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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 3, 2007 21:53:06 GMT -5
Ryan put his hat back on as he walked out of the Bounty office in Westell, a relatively small city on the surface of Mars. He flipped the cash card over again in his hands. This net diver wasn't exactly choice bounty hunting, but a little money was better than the no money that his crew had been going on. "Jesus," he said to no one in particular. after taking out expenses for the ship and costs of living, there's barely 10,000 Wulongs for each of my crew members.
It wasn't a far walk from the Bounty office to the bank, where he deposited the large majority of the bounty in his account to cover the withdrawal that would be made for his ship payment. He still wasn't sure how he was going to cover this month's payment on The Judge, but he decided he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. He decided to deposit his share of the bounty in his account as well before heading back to Breakpointe. "Another pissant bounty. Crew's probably not going to be happy," he thought aloud as he used some of his share to buy a few bottles of gin for his crew to enjoy. "Well, it's something at least, right?"
"I'm sure they'll be happy, sir," the young clerk said. She was pretty, but Rusty wasn't in the mood. With the brown paper bag from the liquor store stashed under his arm, he made no great hurry to get back to Breakpointe.
Once he was on the ship, he set the booze on the counter in the main lobby of the ship and turned on the news, ever vigilant for the next bounty head...
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 3, 2007 23:25:48 GMT -5
Jason glanced up briefly from where he sat at the workbench in Breakpointe's main lobby as Rusty came back. He quickly returned his eyes to his work though, he was in the process of removing the detonator from a thermite grenade, and if the fast burning substance went off, he'd be lucky to still have his fingers. And vaped flesh would be the least of his problems if he burned a hole through the workbench and into the floor with Rusty right there to watch it. " Well, how'd we make out on this one?" he asked when he had the detonator safely out.
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 3, 2007 23:58:58 GMT -5
Rusty glanced over at Jason as he tinkered away at the grenade. "Not as well as I'd hoped. But it's at least enough to cover expenses for another month." He tossed one of the cash cards over towards the work bench. "10,000 Wulongs. It ain't much, but it's better than nothing," he said idly. "So, what are you working on?"
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 4, 2007 8:23:20 GMT -5
Jason gave the cash card a look that suggested the piece of plastic had done him a personal wrong, and he picked it up and tucked it away with a disgusted sigh. " We can do better than this," he muttered as he pulled a foot long piece of pipe in front of him and began to add the thermite compound to the mix inside. " And I'm working on a method to better spread thermite, which is to say, spread it at all. The stuff just burns, it's a powder, so it doesn't take to spreading, it drifts too much apart. I'm trying to add it to napalm, and some HE. If this works, this thing will blow, it'll launch and ignite the napalm, which will in turn ignite the thermite." He gave Rusty a wicked grin. " Basically, this thing will toss hellfire that will stick to and melt anything it hits."
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 4, 2007 15:37:05 GMT -5
Rusty poured himself a glass of gin from the bar, cracking open one of the bottles he'd just bought. "Jesus, kid. Keep in mind that we blow the bounty if they die," he said with a smile. In truth, the weapon sounded like it'd be good as far as cutting of escape routes went. Or if they were ever in a serious jam. He took a sip of the gin--not the best he'd ever had--and looked back to the television.
"And in local news today, three armed men robbed the Westell Bank earlier today. Six hostages who were taken said the robbers sounded like men, although their faces were concealed with masks. The bank manager reported that the robbers made off with over 10,000,000 wulongs. Turning to sports..."
"Well, there's our better," Rusty said. It was only a matter of time before there was a bounty put on these guys' heads. He immediately changed channels to Big Shot, the galactic Bounty Hunters' news source, and sure enough there was a bounty posted in the amount of 1.5 million wulongs. "How close are you to being done with that?" Rusty asked as he downed the rest of his gin and put his jacket back on.
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 4, 2007 17:22:29 GMT -5
" No more than another ten minutes I'd say," Jason answered. He had been considering adding some shrapnel elements, but considering the fresh new bounty, he decided to try it in the next one, if the prototype worked at all like he wanted. " I just need to get this fuse in, and seal it up."
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 4, 2007 18:27:39 GMT -5
"Well, let me know when you are done. I'm going to go see what I can find out about these guys," Rusty said. He walked out off the ship, and into the noonday hour in Westell.
People were bustling everywhere on their lunch breaks. Some were doing some shopping, others were running errands, and some were actually eating. Rusty pulled the bill of his hat a little lower and looked down at the notes he had taken from the quick news story and from the spot on Big Shot. 13220 Applegate Crossing was the address of the bank that had been robbed. He headed that way, hoping to find some information.
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 4, 2007 21:24:47 GMT -5
The fuse went in easily, and the sealing cap twisted on tightly. Over all, Jason was pleased with himself. Not only was the bomb finished, but by recycling parts of an old thermos into the outer shell, the explosive was also disguised. Not very well, but it would pass casual inspection. Tucking his new toy into his jacket with his more usual ordinance, he put on his shades, snatched up a hand comm, and headed outside. " Rusty, where are you?" he asked into the comm.
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 4, 2007 22:13:01 GMT -5
"13220 Applegate Crossing. You know the spot?" Rusty said as soon as the call came in. The people working at the bank had no valuable information, but after a bit of smooth talking with one of the tellers, Rusty was able to convince them that he was with the police and get his hands on the security tapes from the robbery. "I've got the visual of the robbery," he said casually. He was actually sitting in one of the booths of the bank watching them right now on a portable Alfa Catch device. There was visual of the bank lobby itself, which provided nothing too useful, and a visual of the street outside the bank. "Hey, Smoke, before you leave the ship, run this VIN number for me: 217D39-N That's D as in Damsel and N as in Night." He went back to watching the visuals and sipping on a coffee that one of the ladies brought him.
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 5, 2007 8:11:24 GMT -5
Already a dozen paces from the ship, Jason stopped, sighed and rolled hs eyes, and turned around to head back. Reaching the ship's main computer, he brought up their somewhat legal police database interface, and did the search. " Alright boss man, that number belongs to a ground car rented from a place on the other side of town from the bank, 48890 8th Street."
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 5, 2007 15:09:21 GMT -5
"Okay, go to the place and ask around. I'm sure someone there remembers it. And Jason, remember: confidence. If you ask questions with confidence, they will assume you're with the ISSP. That usually helps get information." He folded up his Alfa Catch device, finishing off his coffee. "let me know when you're done there, and we'll get lunch somewhere." He stood up and returned the disc containing the surveillance footage to the teller. "Thank you again," he said casually. He walked out of the bank and lit a cigarette, watching the several cars go by.
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Post by lighthawk on Oct 7, 2007 21:16:38 GMT -5
Jason cut off the comm with a sigh. He hated asking questions, he didn't care much for people. And his attitude and attire didn't lead people to trusting him with anything, least of all sensitive info. Unfortunately, it was part of the bounty hunter gig, and he had to get better at it sometime if he wanted to continue in the field. With another sigh, he straightened his jacket, making a quick check of his gear, and set off across town.
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Post by Rekona on Oct 9, 2007 15:04:12 GMT -5
Kyra clucked her tongue thoughtfully chewing on a stirring stick. She really was far more conspicuous looking that she should: sitting in a dive bar in a smart, clean cut grey suit. Luckily it was in that sort of place she was safest. Full of criminals and refugees seeking solace. The smoke of tobacco and who knew what else hung so heavy in the air it threatened to choke the poor petite blonde. The drink in front of her was some foreign concoction that made her cheeks and ears flare up with a flush everytime she ventured to take a sip. It was worth the trouble to do so, however, since Jennings was in dire need of warmth and something to relax her.
Money was going to be a problem before long. She had plenty stashed away, but untouchable in her current position. Kyra loathed herself for not draining her account into her second, in a pseudonym, before going underground. With an exasperated hiss she stabbed the stick through the viscous liquid she was hesitantly drinking.
Holding the transparent rod with her thumb, she downed the last half of the glass, coughing in an uncouth fashion before slamming the glass back down. She rummaged through her pocket for some odd change and she dropped it onto the dirty bartop, not even trying to hide an air of disappointed superiority as she strode out into the humidly cramped street. Kyra pulled up the collar of her jacket as if it were going to hide the entirety of her face, as if the glare off her too-large glasses and tiny figure were not obvious.
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Post by ev1lpoptart on Oct 9, 2007 21:22:36 GMT -5
Rusty was walking down the street, idly kicking a few rocks when he came across them. He was headed for his old stomping grounds, hoping to find a bit of information about this recent heist. His contacts in the ISSP were usually reliable, for a price...
Walking into the bar, he passed a reasonably attractive, if somewhat conspicuously diminutive woman who was on her way out of the bar. "Afternoon," he said casually as he tipped his hat before taking it off.
Annabella looked up from her desk as she saw a man wearing sunglasses walk into the car rental agency. She pushed her glasses up and straightened her collar on her shirt. "Good day, sir. My name is Annabella, can I help you?"
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Post by Rekona on Oct 10, 2007 0:45:36 GMT -5
Some combination of surprise, paranoia, and a mild drunkenness caused Kyra to lose her footing. With a yelp the woman toppled backwards, coming to rest in a rather uncomfortable position: her head was flat on the ground with her feet above her set on the crude step to the door. A shoe, endowed with the power of momentum, had decided to land on the table of a pair of shady individuals. Not that the entire patronage didn't look shady.
Dignity was not going to be regained, the professional woman quickly discerned, but she tried to get back her composure none the less. Scrambling in an animalistic manner, she got to her feet and hobbled to where the pair of gentlemen stared confused at the flying footwear. As if it were perfectly normal, Kyra plucked the object from its resting place and hopped up and down until she had managed to secure it to her foot. Kyra patted down her skirt and adjusted her glasses. The stern and determined countenance almost managed to draw away from the fact that her pale hair was disheveled and there was a long run in her dark stockings.
Inconspicuous. Perfectly so.
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