Zamora Valentine, this is GMG Station Gas Miner Naha, please cut your engines and prepare to be boarded, or we will open fire. I repeat, we will open fire,” the female comm controller from the station uttered threateningly as my fat-ass craft emerged from the charred launch-bay door, which I blew open.
“As you wish, I will cut my engines now.” I replied. I then put the thrusters on max, cut my engines and diverted all power to the weapons. The plan was that I would drift on twice my engine speed away from the base, while concentrating all reserves to my shields and weapons. I also set the autopilot to fire lateral thrusters on a 45-degree angle if need be to avoid obstacles. As the pilot seat shifted and put me in turret-control mode a wave of fighters emerged from the base and flew in delta formation, poised to strike.
“All units, target is escaping, eliminate with extreme prejudice.”
“Copy that, fire control.”
“All units, break formation and assume maneuver alpha. We will take this pirate out of the sky.”
“Yes sir, copy that. Assuming maneuver alpha.”
“Switching to guns. Firing.”
Such is the chatter coming from the comms as I prepared for the inevitable firefight, customizing power levels (150% for 5 minutes, generating at 120% at 50MW) and checking weapons (three each of Skyblast A and B turrets, and two Disinfector 2 guns). Then, silence.
All I heard was my own heartbeat, so deafeningly loud, in my head. My vision darkened to blackness, intensifying the rhythmic beat. After what seemed to me as an eternity there was a blinding flash, and gradually my vision cleared and the beating faded into nothing.
What I saw from the vantage of the turret control cockpit was beyond words.
The navcomp was chattering the feared “Warning: Shields depleted. Hull breach imminent.” message in its unnervingly calm voice, but I heard nothing of it. Around my ship were the burning wrecks of the GMG fighters sent to terminate me and those of other ships I assume were called for backup. Gas Miner Naha itself had several turret mounts smoking and its control tower was floating a few meters away, detached from the base. The HUD showed several escape pods signaling the universal SOS signal. There were also countless chatters over the comms, all garbled with static, but I can make out some of the messages – “Mayday, mayday, we a....$%%#$%.....&%#$#...^%^….ter, request immediate assista….%**!$@$!..decks destroyed…..”.
I tractored as much loot as I can salvage (no escape pods, too risky) and fled the scene.
Edited by - raycrasher on 10/17/2006 4:49:26 AM
Hehe, if you understand the Tagalog language you would recognize some of the, umm, words here
Heto na, Heto na, Heto na! Waaaaaa!!! From: Kamikazee, DooBeeDoo
__________________________
Bloodlust
Chapter One: The Escape
I awoke from a nightmare - unidentified ships, purple flashes of deadly fire and great looming masses so seemingly close enough to touch but light-years too far away. As the tranquilizer those GMG "potahs" given me when I was brought in wore off, my vision cleared, and I was able to get a better view of my surroundings. I was in a prison cell in a Kusari base, judging from the oriental ornaments visible outside the bars.
'Tang ina, why did I take that mission in the first place! Kyoto said it would be a "very simple recon mission" inside the Sigma-13 nebula. And it was - I even got a strange pair of guns from one of the Rheinland wrecks ("Codename DIAMONDBACK", as written under the serial number) - until those damn Yanks showed up.
FLASHBACK
Hey Ray, are you seeing this? Liberty Patriots? How the hell did they get here in the first place!? And a whole stinking patrol of them! Ah well, let's do some target prac - *A deafening crash over the comms, alarms blaring* Damn! I'm hit! Unidentified contacts on my six request imme^@(#&*($-up! What the f***? What is this?! Some kind of &*%&^%^%&! Help! My shields are failing-losing powe%^&*^! AAAAAH!
END FLASHBACK
I remember ejecting after being hit by what I saw was a barrage of violet fire. When I awoke from stasis, all I remember was some GMG guard (by the looks of his uniform) giving me a shot of something - and here I am.
‘Tang inang to. Must get out. If this was an ordinary prison cell I have a very good chance of breaking out, since Blood Dragons are trained for such circumstances. Better test my theory.
"HEY!!! Somebody out there? Hey!"
"Shut up!" was the reply.
"HEY!!!"
"All right, all right!", said a gruff voice, and a burly guard, clad with light body armor, a blaster pistol and what looks like a sheathed katana on his back appeared in front of my cell. "What is it?"
"Can you bring me some chow please? I'm kinda hungry. And where's the comfort room?" As polite as possible, to placate the victim.
"Okay. Your bathroom's over there", the guard said gruffly, pointing to a hole in a partly concealed conclave at the far right corner of my cell.
"Ok. Thanks." With that the guard left.
I then quickly searched myself for anything that can be used as a weapon - shoelaces, my hidden jackknife, anything solid. The search came empty, except for the shoelaces, which was only useful if the victim was facing away and in very close proximity. I left my shoelaces on, no use running if your shoes' about to fall out.
After a minute, the guard came, bringing with him a bowl of Synth paste. No fork and spoon. At least the bowl's made of metal. I took the bowl and ate. After I finished eating I tore apart the bowl, stomping on it, bending it until it came apart and produced a sharp edge.
The guard apparently heard the noise that ensued and promptly came to my cell and demanded an explanation.
"Hey, what's going o-Urmph!" he goes as I shoved the crude bowl-weapon into his gut, right between the torso armor and hip micromesh.
As he slumped along the bars of my cell I took his keys und unlocked the door. I took the katana, pistol and torso armor and stalked to the door at the end of the hallway.
...
Anak ng titi! The Drone freighter I found inside the launch bay handled like how it’s expected to handle - a huge, fat pig. And it doesn’t suit my style - as a Blood Dragon I am accustomed to flying my late heavily-modified Drake (aka the “Kotetsu” ) in circles around fat-ass freighters just like the one I was flying now. Frustrated as I am with my windfall I was glad I had something to protect me from the cold void of space as I launched from the frying pan inside the ship bay into the fire outside the station.
“Ray Zamora Valentine, this is GMG Station Gas Miner Naha, please cut your engines and prepare to be boarded, or we will open fire. I repeat, we will open fire,” the female comm controller from the station uttered threateningly as my fat-ass craft emerged from the charred launch-bay door, which I blew open.
“As you wish, I will cut my engines now.” I replied. I then put the thrusters on max, cut my engines and diverted all power to the weapons. The plan was that I would drift on twice my engine speed away from the base, while concentrating all reserves to my shields and weapons. I also set the autopilot to fire lateral thrusters on a 45-degree angle if need be to avoid obstacles. As the pilot seat shifted and put me in turret-control mode a wave of fighters emerged from the base and flew in delta formation, poised to strike.
“All units, target is escaping, eliminate with extreme prejudice.”
“Copy that, fire control.”
“All units, break formation and assume maneuver alpha. We will take this pirate out of the sky.”
“Yes sir, copy that. Assuming maneuver alpha.”
“Switching to guns. Firing.”
Such is the chatter coming from the comms as I prepared for the inevitable firefight, customizing power levels (150% for 5 minutes, generating at 120% at 50MW) and checking weapons (three each of Skyblast A and B turrets, and two Disinfector 2 guns). Then, silence.
All I heard was my own heartbeat, so deafeningly loud, in my head. My vision darkened to blackness, intensifying the rhythmic beat. After what seemed to me as an eternity there was a blinding flash, and gradually my vision cleared and the beating faded into nothing.
What I saw from the vantage of the turret control cockpit was beyond words.
The navcomp was chattering the feared “Warning: Shields depleted. Hull breach imminent.” message in its unnervingly calm voice, but I heard nothing of it. Around my ship were the burning wrecks of the GMG fighters sent to terminate me and those of other ships I assume were called for backup. Gas Miner Naha itself had several turret mounts smoking and its control tower was floating a few meters away, detached from the base. The HUD showed several escape pods signaling the universal SOS signal. There were also countless chatters over the comms, all garbled with static, but I can make out some of the messages – “Mayday, mayday, we a....$%%#$%.....&%#$#...^%^….ter, request immediate assista….%**!$@$!..decks destroyed…..”.
I tractored as much loot as I can salvage (no escape pods, too risky) and fled the scene.
Edited by - raycrasher on 10/17/2006 4:49:26 AM