Active Plots (Alphabetical) - Updated 8/21/2010

Can't I Have Any Time? - (Eruantion Doriath [?], Amonost Doriath [?])

End of Solitude - (Verda Stelo [?])

No More Grape Soda - (Alex Dean [?], Samuel Jorgenson [?], Leon Mecheeto [?])

Questionable Means - (Tawny Black [?], Ishkan Ma'z)

Author	Comment
Tom Fender Member of SG&C Wandered the world like Caine from Kung-Fu and got into adventures Dominion Master 8/13/2012 11:58:02 PM Level: 18 Experience: 26800 Total Posts: 95	Luller Shrugged Luller Mining Company was a relatively small but successful outfit, one of very many, with operations set up around the gas giant Com. Their business was mining and refining stranigen, the most popular gas for use in blaster-based weaponry. The company owned a single orbital mining platform but had some of the highest output. The raw stranigen gas was shipped from Com to the Luller Mining Company refinery on Crocop, a utopian paradise. The majority of the planet's surface was occupied by massive cities. One city in particular was widely known as Eagle Ridge, and this city was home to Luller Mining Company headquarters and the owner himself, Michael Luller. Michael Luller, a man of thirty-five years, was of humble origin. His family never had a whole lot of money, but they worked government jobs, as that was about all there was to be had on Crocop, and so enjoyed job security. His father was a teacher at a city school, and his mother was a secretary at the Eagle Ridge tax ministry. Since his late teens, Michael had been determined to make a decent living for himself beyond the meager income his parents had known. At age thirty, already married and with two small children, he started Luller Mining Company with capital from an investor from Meeriad. The investor strongly urged Michael to headquarter on Meeriad to avoid Crocop's outrageous government red tape, but, much to his dismay, Michael declined, citing that Eagle Ridge was his and his wife's home. After only two years of operations, Michael had generated enough income to purchase the company outright. Since then, he has enjoyed vast income from his modest mining operation. He has staffed a number of mining platform operators and engineers, but that number was far outmatched by the number of administrative personnel he's had to employ full-time to insure compliance with the jaw-dropping amount of government permitting, taxation, inspections, and other miscellaneous administrative overhead that is par for the course for businesses unfortunate enough to be operating on Crocop. That is largely the reason for private business being nearly non-existent on this world. --- It was a bright and sunny morning in the middle of the week. Michael was preparing waffles for his wife, Patty, and their young children, Billy and Amanda. Patty was preparing the kids for school. Michael peeled a waffle from the iron and slapped it onto a plate stacked with other delicious waffles. "Come and get it!" he called. Billy excitedly rushed over to claim his waffle before his mother could finish putting his other shoe on. Patty caught him and put his shoe on with Billy's blessing, as he quickly realized how awkward it was to run while wearing only a single shoe. They all sat down at the kitchen table to eat together. Before the kids could even finish their waffles, the school transport arrived to pick them up to cart them away for a day of drilling, the educational value of which was suspect. Michael and Patty walked them to the door and gave them goodbye hugs before they boarded the craft, not to be seen until later that night. Michael and Patty reclaimed their seats at the kitchen table. Michael poured more syrup onto his waffle since it had dried up. He sighed and looked to his wife, "Patty?" "Yeah?" "I think it's time to get serious about moving to Meeriad. I mean... we hardly get to see our kids since they're required to attend school from, basically, sunrise to sunset. It's ridiculous. And the neighborhood here is getting rougher." Patty nodded, "Yes, Mrs. Pliskin told me yesterday that they were robbed--again--just last week. So at the very least we need to get out of the neighborhood." Michael shook his head, "It's getting like that everywhere. And not to mention the tax hikes. This year, the company is going to owe about seventy percent of its income, not profits, income." Patty's jaw dropped. "You're kidding." "No. We'll barely be able to break even at that point." Patty finished the last of her waffle and set her fork down. "That's ridiculous. How could they do that?" "They're the government," Michael shrugged, "They can do whatever they want. Jones Laggut actually warned me about this back when we started the company and he tried to get me to set up on Meeriad. He said the Crocopan government has, in the past, taxed successful businesses nearly to death and swooped in at the last second to take them over. At the time, I thought it was just some stupid conspiracy theory. Now I'm not so sure." Patty stood and picked up the empty plates and silverware. She brought them over to the sink. "So you're saying you should've listened to Jones way back then?" She asked. "Yes," Michael nodded, "But I didn't want to leave Crocop. It's home." "Right, I didn't either," Patty added. Michael turned to watch Patty put the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. "Yesterday, I applied for an offworld temporary relocation permit in case we want to visit Meeriad to scope it out. And I also applied for an offworld permanent relocation permit in case we decide to move. It usually takes months, so I thought I'd get it started," Michael said. "What about the company?" Patty asked. "It's a part of the permanent relocation permit. It's all included," Michael checked his watch, "Looks like I'd better head into the office. Think it over, hon', and let me know what you want to do. See you tonight!" After a departing kiss, he went to the garage and entered his car. He pulled the registration card from his pocket, slipped it into the slot on the steering column, and pressed the ignition button. The computer accepted his identification as Luller, Michael R. and allowed the engine to start. He backed out of the garage and the driveway and headed off to work. --- On his way to the Luller Mining Company offices, he witnessed a motorist running a traffic signal. The vehicle immediately slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the road, and the occupants were locked inside. In every city on Crocop, every road is outfitted with devices that detect the driver of the vehicle and automatically bills his mandatory, government-issued personal bank account for a specific amount based on the severity of the traffic infraction. There is also a "three strikes rule" where, after three traffic violations within a certain period of time, the vehicle is automatically rendered inoperable on the spot and law enforcement agents are notified to immediately apprehend the driver and impound the vehicle. For the most part, violators only do thirty days in a correctional facility and pay a fee, set automatically by some obscure algorithm, to retrieve their vehicles and restore their driving privileges. Only once has Michael exceeded the posted speed limitation, and he was therefore automatically charged a hefty fee. Much to his dismay, his wife has a lead foot and is no stranger to the automated traffic violation penalty fees. Thankfully, she has always managed to avoid the third strike. Today, Michael made it to the office without suffering any penalties. --- Michael returned home from work one evening four months after their discussion of moving. In his hand was a letter from the Ministry of Relocation. Stamped in every whitespace of the envelope were various warnings about how incarcerated one would become for opening the letter if one is not the recipient or for putting it in the wrong mailbox or for reading it without opening it among many other crimes. Patty came to greet her husband and noticed his look of sadness. She inquired about the perceived problem. "Our applications for relocation permits, temporary and otherwise, have both been denied," Michael answered. "What? Why?" Michael pulled the letter out of the envelope. "'Due to developing circumstances on third-system planets such as Meeriad, Wist, Tecom, and others, relocation permits will not be issued for these planets to ensure the safety of Crocopan citizens. Please see the attached travelers' safety bulletins for further details. We apologize for any inconvenience. Sincerely, Jack Munney, Minister of Relocation'," Michael read, "And there are four or five double-sided pages for each planet listing the government's concerns for them." Patty looked confused, "Well, what does it say about Meeriad?" Michael summarized the safety bulletin as showing concern for "feral indigenous species" (and it went on to list various species such as orcs, elves, Linhi, and so forth), highway robbery from roving marauders ("They're ones to talk," Patty added), and a generally unstable, dangerous, and heavily-armed human population as well as having no "safe port of entry for travelers". "That's not at all what I've heard Meeriad is like," Patty said. "Yeah," Michael added, "Me neither." Patty put her hands on her hips, "So, that's it? It's over?" "Maybe not," Michael replied, "I'll give Mr. Laggut a call in the morning. Maybe he can help us." --- The next morning, Michael awakened to the sound of his alarm clock. He quickly ended its sharp buzz and climbed out of bed. Patty lay asleep on her side of the bed, miraculously unfazed by the obnoxious din. Michael dressed and headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He then moved onto his office, where he sat down in his high back leather chair and woke his computer. He grabbed the phone from the desk and looked up Jones Laggut's number from its contact list. He dialed and awaited an answer. Off-world phone calls always took some time to connect. After waiting several moments, he heard a click of the connection being made and a voice. "Hello?" "Jones Laggut?" "Yes?" "This is Michael Luller." "Hey!" Jones replied. "Long time no speak. What can I do for you, Mr. Luller?" Michael explained his situation, getting the occasional "hmm" and "mm-hmm" from Jones. "Michael," Jones started, "I'm sorry, but it definitely looks like you've been targeted. I've seen it happen before, and I can't say that I'm surprised." Michael nervously twirled a pen around with his free hand. "Do you know of anything I can do?" "You can try bribery," Jones said half-jokingly. "I don't think so." Michael wasn't laughing. There was an uneasy silence for a moment. "I know some people who can help you," Jones finally said, "But you have to be sure it's what you want because there's no turning back. It'll be dangerous. You'll be a fugitive on your world." Michael stared through his computer monitor just as it went back to sleep. In the four months since he seriously discussed moving with his wife, he convinced himself it was time to get out. He was sure he wanted to get out. "Don't take this decision lightly, Michael," Jones said. "Talk it over with your wife first. Make sure it's what you both want. I'll talk to the people who can help you." "Who are these people?" Michael wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Friends of mine. They call themselves 'adventurers for hire'. They're a real tight crew, real handy in a pinch. They helped me out of a bad spot years ago." "I see..." "Look," Jones said, "We really shouldn't be discussing this over the phone. You talk to your wife, and I'll make a call. Call me if you decide to do it." "OK, thanks, Jones," Michael said. "Don't thank me yet." Jones hung up. Michael turned in his chair and saw Patty leaning against the door frame of the room, looking back at him. She had been there for a few minutes. "Were you talking to Mr. Laggut?" she asked. Michael nodded. "Well, what did he say?" "That it's not going to be easy." --- Michael didn't go to work that day. He stayed home to talk with Patty. The decision wasn't easy, especially with children. If they decided to act in spite of the government and failed, Michael could be imprisoned, perhaps even Patty, and their children carted away by some uncaring state agent, never to be seen by them again. If they didn't try to leave, Michael would eventually lose control of his company, unable to survive because of the outrageous taxes, and be forced to sell to the state who conveniently happens to come around to make some lowball offer and, to add insult to injury, offer him a job as a low-level employee of his own company. Or worse, he could have it taken from him. "Michael, we just can't stay," Patty said, "Our best bet is to make a break for Meeriad." "Are you sure?" Michael asked, "Think of the kids." "I have thought of the kids. It's their best chance as well," Patty said, growing more confident in her decision, "I'm tired of not seeing my kids. I have no idea what they're teaching them in that awful school. Have you even seen the school they go to?" Michael, to his sudden shame, realized he had never actually seen the place his own children went twelve hours a day to allegedly receive an education. "It looks like a prison," Patty went on, "There are chain-link fences all around it. The walls are cold, gray concrete." "OK," Michael said, "We'll do it. I'm going to call Jones now." Michael got up from the living room couch and headed back into his office. He picked up the phone and stared at it. He was suddenly feeling too nervous to sit. He started to pace as he found Jones's number again. He hesitated a moment before putting the call through. It rang and rang for an eternity. Finally, it was answered. "Hello?" "Jones, it's me again." "Ah," Jones said, "So did you decide to go through with it?" "Yes," Michael answered, trying to sound confident. "Did you talk to your wife?" "Yeah, I talked with Patty." "OK. I talked with my people. They're enthusiastic about it and are ready to go as soon as you say so. I think they sympathize with your situation. They're willing to charge a lower fee than usual." "Whatever it takes." "Michael, you're going to lose all the assets you have on that world. You know that, right? Your government is going to freeze them forever." "Yeah," he said glumly, "But I'm probably going to lose them either way. I have other investments off-world though, so I won't be broke." "Good," Jones said. "Hey, don't sweat it too much. These guys are the best. And the cost of living is way lower here on Meeriad than on Crocop. Trust me." "And I still have the mining platform." "Hmm," Jones pondered, "Maybe, but who knows if your government will decide that it belongs to them since they're going to claim your company for themselves. Could be tricky." "They are not going to take my platform." "I hope you're right. Anyway, if you're ready, I will send the team out." "Send them out," Michael ordered. "And, by the way, who are they?" "Storms, Gibson, and Conner," Jones replied, "I'll give your number to the team leader, Chris Storms. You'll speak with him regarding your 'job' from now on. He'll contact you about what to do next shortly. But please feel free to call me any time if you need to. And good luck. Stay safe." "Thanks, Jones." Michael ended the call and put the phone down. He took a deep breath and left the office. Patty was still in the living room sitting on the couch and staring out the window. She looked to Michael as soon as he entered. "It's done," Michael said, almost with a sound of relief in his voice, "The leader of the team who are going to get us out will be calling soon." "Are they some kind of commandos?" Patty asked, "Military guys?" Michael shook his head, "I don't know. Jones was pretty vague. He called them 'adventurers for hire'. He said they were the best." --- Zanardio, as a particular region of Meeriad is widely known, was home to the majority of the members of SG&C. Chris Storms and John Gibson were seated at the bar of the Electric Griddle in a quaint little seaside town. Chris's phone rang. He snatched it up off the bar and headed outside. John dropped some cash and followed him outside. Chris answered, "SG&C. Chris speaking." "Chris, he's ready to go," Jones said. "Gotcha. Anything more I need to know?" "No," Jones responded, "Just do a good job, OK? I like him. He's got a family." "You know we will." Chris hung up, "This is going to be tough." "No kidding," John smirked ironically, "We have to rescue a guy and his family from a freakin' world government." "We've been through worse." "Have we?" "Sure." John shrugged, "If you say so." "Come on, let's round up the gang and ship out." They headed down to a vacant pier where Jake and Tom were fishing. Jake anxiously turned to Chris and John and said, "Hey, you ready to go?" Tom gave Jake a sideways look, "What, you not enjoyin' the beautiful sea air, the aromatic sights, and the delicious sounds of heavy industrial equipment four or five piers over?" He reeled his line in. The hook was devoid of anything, including bait. "Or the undeniable fact that we have caught nothing in the last two hours?" Jake rolled his eyes, "That one." Chris gave Tom a look as if to say, Are you finished yet? but Tom wasn't paying attention. Chris shrugged it off. "We've got the job," Chris said. "Let's go pull this guy and his family off that rock." Jake and Tom packed up their rods and tackle and followed Chris and John to the Sky Wolf parked nearby. They soon blasted off to meet Jango and Megan at a spaceport in Callice. --- The Sky Wolf landed in temporary parking at Miles-Davis Spaceport and Chris, John, Jake, and Tom piled out. They headed into the terminal. Inside, they found Jango and Megan in a cafe. "Good news," Megan said as the rest of the team approached, "We got a ship." "Pretty cheap too," Jango added, "And he's ready to leave ASAP." "Room for the Wolf?" Jake asked hopefully. Jango gave him a look of please, "Please." "Just making sure," Jake shrugged. Jango pulled up a map on his PDA and set it down on the tiny round table between him and Megan. Everyone crowded around. "Alright, I've got infil and extraction planned out," Jango began, "The transport's going to drop us off here, near Eagle Ridge, just inside the atmosphere. We'll take the Sky Wolf down to the surface. I figure we can land here in this part of town. It appears to be pretty empty, so we should have some time before anyone grows suspicious. From there, two of us can take the Jeep across town to pick the family up." "John and I will go," Chris said. Jango nodded, "Once you've picked them up, make your way back and we'll blast off. The captain will rendezvous with us and take us back to Meeriad. Piece of cake." "I'm sure," John muttered. "What kind of law enforcement or military presence are we looking at?" Jake asked. "There's not a large physical presence. The police don't really patrol since they have pretty much every square inch of the planet under video surveillance," Jango explained. "What about the Sky Wolf?" Chris asked, "Surely that'll raise some eyebrows." "I've got that under control," Jango said, "Short EMP burst before we land. Should knock out any nearby surveillance. According to my research, police response time is notoriously slow, so we should have a good couple hours before anyone shows up to see what's going on. Seems they don't care much about anything but collecting fees from people who violate traffic laws and other such non-sense anyway. And that whole process is entirely automated, so I'm not sure what the enforcers even do most of the time." Jake shook his head, "What a horrible place to live." "Alright," Chris said to draw everyone's attention, "We ship out in two hours. Everyone double-check gear. Jake and Jango, prep the Sky Wolf. I'm going to call Mr. Luller." "And... break!" Jango said suddenly with his palm face-down in front of him. Everyone stared at him. He coughed, stuck his PDA back in his pocket, and walked off to prep the Sky Wolf. Chris huddled in an out-of-the-way corner and dialed Michael Luller. He answered startlingly fast. "Hello?" Michael said. "Hi, Mr. Luller? This is Chris Storms of SG&C." "Oh, yes. Hello. Good to hear from you." "We are good to go. We are shipping out here soon. We should be at your location in fourteen hours," Chris explained. Michael was surprised, "Oh, wow. That's faster than I expected. Do I need to do anything?" "Just sit tight and make sure you've got everyone with you. Unfortunately, you're going to have to leave most of your things behind. There's only room for you, your family, and a couple small bags." "I understand." "We'll see you soon." Chris ended the call. --- Eagle Ridge School for Developing Minds was exactly as Patty Luller had described it, a stone-gray prison-like facility surrounded by eight-foot-high chain-link fence. The surrounding campus was devoid of grass or any kind of greenery. Children were locked inside class rooms for twelve hours a day, drilled relentlessly on patriotism, social engineering, being a "good citizen", and so on. Of course all of these subjects were in the guise of children's stories in picture book or motion picture format and even subliminally through the toys with which they played. Billy Luller was playing with a block game with a few of the other students and the teacher. One of the students was grasping a big stuffed bear with one hand while trying awkwardly to stack blocks with the other. "Where did you get the bear? Can I see him?" Billy asked. "Yes," the student responded and carefully handed the bear over, "My mommy just came back from a vacation in Crystal City. She got him from there." "Oh. Me and Amanda are going on vacation with our mom and dad soon," Billy explained. The teacher's ears perked up at the sound of that. They did so because there were no scheduled off-days from school any time soon, so she found it peculiar that Billy's parents would be planning a vacation with the kids. "Billy," the teacher said, "Where are you going on vacation?" Billy closed one eye as if to think really hard. He soon remembered, "Meeriad! I think that's a planet." "Well, that's very nice, Billy," she said, "If you'll excuse me, I must go for a moment. If you need anything, you can ask Mrs. Randall over there. OK?" With a unanimous "OK, Mrs. Alkor," from the kids, the teacher got up and left the class room. She waddled down the halls of the school, her heels making a loud, reverberated klop klop as she went. She entered the principal's office and waited. Principal Emerson was the on the phone. He soon hung up and turned to Mrs. Alkor. "Can I help you with something?" Emerson asked. "Well, I just heard from the Luller boy that his parents were planning a vacation soon... to Meeriad." Emerson's eyes widened slightly, shocked that anyone would willingly travel to Meeriad. "I'm just concerned for their safety," Mrs. Alkor continued. "And rightly so," Emerson said, "Plus there aren't any vacation days coming up any time soon." Mrs. Alkor nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Mrs. Alkor. I'll address it." She nodded again and vacated the premises. It was unbelievable that someone would plan a vacation to the planet Meeriad, and with young children no less! How irresponsible must these people be? Principal Emerson eventually decided it was a good idea to contact the Ministry of Family and Society to give them a heads-up on what the Luller family was planning. He picked up the telephone and hit speed dial. A droning voice answered, "You've reached the Ministry of Family and Society. How can I help you?" "Please get me Bill Hawking." ---
John Gibson 2nd In Command of SG&C Out of Work, Apparently Dominion Master 8/18/2012 2:24:41 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 39	RE: Luller Shrugged After a few minutes on hold, there was a tone and the line connected. "This is Hawking," barked the voice on the other end of the line. "Bill, this is Principal Emerson at Eagle Ridge School, how are you?" "Hello Principal, I'm doing well. What can I do for you?" "Listen, one of our teachers just overheard a student, Billy Luller, talking about a family vacation soon, but there are no upcoming vacation days, and strangest of all, he said they were going to Meeriad," Emerson explained, "I'm really worried about the boy." There was a short silence; Emerson could hear the clicking of a keyboard over the phone. "That's interesting," Hawking remarked, "Billy Luller from Eagle Ridge? Is that the son of Michael Luller?" "Yes, Michael and Patty Luller." Emerson confirmed. "Hm," Hawking muttered, looking over the file on his screen, "Ah, I see that Mr. Luller recently applied for both temporary and permanent relocation permits to Meeriad, but both were disapproved. The parents probably just didn't tell the child." "Oh, that's good," said Emerson, somewhat relieved, "But I just can't understand why anybody would try to take children to Meeriad. That's irresponsible, makes me wonder what other dangers might be facing these children." "I've noted your concerns, Mr. Emerson, and will forward them to the relevant department," droned Hawking. "Thank you. I wouldn't want the boy to have his future ruined by such irresponsible parenting," Emerson said, "Have a good day, Bill," "Mm-hm." Emerson ended the call. --- At Miles-Davis Spaceport, aboard the T5 Galaxy Snazzy Brunette, Jango and Jake had just finished clamping and strapping down the Sky Wolf to the cargo bay floor while the captain, Rubin Callaway, did his rounds to double check all the cargo with his manifest. His five crew members lounged near the door, waiting for the captain to quit screwing around--they already checked the cargo two hours ago. Callaway was a hefty man with a hefty black beard and a hefty voice; he looked like he came from a background of piracy, with a black bandana hugging his scalp, and a ratty olive drab jacket and hole-ridden fingerless gloves. Finally, after checking all of the other cargo, the captain approached the Sky Wolf, tugged at the ratchet straps and gave one of the landing gear struts a good push. It didn't move, so he was satisfied. "Everything looks good. You guys are my only live cargo, so as long as you boys are ready to ship out, we're blastin' off." the captain said. The SG&C crew gave the affirmative, and before long, Callaway brought the ship gently up out of the docking bay, achieved launch altitude, and punched the collective to the stops at the now-faded and torn "ESCAPE VELOCITY" sticker. John, Chris, Tom, and Megan all collected in the common room, a somewhat dingy but comfortable room on the deck below the bridge. They didn't see where Jake or Jango got off to, but they all assumed that neither was going to leave the Sky Wolf alone in a giant bay, stacked precariously with large cargo crates. John was doing some internet research on Crocop--specifically weapons laws, which they would be breaking en masse. "I'm pretty sure if they see us on Crocop, they'll shoot first and ask questions later," John remarked. "Just keep your guns hidden and everything will be fine." Megan said. "Somebody should really tell Jake that." John quipped.
Tom Fender Member of SG&C Wandered the world like Caine from Kung-Fu and got into adventures Dominion Master 8/18/2012 6:22:16 PM Level: 18 Experience: 26800 Total Posts: 95	RE: Luller Shrugged John continued to read. After a few minutes, he spoke up again, "This is outrageous. People on Crocop are completely forbidden from owning firearms. Knives are even forbidden unless they're under three inches in length." Megan raised an eyebrow, "Three inches? What does it matter what length a knife is?" "You got me," John shrugged. "Oh, and check this out. There are, on average, thirty-two thousand violent crimes committed per hundred thousand people per year." Megan raised both eyebrows, "Wow." "Oh, and about seventy percent are committed with firearms. This is gold," John added. "All those laws are clearly working out really well for them," Jake said from the doorway, "Maybe they should just outlaw people." Jake was wearing two thigh holsters, each loaded with his custom M1911s, and he had four extra magazines on his belt. Megan started chuckling at him; John shook his head. "You might want to go for concealment, Jake," John said, "This planet is covered in surveillance. They'll be on us like Zorishes on deer if you go like that." "Hey, are we there yet? Keep your shirt on," Jake fired back. Jake turned and left to head back to the cargo bay. Chris hovered by a window, watching the infinite blackness of space, the stars so far away that it seemed the ship wasn't even moving. He stared until the PSS system covered the windows in preparation for their entry into hyperspace. With nothing more to look at, he sat down, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind his head. --- It was early morning at the Luller residence, the sun still hours from rising. The Lullers were asleep except Michael. He lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling and unable to calm his mind. All he could think about was the coming day. Would it be as simple as these people picking them up and taking them off-world? It couldn't be that easy, could it? He trusted Jones, and Jones highly recommended these people. So he tried to convince himself that everything would be fine, but he couldn't sleep. A noise from somewhere else in or around the house interrupted his thoughts. It was faint, but definitely there. He climbed out of bed and creeped to the bedroom door; he peered out and thought he saw a flashlight beam outside the front door. His heart began to race. He quietly left the bedroom and moved to the kitchen where he found a rolling pin. The knives were useless due to their blunted "safety tips", a legal requirement for resale on Crocop. Fortunately, the rolling pins could still be legally made of wood. He carefully peeked out of the kitchen. The flashlight beam was still visible outside the front windows. It was moving around erratically. He carefully made his way out of the kitchen, edging closer to the door. He only got a few steps when the door suddenly splintered and flew right off the hinges. He was blinded by a dozen extremely bright lights all rushing in, cutting through the darkness. "Police!" a voice screamed, "Drop the weapon!" Michael was squinting and trying to see. He froze, terrified, but he didn't drop the rolling pin in his hand. After only a split-second, several ear-busting blasts rang out. He felt severe, burning pain suddenly all down his right side. It felt like he was hit with a sledgehammer. He dropped the rolling pin and fell to his knees. He heard screaming from the kids' rooms. He quickly toppled backward and thought he felt knees on his chest. He was turned over onto his face and felt the knees again, but, this time, in his back. They were pulling his arms behind him and slapping cold metal binders on his wrists. The pain in his side was intense. His eyes teared up and he blacked out. The stormtroopers methodically cleared each room. They found Patty and dragged her out into the living room. She screamed when she saw Michael lying face-down and bloody on the carpet. Her legs gave out, but two troopers were holding her up by her arms. They let her fall onto the floor, pushed her face-down, and placed her in handcuffs as well. Two others carried Billy and Amanda out who were crying. They took the children outside. "What do you want from us?" Patty screamed in a tearful rage. The man restraining her ordered her to remain silent in no polite terms. After her wrists were bound, she was turned over to face up and quickly got a face full of nightstick. She went lights out. --- Snazzy Brunette exited hyperspace just outside of Crocop's orbit. It was mid-morning now in Eagle Ridge. Inside, SG&C were prepping the Sky Wolf for mid-air launch. Callaway watched from out of the way. "You guys know what you're doing?" he called. Jake nodded, his focus remaining on what he was doing, "Yup." Jango was inside the Sky Wolf running diagnostics to make sure the engines were going to start so they didn't freefall all the way to the planet's surface. The computer's reports were satisfactory. The others were double-checking gear tie-downs and prepping their weapons. In another fifteen minutes, Callaway called from the bridge over the Sky Wolf's communicator. "You guys ready? We're in atmosphere and approaching your drop-off point," he said. Jake, in the Sky Wolf's co-pilot seat, answered, "Copy that. We are good to go. Give us a countdown and let 'er rip." Jango proceeded to fire up the engines. Jake gave a look back behind him. The rest of the team were strapped in tight. In a couple more minutes, Callaway called back, "I'm opening the bay doors in five..." He counted down the seconds. "Let's rock and ride..." Jake said in a low, anxious tone. At zero, the cargo bay doors right beneath the Sky Wolf opened, and it fell out into open air. Jango gunned the engines. They screamed, nearly to red line, as the ship plunged straight down toward the planet. It broke the sound barrier a long time ago. Huge grins crossed the faces of both him and Jake. The others were well white-knuckled, but Jake and Jango seemed unaffected. After a few very agonizing moments, Jango began to ease the nose up. They could see the ground now. Jake began to punch in coordinates in the computer to guide Jango to their planned insertion point. Following the landing guides on the HUD, Jango flew in near the target. Jake activated the EMP device. It sent out a short-range shockwave that fried any electronics in the area. Jango set it down right on target. Everyone unbuckled promptly and moved down into the cargo area. Chris, John, and Jake began to unbuckle the Jeep while Megan opened the loading ramp and went out with Tom to survey the area. It seemed deserted. Good. In a few short minutes, Chris and John were backing out in the Jeep. With a quick wave to the others, they sped off down the road toward the Luller residence. John had the coordinates entered in the GPS navigator mounted on the dash. The estimated arrival time was ten minutes. They continued on through traffic signal after traffic signal. After twelve minutes, the navigator alerted them that they had arrived at their destination on the left. On the left, however, was an inconvenient amount of "POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS" tape and law enforcement vehicles and personnel. This was not good. They drove on past without slowing down, trying not to look conspicuous. Chris turned a corner and broke line-of-sight with the police. John turned to Chris, his expression grim, "Great, now what?" "New plan," Chris said, "Let the others know." John grabbed the comm handset, "Hey, anybody there? This is John." "Jake here. You got 'em already?" "Negative," John replied, "Local law enforcement seems to have beaten us to the punch." Jake was astonished, "Wha? What do they want with these people?" "I don't know. Looks like it was a raid, probably late night. The front door was smashed in." "Slag" was all Jake had to say. Chris told John to inform them that they were going to check out the local police station to see if they could find some information or the people they were here to rescue. After fighting with the GPS, they managed to find the nearest police station. In a few minutes, they pulled into the parking lot. Figuring there were scanners of some sort and wanting to avoid confrontation just yet, they unpacked their weapons and hid them inside the Jeep. They moved inside the station and walked through some sort of scanner. They were instructed to hold still for a second and to hold their arms out to the sides. They were soon waved through. "What was that?" John whispered to Chris. "You probably don't want to know." They stepped over to a window where an extremely unpleasant-looking lady sat filing her nails. She looked contemptuously up over her glasses at them, "What do you want?" John leaned in and rested his elbows on the slight sill of the window. "Uhh, we're looking for Michael and Patty Luller. Ah, we heard they were arrested sometime today," John said. "Mm-hmm," the lady said. With a heaving sigh, she put her nail file down and rolled her chair over to the computer. Without a sound, she began to type and move the mouse. After a minute, John looked back at Chris with a confused expression. Chris shook his head and offered a slight shrug. After another minute, the lady rolled back over to the window. "Yeah, they were arrested early this morning. Are you related to the suspects?" she asked. "Uh, yes. We're second cousins, in from out of town," John answered. "Can I get your names?" she continued. John sputtered. Just then, the nearby door opened up and several men in suits came out with a few uniformed agents leading a woman in handcuffs. Chris and John observed. The woman looked terrible. She was in her pajamas. Her face had a hideous black and purple bruise across it and her eyes looked dead. At the same time, they both finally recognized who she was. She was Patty Luller, but she looked quite a lot different from the single photograph they had. Someone messed her up good. They shot each other a glance. They had to act quickly, but they still didn't know where Michael was. John went over to the group. "Hi, Patty." he said, "We're your cousins from out of town." "Step away, sir," one of the uniformed agents ordered. Patty's eyes suddenly widened in horror, "They took my kids! They shot him! They shot Michael!" Her legs gave out and she began to sob. The agents began to drag her. John turned back to the unpleasant woman, "Where are they taking her?" "I need your name, sir." "Bocephus." John and Chris marched hurriedly out to get ahead of the thugs hauling Patty. They rushed outside. Outside, they saw custom black SUVs that weren't there before. Those were likely the suits' vehicles. They quickly hopped into the Jeep and re-armed themselves. "They shot him?!" Chris smacked the steering wheel and uttered in disbelief. John, keeping it low, quickly checked the chamber of the ten-inch AR15 and put it back in its place between the seats, "Think he's dead?" "I don't know," Chris said, "I hope not." They watched as the agents and officers exited the station with Patty. Sure enough, they were headed toward the black SUVs. "Got a plan yet?" John asked. "We follow 'em a ways. We have no chance here. We're going to have to take them alone. I don't want to risk having Jango bring the Sky Wolf and blowing our cover," Chris explained, "Once we have her, maybe she'll know where Michael is." Chris started the engine and followed--not too closely--behind the black SUVs. They followed for a few blocks. "They've gotta be gettin' suspicious now," John said, "It's time to do something." "Got a plan?" Chris asked. John pulled the AR15 up, "Disable their vehicles. Pull up beside them." Chris gunned the engine and pulled into the passing lane. They passed the first one and pulled up alongside the lead car. John tried to get a look inside, but the windows were tinted too dark. He nonchalantly rolled down his own window and brought his rifle up. The driver of the SUV noticed and hit the brakes, but it was too late. John already got a clean shot on the front left tire. But it was to no avail. They kept on driving. John let out an exasperated cry. "They've got run-flats!" he exclaimed. The lead SUV was behind them now and in their lane. The front passenger was frantically breaking out an MP5 from its locking rack. He put the muzzle to the gun port in the windshield; Chris saw this. "Slag," Chris said. He changed lanes and braked hard as the agent ripped off a burst; the shots went way off their mark, flying haphazardly out into the city. The SUVs flew past them. Chris mashed the accelerator to catch back up. "Got any more brilliant ideas?" Chris asked John. "Fresh out." "Well, we've blown our element of surprise," Chris said, "Looks like we need the Wolf. Get Jake on the horn." John grabbed the handset, "Anyone there? It's John again." "Jake here, go ahead John." "We've unsuccessfully engaged Patty Luller's captors. They are currently mobile. We need the Sky Wolf." "You sure you want us to fly this thing around town?" "It's our only other option. Get over here pronto. We're on Seventy-Third Street heading east," John said, "And keep in mind they've got run-flat tires. I already tried shooting them." "Copy that. We're on our way." Jango fired up the Sky Wolf's engines. Megan and Tom climbed back inside, closing the ramp, and they lifted off. After only a few minutes, they located Chris and John and the government agents. "Alright, I see you guys." John said over the comm. "Roger that. Which one are they in?" Jake asked. "I think only Patty. She's in the lead car. She said they shot Michael." "Uhh, that's not good." Jake said, "Alright. We're moving in. Hang tight." "What are you doing?" "We got it covered. You just watch." Chris and John glanced at each other, unsure. They proceeded to stare intently out the windshield. The Sky Wolf flew directly over the lead car and matched its speed. Out the bottom hatch came Tom and Jake attached to climbing ropes, each with a steel cable and hook. They rappelled down onto the top of the lead car. Alarmed, John snatched up the comm handset. "Jake, Jake," he said, "The passengers have gun ports in the windshields." Jake looked back quickly at the following car and saw the passenger jamming the muzzle of his MP5 into the port. He yelled for Tom to pay attention. Jake drew his 1911 and fired a few rounds at the bullet-resistant windshield as he dodged to the side. Tom fell over the other side and grabbed the driver's mirror. While he was down there, he hooked his cable onto the frame inside the front wheel well. He climbed back to the top and yelled for Jake to hurry and do the same. He signaled for Megan to reel him in. Tom was pulled back into the Sky Wolf. Meanwhile, Jake hooked his cable onto the front passenger side. He yelled, "No survivors!" as he was reeled in. Jango increased altitude. The cables attached to the SUVs pulled taut. The front wheels lifted off the ground and spun in mid-air. "Keep going!" Jake yelled to Jango over the comm. He was watching out the bottom hatch. Jango pulled up until the SUV was dangling helplessly about five feet off the ground. He slowly reduced the Sky Wolf's speed to a hover. The other SUV turned and stopped, blocking the road. The agents all piled out. Chris jumped the curb onto the sidewalk and went around before the agents could open fire. He took off around a corner, out of their sight. The agents in the disabled SUV grew restless. The front passenger opened his door to climb out to the ground since they were only a few feet up. "Jango," Jake called frantically, "More altitude. They're trying to get out!" Jango pulled up more, leaving the car to dangle about thirty feet above the ground. He followed Chris and John down a side road. "John," Jake said over the comm, "We're going to take them to the landing zone. See you there." "Copy that," John responded. Jake looked back down at the helpless car as the passenger let off another burst through the gun port. The burst pinged into the hull of the Sky Wolf. This enraged Jake. He snapped his 1911 up into the shooting position and unloaded the rest of the magazine into the windshield. While the rounds didn't penetrate, they did create enough frosty white cracks in the bullet-resistant material to obscure the shooter's line-of-sight. He slammed the hatch closed in a fit of rage and jammed a new magazine into his pistol. He holstered it and went up into the cockpit. Jango gave him a quick glance. "Looks like we've got company," Jango said. Jake took a seat in the co-pilot's chair. He looked out and saw a helicopter approaching them. "Don't worry about it. It's just a news chopper," Jake assured him. As it got closer, Jango could see the markings on it for a local television news company. "If we didn't have this stupid truck attached to the Wolf," Jake growled, "We could leave these guys in the jet wash." Jango chuckled. In a couple more minutes they had arrived at their original landing zone. Jake told Jango to keep it in the air until Chris and John could catch up to help lock down the car. So they hovered there for several minutes. Jake seethed; he kept thinking he could hear gunfire impacting on the hull. Shortly thereafter, Chris and John arrived. They hopped out of the Jeep with rifles in-hand. Jake, Tom, and Megan descended by rope from the bottom hatch. Jango slowly lowered the SUV to the ground. Chris and John along with the rest of the team stood by. Jake positioned himself by the front passenger door. "This dirtball's mine," he growled. The SUV landed hard. The engine had flooded and locked, so they weren't going anywhere. The team threw open the doors and ordered everyone to put their hands out in front of them and freeze. John saw Patty sitting in the middle seat in the back. He yanked the agent blocking her out and threw him to the ground. He held him at rifle-point and yanked the Glock pistol out of his waistband. Megan moved around to help Patty out. "We're SG&C," She said to Patty reassuringly, "We're here to save you." Patty, shaking badly, climbed out. She was clearly on the verge of shock and was having a hard time standing. Megan helped her over toward the Sky Wolf. Once Megan and Patty were far enough away for his liking, Jake yanked the front passenger agent out and threw him to the ground. He snatched the MP5 up off the floor and unloaded the rest of the magazine into the side of the SUV. "How's that feel, dirtball?!" Jake whacked the guy in the side of the head with the stock. He then yanked the pistol from the agent's waistband and shoved it into his own and started toward the Sky Wolf. Sirens could be heard approaching fast. "Alright, let's blast off," Chris announced, "None of you guys move until we're out of sight. Got it?" The team backed up toward the Sky Wolf. They turned and ran up the ramp and Jango quickly lifted off. The agents were dumbfounded and enraged. Nobody had ever violated their monopoly on violence before, especially not so flamboyantly. --- The team made it safely back to Captain Callaway's ship, now safely in orbit over Crocop. However, they made it back with only one of the four people they were hired to rescue. They were all resting in the lounge area. Patty was trying to calm down. She was in fresh clothes Megan had lent her and had an ice pack on her head. "You guys are freaking incredible," Callaway said, suddenly breaking the silence. Everyone looked over to him and saw he had a small television set on. On the screen was a news program showing clips of Jake and Tom hooking up to the government SUV and later of it dangling from the Sky Wolf over the city. The headline was, "Terrorists Attack Federal Convoy." Jake read it out loud for everybody. "Un-freaking-believable!" he cried, "Terrorists? Seriously?" "It's what governments call you when you dispute their self-proclaimed authority," John informed him. Jake made a dismissive gesture and plopped down onto one of the tattered sofas, "They can go spit." Chris reminded everybody that there were still three others to get off the planet. They all took seats to plan out their next move. No one knew where Michael was. Patty only knew that he had been taken to a hospital. She also knew that the Ministry of Family & Society had taken her children. They decided that their next move would be to rescue the children since Michael's wounds would likely prevent them from hanging around in orbit without medical attention for very long. The trick was finding the children. The team surmised that they were hauled off to some children's shelter perhaps to rot or until foster parents could be found. Chris decided to make a phone call. He dialed the Ministry of Family & Society agency in Eagle Ridge. After a few rings, someone finally answered. "Hello," Chris said, "I'm calling about two children who you've taken into custody, William and Amanda Luller. I believe there's been a mistake. I'm their grandfather, and they were supposed to be left in my care." "One moment please," the woman said. "I'm sorry, I have no record of that." "Really? That's strange. Could I come see the kids now?" "I'm sorry, we don't make visitation appointments by phone. You'll have to come to the office and bring two forms of identification and your birth certification." "Uh, OK. Thank you." Chris hung up. "That wasn't very helpful. An appointment needs to be made in person, and you must bring 'two forms of identification' and a 'birth certification'. My existence isn't proof enough of that?" Jake patted his dual M1911s smugly. "I got two forms of ID right here." "Looks like we're going to have to do some investigative work down on the surface," Chris said, "Now for Michael." John searched the internet for hospitals in Eagle Ridge that offered secure areas for prisoners. Unfortunately, they didn't typically advertise such a facility, so he had to go by random blogs and forums, so information was sketchy at best. They eventually decided to try the hospitals nearest to the police station at which they found Patty. They'd locate Michael and extract him via the Sky Wolf, preferably from the rooftop. His condition was unknown, so that could be tricky. The plan there was to make it up as they went, which is what the majority of their plans ended up being anyway. Chris, John, and Megan pulled out their mobile phones and each dialed a hospital. "Freeman Medical Center, how may I help you?" "Hi, I'm looking for a patient, Michael Luller." "One moment." Wait. "I'm sorry, there are no patients by that name." "Thank you." It went this way for two more hospitals. Chris dialed another. "Jackson Memorial Hospital, can I help you?" "Hello, I'm looking for a patient you might have there, Michael Luller." "One moment." Chris waited longer than usual. "Sir?" "Yes?" "May I ask who's calling?" Chris looked up at the rest of the team, hopeful. "I'm his second cousin, Chris. I just came in from out of town." "I'm sorry, sir, I can't release any patient information over the phone. If you would like to come in, we can help you with your inquiry. You'll need at least two forms of identification." "Alright, thank you." Chris ended the call. "I think we've found it. Again, we'll need two forms of identification before they give us any info," he said mockingly. Jake once again patted his sidearms. "Alright, here's the plan," Chris began, "John, Tom, Megan, and myself will take the Jeep over to Jackson Memorial Hospital. Tom and Megan will drop me and John off and head over to the Ministry of Family office to gather what info they can. John and I will try to determine Michael's whereabouts. They'll pick us back up and we'll meet back at the Sky Wolf. Got it?" Everyone nodded. "Let's move then." The team prepared and boarded the Sky Wolf once again. Captain Callaway re-entered the atmosphere to drop them off. Once at their target, Callaway opened the bay doors, and the Sky Wolf plunged toward the planet. Once again, Jango redlined it straight down. He and Jake had a blast. The others, however, did not. John made a mental note to talk to them about that later. Jango eventually pulled out of the dive and flew in a more passenger-friendly manner while Jake skimmed GPS maps of Eagle Ridge to find a new landing zone. They couldn't use their old one as it was likely still crawling with government agents. Jake eventually found a suitable location in another slummy part of town. They soon touched down, and Chris, John, Tom, and Megan headed out in the Jeep. Jango and Jake remained behind to watch the Sky Wolf and await their call. The team arrived at Jackson Memorial Hospital. Chris and John headed inside. Tom and Megan took the Jeep and went to the Ministry of Family & Society office a few miles away. Jackson Memorial was an enormous facility. Chris and John paused for a moment before deciding which entrance to use. They went inside. The lobby area was of elaborate architecture with a heavy emphasis on glass, and the place was bustling with activity. They headed over to a help desk where a young blonde woman was smiling at them. "Can I help you gentlemen?" "I think so," Chris started, "We need to know which unit a patient, Michael Luller, is in." The woman politely asked them to wait a moment as she called information up on her computer. After a moment, she looked up with a mild expression of concern. "Oh, I see Michael Luller is in police custody in our secure wing. Are you two officers?" Chris only hesitated a moment, "Yes. I'm Officer Storms and this is Officer Gibson. Could you point me in the direction of the secured wing? We need to see the officer in charge." "Absolutely," the receptionist said, her smile back now. She pointed down one of the many spotless hallways. "It's right down that way. Just follow the signs. An officer will buzz you through." "Thank you, ma'am." Chris and John started down the hall, following the signs to the secure wing. They got the occasional strange look from a nurse or a doctor. Obviously they weren't used to seeing people wandering around down here. Chris would've liked to have a disguise, but he tried to make up for it by looking like he belonged. A badge or something would've been nice. They always seemed to make people on these kinds of worlds feel comfortable. They soon found the entrance to the secure wing. As advertised, it was secure. A heavy metal door barred the way. It looked like it was opened from the inside. A law enforcement agent was in the guard cubicle nearby. He obviously wasn't going to fool this guy into thinking he was a cop. Chris and John made note of the sign pointing the way to the helipad. They turned to go when the officer spotted them. "Can I help you?" he asked. "Uh, I don't think so," Chris said, "I think we made a wrong turn." They headed back the way they came. "What now?" John whispered, "This place isn't small. He could be anywhere. How do we find him?" "We'll have to do it on the move," Chris replied, "Here." Chris suddenly turned down a side hallway. A sign pointed out that it was another way to the helipad. They followed the signs until they found the exit to the helipad itself. They then traced the hallways back to the entrance of the secure wing. At a swift walk, it was only thirty seconds of travel time from there to the helipad, and there was not a lot of traffic. Chris made a mental note. John quickly caught on to what Chris was planning. They made their way out of the hospital to wait for Tom and Megan. Tom and Megan arrived at the Ministry office and found a parking space. They disarmed and climbed out of the vehicle, heading into the office. There was some sort of scanner manned by a police officer right inside the entrance. The officer instructed them to put their keys in the dish and step through the scanner. They did so, unconsciously took deep breaths, and walked through. There were no beeps, which was probably a good sign. They recovered their accessories and moved inside. A man sat behind a receptionist window looking at them expectantly. They obliged by approaching him. "Can I help you?" he asked. "Yes, my good sir," Tom said in a bad British accent, "We are looking for the Luller children, William and Amanda. We were told they would be here." "OK, I will need to see two forms of ID and your birth certification." "You don't need to see two forms of ID or a birth certification," Tom insisted, "It would be a waste of your time as well as mine because if I were to produce such documentation they would be useless to you due to their inevitable and most unfortunate state of forgery." The man behind the window cocked his head to one side, unsure of what to make of this strange man. "Yes, I do need to see documentation before I release any info about children. Forgery of identification is a felony, sir." "Of course it is!" Tom fired back, "Everything is a felony! A man can't even cross the street without breaking four or twelve of your silly laws." "Yes, sir, you must cross in a designated--" Tom slammed his palm down on the counter and pressed his face up to the glass, losing his accent, "I don't give a toss about your designated cut-off points. The only tosses I give right now are where the children are." The accent came back, "So if you would be so generous, my good man." A voice called from behind them, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask that you please remain calm." Tom and Megan turned around; it was the cop at the door. He was standing only a few feet behind them with his hand on his Taser. Tom turned back to the receptionist. "Stonewallin' me, huh?" "Tom, you're screwing this up," Megan hissed at him. She addressed the law enforcement agent: "Everything's fine. Sorry, my friend here is a little exciteable. He forgot to take his pills today." "You can't go back there!" the receptionist cried. Megan swung around to see Tom helping himself to the back offices. The cop rushed past her with his Taser in-hand. Megan quickly jumped on his back and got him into a rear naked choke. They fell backward onto the hard tile floor. The officer struggled, which allowed Megan to get her arms in tighter. She pulled back and he stopped struggling. He fell asleep. "You can't do that!" The receptionist was panicking now. Megan pulled the handcuffs off the officer's belt and glared at the receptionist, "I just did." She cuffed the cop to a leg of the scanner by the entrance. She pulled his pistol out of its holster and shoved it in her waistband and followed Tom into the back. She found him on one of the computers in a back office. One of the office lackies was standing nearby like a deer in headlights. Tom looked up at Megan, "Oh, hey. Come in. I'll be with you in a sec." "We don't have a lot of time. I choked the cop out"--the shocked office worker gasped--"But I'm sure more are already on their way." She watched him for a moment. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" "Not really." Tom fumbled through the computer system for a couple minutes more and found some cryptic reports on "Luller, William" and "Luller, Amanda". "There's an address here," he announced. He looked at the office worker who jumped as if physically struck by Tom's gaze, "Hey, is this address where the kids are?" The worker nodded emphatically. "See how easy that was? That's all I needed to know, and we didn't need to ruin the moment with two forms of identification and birth certificates." Tom wrote the address on a sticky note and got up from the desk. "Marines, we are leaving," he announced and marched out the door. Megan followed out into the lobby. "I'm calling the police!" the receptionist shouted nervously, picking up the phone. "I hope that works out for you," Megan called over her shoulder as they went around the scanner and exited the building. They dashed to the Jeep and screamed off down the road. Sirens were fast approaching but too late. Megan and Tom picked up Chris and John and headed back to the Sky Wolf. "We can insert via the helipad," Chris explained, "We don't even need to come in from the ground. We couldn't get gear in through the lobby anyway." "What about actually finding him?" John inquired. "We'll have to do it the ol' fashioned way--room by room." "Couldn't we use the computer to find his room?" Jake asked. "If you think you can handle it," Chris said. Jake nodded confidently. "The computer's all yours. I assume there's one in the guard's cubicle at the entrance of the secure wing. You can inform us by radio as we sweep the wing." "Now," he continued, "There's the little issue of them noticing us landing our sleek black hot rod on their helipad. They likely have surveillance. Jango, will EMP work?" "If you don't care about potentially frying the life support system of some poor sap or another, then, yeah, sure." Jango responded. "Alright, EMP's out then," Chris announced, "It's bad enough we have to storm a hospital. We don't need collateral damage." "We just fast-rope in before landing and black out any cameras," Jake offered, "Easy-peasey." "OK, that might buy us some time before they're thrown into full panic mode," Chris said. "One can hope," John quipped. "Last thing," Chris added, "If you have to shoot, be very careful. As I said, we don't need any collateral damage. If we're lucky, anyone shooting at us will have the same thing on his mind." Chris turned to Tom and Megan, "Now, what have you found out about the kids?" Tom proudly displayed the sticky note with the address on it and pointed. "I got the address." "Great work. Wasn't too difficult?" "Naw, I just went in the back and used one of their computers," Tom explained. "And I choked out the cop at the front before he tased Tom," Megan shrugged and remembered the gun in her pants. She pulled it out and tossed it in a locker. "Oh," Chris said, "So no biggie then. Excellent." "All in a day's work," Tom said, self-satisfied. Chris had Jake pull the address up on GPS. It was a children's shelter only a mile from the hospital Michael was in. John declared his hope that the children's shelter did not have a secure wing like the hospital. "It won't matter," Chris said to John, "Because you'll be storming the hospital with me and Jake. Tom and Megan will rescue the kids. We need to take them at the same time. If we make one more strike, and they're not completely incompetent, they'll probably finally see the pattern and beef up security on whoever's left. So I think it's crucial that we get everybody out at one time. Everyone ready?" "Let's rock and ride!" Jake shouted. Megan and Tom departed with the Jeep. The Sky Wolf blasted off and made its way toward the hospital. The team prepared their gear inside the cargo hold. Jake readied the fast rope. "We're almost over the hospital," Jango said over their comm ear pieces; Chris confirmed. Jake opened the bottom hatch and peered out. He could see the roofs of the massive medical complex. There were a lot of people down there. He found himself hoping the fact that the Sky Wolf looked and sounded nothing like a helicopter didn't alarm anyone. Jango brought the Wolf down over the helipad in a hover about forty feet up. Jake tossed the fast rope out and slid down, a can of black spray paint in one of his tactical vest pockets. The others followed right behind him. He landed hard and slinked over to the first camera he saw, attempting to stay out of its field of view. There were two other readily-visible cameras. Chris and John crept over to them. Jake nodded and the three of them spray-painted the lenses simultaneously. Chris signaled Jango that it was safe to land and the three of them stacked up at the entrance to the hospital. The Sky Wolf touched down and the engines wound down. Chris, in the lead, swung the door open wide and moved in, the others close behind him. They followed him at a quick pace down the halls, their sound-suppressed rifles held firmly. Shortly, the secure wing lobby area came into view. Chris signaled that it was Jake's turn. Jake unholstered an electroshock gun and moved ahead of Chris. He ducked down beneath the window of the guard's cubicle and went around to the door. The officer was sitting in a chair tapping keys on his keyboard. Jake peeked inside and could see video feeds on one of the monitors. Three of them were black. He stood up and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The officer turned at the sound in time to see the electroshock projectiles reach out and stick him right in the chest. Jake pulled the trigger and, with a rapid ticking sound, sent a huge jolt of electricity through the man's body. He fell onto the floor screaming. The rest of the team rushed to the entrance of the secure wing. Chris whispered to Jake over the comm to look for a way to open the door. Whilst intermittently applying current to the guard, Jake looking for a button or switch. He found one mounted under the desk. It was labeled "DOOR". He pressed it and let Chris know. Chris saw the red light near the door turn green. He tried the handle and the door swung open freely. They moved inside. A doctor suddenly appeared out of a nearby room. He started to panic. Chris put one hand out reassuringly. "Stay calm, sir, this is a drill." The man yelped and ran back inside the room, slamming the door behind him. "I don't think he believed you," John jabbed. They moved down the hall and began to check each room. Back in the guard's cubicle, Jake was punching through dialog after dialog on the touch-screen computer system for patient information. He had to really jab the screen for it to work, and sometimes even then it didn't. He stumbled upon a search function with an on-screen keyboard. He began to poke the tiny little on-screen keys to type "Luller, Michael". Inside the secure wing, Chris and John were making quick progress searching the rooms--no luck yet though. They began to hear the clicks of incoming footsteps from somewhere further inside the wing. Apparently the doctor didn't believe Chris after all and decided to call the police. Suddenly, a group of four law enforcement agents rounded the corner and spotted them. They drew their sidearms and ordered the two men to drop their weapons. The agents didn't even give them a chance to respond. The sight of the heavily-armed mercenaries had them on edge. They began to fire. Chris and John hid in separate rooms across the hall from each other. John tossed a smoke grenade out. The yellow smoke quickly billowed out of the canister and enveloped the entire hallway. The agents continued to fire despite it clearly being impossible to see anything. John smirked across the hall at Chris in a self-deprecating way. "So much for your theory that they might have some regard for the lives of the patients here." Chris rolled his eyes. "Jake, got anything yet?" There was no answer for a second. "Got it. He's on the second floor, room 203." "Good. Get in here. Watch for stray bullets." Jake turned away from the computer screens and gave the guard one last jolt before taking his sidearm from him and cuffing him to an electrical conduit on the wall. Jake pointed firmly at him and told him to stay as if he were a dog. He then ran out of the cubicle to join the fray. --- Megan and Tom arrived at the children's shelter and went inside. Fortunately, there were no readily-visible cops or body scanners. They inquired about Billy and Amanda and, after explaining that they were second cousins of Michael and Patty, were told that the children were in the recreation room. They were allowed inside under supervision. The supervisor pointed the children out to Tom and Megan. They went over to the kids who were by themselves in a corner, staring blankly at a wall. Tom plopped down on the floor behind them. Megan crouched down and leaned in close. "Hi, my name's Megan." The kids didn't respond. They were both staring through the wall a thousand yards. "Billy, Amanda. We're here to rescue you from the bad men and take you back to your mom. She's safe. Our friends are rescuing your dad right now." Amanda blinked. She slowly began to show evidence of life. Her head rolled slowly to look at Megan, "Mommy?" "Yes, your mommy is safe. We want to take you to be safe too." "Are you a police officer?" Amanda asked slowly. Megan looked at Tom who was staring off into space. She looked back at Amanda, "No, I'm not a police officer. I'm a friend of your mommy's. We're going to take you somewhere safe to be with your mommy and daddy." Billy began to stir. "Are you OK, Billy? You ready to go see your mom?" Megan asked. The supervisor was creeping in closely to hear what they were saying. Tom stared silently at her with wild eyes. She backed off a few inches. "Mom always said never go anywhere with strangers," Billy mumbled. "Here," Megan said, pulling out her phone, "I'm going to call your mom so you can talk to her." She called the Snazzy Brunette, and Captain Callaway answered. She got him to put Patty on the phone and handed it over to Billy. In his sudden excitement, Billy shouted, "Mom!" This got the supervisor's attention. Tom's stare didn't work anymore. "Is that the mother on the phone? She is not authorized to speak with those children!" the supervisor exclaimed. Megan stood up and stared her down, "Well, I'm authorizing it." "Yes, sweety, go with Megan," Patty assured Billy over the phone, "She's going to bring you and your daddy back to me," Amanda begged for the chance to talk. Billy said goodbye and handed the phone to Amanda. Megan told them it was time to go and took the children's hands and led them toward the door with Tom in tow. The supervisor's threats to call the police fell on deaf ears, so she stormed out to find a phone. Another woman out by the entrance warned them that they weren't authorized to take the children and that she was calling the police. Tom and Megan continued outside with Billy and Amanda, but they were met by four squad cars and ten law enforcement agents all pointing their weapons at them. Amanda dropped the phone, and her and Billy grabbed Megan's legs for security. Tom paused a moment to take in the crowd of law enforcement and said, "Wow, quickest response time ever." Megan leaned in close to him, "I suspect that they were expecting us to come here." "Oh," Tom turned to face the police, "Hey, you gonna shoot kids?" "They just might. Don't tempt them, Tom," Megan whispered, "We'd better give this one up before somebody gets hurt." Megan and Tom reluctantly laced their hands behind their heads. At least half the agents immediately rushed them and slammed them to the ground, cuffing them and taking their sidearms. All the officers were swearing at Tom and Megan and saying how much they'd love to put bullets in their respective heads. One agent stood and kicked Tom right in the ribs, partially lifting his body off the ground. They finally pulled them up and stuffed them into the back of a police car. After a few minutes, two officers got in the front seat and they proceeded down the road. In almost no time, Megan had gotten her bound hands back in front of her where she proceeded to pull out a lock pick hidden in her boot laces. She very carefully began to pick the lock on her own handcuffs. After only a couple minutes, she got them open. Tom turned his back to her, his hands still behind him, and let her pick the locks on his cuffs. Their hands free, they waited for the car to come to a stop at an intersection. Once that critical moment arrived, Megan turned to face the passenger side window, reeled back, and kicked it right out with both feet, glass exploding out toward a nearby car. She scurried through the opening, followed quickly by Tom. The officers jumped out of the car quickly, drawing their weapons, but Megan caught the passenger-side officer in the door and slammed him in it. Tom scurried around to the driver's side, but that officer already exited the vehicle. Tom firmly grasped the frame and slide of the officer's pistol and pointed the muzzle elsewhere while delivering a sharp jab to his face. This dazed him for a moment, so Tom flipped him over down onto the street, wresting the gun away from him in the process. A shot was fired. It wasn't Tom. He quickly stood up to see Megan grappling with the officer who still had his sidearm. It looked like the shot went stray. Tom called for Megan to back away. She did, the officer brought his gun up, and Tom shot him. He collapsed to the street. People were frantically exiting their cars and running away screaming. Megan took the wounded officer's weapon, pulled his radio handset off his uniform, and rolled him away from the police car. "Come on, we need to get back," she called to Tom. The officer on Tom's side was still struggling to get up with Tom's foot planted on his chest. He grabbed Tom's ankle and managed to topple him. He rolled over to reacquire his gun from Tom. They wrestled on the street. Megan grabbed the wounded officer's Taser, came around to the driver's side of the car, and zapped the other police officer. He stopped fighting for the moment. Tom ripped the radio handset from him and climbed into the driver's seat of the car. Megan ran around and hopped in the passenger side. They wormed their way out of the traffic jam and headed back toward the children's shelter. Tom gunned the engine, weaving through southbound traffic, while Megan operated the radio. "All units," she said, "Suspects from children's shelter have escaped custody and are fleeing on foot east. Last seen at the intersection of One Hundred Seventy-First Street and Maddox Boulevard." Soon, they saw three police cars, sirens screaming, zip past them in the opposite direction. After a couple minutes, they once again arrived at the shelter. There was no sign of police. They climbed out of the car and walked briskly up the front steps and inside toward the common area where they found the children before. Billy and Amanda were sitting on chairs with a couple supervisors talking to them. Amanda shouted, "Megan!" The supervisors turned to see. One was the haughty old lady from before who threatened to call the police. She stood, glaring coldly at Megan and Tom. "I don't know how you escaped from police custody, but--" she trailed off as she realized Tom and Megan were ignoring her. They pushed past her to the kids. "Come on, Billy, Amanda," Megan said in a soft voice, "Let's get you to your mom." Billy and Amanda took Megan's hands and she led them outside, Tom bringing up the rear. The supervisors stood around uselessly as they'd been conditioned from birth to be completely compliant in the face of aggression. Tom, Megan, and the kids rushed to the Jeep and climbed aboard. Tom cranked it up and took off. --- "Slag!" Jake cried, "How many freakin' bullets do these guys have?" Chris, John, and Jake were still pinned down inside various rooms on the first floor. Smoke permeated everything and the constant gunfire was deafening. One whole section of the wall Chris was behind was nearly gone. "We need to move up!" he ordered. "Alright, guys!" Jake called to the shooters, "Last warning, then it's our turn!" The shooting continued unabated. "Our turn!" Jake roared as he backed up away from the door of the room he was in. He got a running start and slid across the floor out into the hallway, lying on his side. He shot two of the officers who were out in the open like they owned the place. They fell and were pulled around the corner by their fellow state agents. The gunfire immediately let up. Jake yelled to move up. Chris and John joined him in the hallway and they moved up toward the stairwell. The other two officers were hiding around the corners on opposite sides of the hall. The sounds of other officers speaking quickly over the radio filled the void that the gunfire left. Jake and Chris rounded each corner at the same time and smacked the agents in their faces with their rifle stocks. As quickly as they could, they cuffed the agents using the agents' own binders and left them lying face down. More troopers showed up from the entrance. It was a special forces team with machine guns and no qualms about suppressive fire in a hospital. Jake fired a few rounds in their general direction before following Chris and John up the stairs. As they ran, John fretted, "I hope we don't have to go back that way." They got to the second floor. The rooms began at 299. More regular cops poured in from the end of the hallway. "Slag," Jake informed everybody. John started to ask "What now?" when Jake suddenly started screaming and ran toward the cops, mashing the trigger on his rifle. Several officers took hits and went down. The rest panicked and scattered, as they'd never trained for a mad man running at them with a machine gun. "Follow him?" John asked. "Follow him," Chris nodded. They rushed down the hall behind Jake, whose screams were still bouncing off the sterile walls. Jake suddenly came to a stop in front of room 203. He flung the door open and cleared the room. No state agents awaited his arrival. Chris and John entered, closing the door behind them. They slide an empty bed in front of it and piled anything heavy they could find on it. Michael Luller was in a nearby bed attached to various monitors and an IV. He appeared to be either asleep or unconscious. John wondered aloud how to get him out. Jake eyed the large window in the room and said, "I have an idea." On the radio, he hailed Jango who answered promptly. Jake explained that he was going to signal from the room they were in, and Jango was to fly over and drop the hoist to extract them. Thought he wasn't confident in this tactic, Jango proceeded to take off anyway. Jake opened the window and lit a smoke grenade. The plume of off-white smoke billowed out into the air where Jango could see it. The Sky Wolf cautiously approached the smoke like a buzzard to roadkill. Jango engaged the auto-hover and climbed down into the cargo area where he attached a harness to the hoist, opened the bottom hatch, and powered the hoist out to where Jake could grab it and pull it inside. John and Chris had just moved Michael, who was now awake, onto a gurney and wheeled him over to the window. Jake proceeded to hook the four-point harness onto it. The three of them lifted it up onto the sill to have Jango pull him up. They carefully slid the gurney out into open air, the harness and hoist rope pulling taught. They stabilized it and Jango powered the hoist in. Suddenly, machine gunfire burst through the wall, a round catching Jake in the vest. Everyone dived to the floor. "What the?! They'll just kill anybody in here?!" John gestured to two other gunshot patients in beds nearby. They could hear somebody pounding on the door, the locked wheels of the barricading bed scraping harshly on the floor with each blow. A piece of equipment they had piled on the bed rolled onto the floor and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces of plastic and electronic components. "Hurry up and get that hoist back down here, Jango," Jake urged over the radio, "Their bullets are comin' in now, and they will be soon." Jango finished reeling Michael in. He slid the hoist over and lowered the gurney to the floor. He quickly unhooked the harness and sent it back down to Jake and the others who were trying their best to dodge random machine gunfire through the walls. Jake looked up and saw the hoist was back and shouted for Chris and John. They all stood quickly and made a mad dash for the window. They each grabbed the harness and Jango wasted no time powering it in. They were barely inside the Sky Wolf when they all started screaming "go go go!" to Jango. He dropped everything and rushed back to the cockpit. The others closed the hatch and tended to Michael. Jango pulled away from the hospital and blasted off in a random direction before finally turning toward the rendezvous point to meet Megan and Tom. His phone began to ring, it was Megan. He answered, "Jango here." "Jango, it's Megan. We've got the kids and are on our way now." "Roger that. We've got Michael and are en route as well." "Excellent. See you in a minute." --- After meeting up, the children had a tearful reunion with their injured father, and the Sky Wolf was on its way back to the Snazzy Brunette. Jango suddenly sat up in his seat, then the comm crackled to life. "Hey, Sky Wolf," Captain Callaway said, "This is Callaway. I'm picking up multiple radar signatures approaching fast." "Me too," Jango answered. "I think it's fighters." Jake sat up as well. Jango repeated, "Me too." "Well, hurry up an' gitcher butt in here. We gotta go!" Jango was already at full throttle; he couldn't go any faster. Jake began readying the weapons. Jango spoke through the intercom to everyone in the cargo hold, "Heads up, we have inbound fighters. Please strap everyone in; this could get bumpy. Thank you for flying SG&C." "I've got 'em. They're VZ48s and still ten kilometers out," Jake said, "Oh, uh, they're bombarding us with radar." "Great," Jango muttered, "They're going to shoot us before we can even see them." "Yup," Jake nodded, "Missiles incoming. Nine kilometers." Jango grasped the flight stick harder as if it would make the Sky Wolf go faster. "Seven kilometers," Jake announced helpfully, "There are four missiles." "Two kilometers to Callaway's ship," Jango retorted. "Five kilometers. Firing flares," Jake said and launched a volley of flares to draw the missiles away. The Snazzy Brunette was in view now. Jango leaned forward in anticipation, "Five hundred meters." "The missiles are off-target," Jake announced. "We're comin' in!" Jango called over the comm to Callaway. The cargo bay doors of the Brunette opened and Jango carefully maneuvered the Sky Wolf inside. The moment the Sky Wolf was secured, Callaway blasted off out of the atmosphere. The fighters circled for a while before receiving orders to return to base. --- Jake and Jango entered the lounge area of the Snazzy Brunette where the Luller family had reunited and the rest of SG&C were resting. "Do Crocop law enforcement have military fighter craft or did the military actually get involved?" Jake asked no one in particular. "I think it was the military," Chris answered, "I think the Crocop government is serious about their hostile takeovers and will make examples of anybody at any cost." Megan came over and pulled Chris to the side, whispering, "Michael's in bad shape. We need to get him to another hospital. He's got numerous shots to the chest." "Can he last fourteen hours?" Chris asked. Megan shook her head, "I doubt it. We should find somewhere closer. Liavor might do. No connection to Crocop, as far as I can tell. Mostly rural, small towns, mining companies. Hopefully some medical. It's only three hours away." Chris nodded, "Alright, have Callaway set a course for Liavor." Megan took off to find the captain.
Tom Fender Member of SG&C Wandered the world like Caine from Kung-Fu and got into adventures Dominion Master 4/9/2013 1:06:48 AM Level: 18 Experience: 26800 Total Posts: 95	RE: Luller Shrugged Three hours, five minutes later, the Snazzy Brunette set down on an open landing pad at a small spaceport in a modest town on Liavor. This modest town was selected for its modest medical facility and modest culinary venues. Chris, John, and Jake accompanied Michael and his family to the hospital while the others remained aboard the ship. Michael was admitted immediately and treated, receiving better care than he was in the supposedly secure wing of the hospital on Crocop. He was deemed to be in critical condition and wasn't able to safely be moved for several days. Callaway and his crew were dismissed to avoid paying him to sit around for days. He bid them farewell and blasted off to find more work. SG&C remained until Michael was stable enough to finish moving to Meeriad. Days passed without incident. Patty and her children were staying in a motel near the hospital, lucky that their credit cards still worked. They were all anxious for Michael to recover and to continue their exodus to Meeriad. Patty and the children spent most of their days by Michael's side. Various members of SG&C would drop by occasionally to check on them, but they otherwise remained at the Sky Wolf. --- A small spacecraft with Crocop government tags landed on the master Luller Mining Company mining platform. The foreman, Henry Billings, a tall, stocky man, strode from the administrative office to the craft as several agents in suits exited. "Can I help you gentlemen?" Henry asked. "We're here to commandeer the operations here." Henry's polite expression immediately turned sour. "I'm sorry," Henry replied, "I'm afraid I don't understand." "Would you please show us to the administrator." "I am the administrator," Henry said with an air of confidence, "And by what authority are you commandeering the operation? This is a private business." "Not anymore," the lead agent said, handing a manila envelope to Henry. He took it and opened it. It was filled with pages of legal non-sense. Henry's head was spinning. He stared at the pages for a moment, but he didn't read anything. "I'm going to have to call Mr. Fuller to get this straightened out," Henry said. The agent shook his head, "Mr. Fuller is no longer with the company. The Crocop government is assuming executive responsibilities now." Henry was at a loss for words now. He just turned and silently walked back into his office, fishing his phone out of his pocket and hitting speed dial for Michael Luller. The agents walked into the administrative office, all eyes turning to them. Michael's phone rang in Patty's pocket. She pulled it out and answered it. "Hello?" "Patty," Henry said, "Is Michael there? We've got a problem." Patty's heart skipped a beat. What was it now? "Government suits are here; they're saying they're commandeering the platform. What's going on?" "Henry," Patty responded slowly, "The government has started a hostile takeover of the company. They—they shot Michael!" Henry swallowed hard. "Is he... OK?" "He's in bad shape. He's in a hospital. We're," She paused a moment, almost divulging the name of the planet, "Off-world." "Holy... Are you and the kids all right?" "We're doing OK. Still in shock from this whole ordeal." "Is Michael there? Can he talk?" Henry asked. Michael was sleeping, but he began to stir. He mumbled something Patty couldn't make out. "He's sleeping right now," Patty said. "Who's that?" Michael asked, his voice barely audible. "Oh, he just woke up," she cupped her hand over the phone, "It's Henry." "Let me," Michael grunted and shifted uncomfortably, "Let me talk." Patty held the phone up to Michael's head. "Henry," Michael said. "Michael! Jeez, man, Patty just told me you were shot! What the slag is going on around here?" "The government wants the company," Michael said, his words forced and low, "We were about to leave the planet when police raided us." "Yeah, man, there are a bunch of suits here now trying to take over," Henry explained, "They want passwords and stuff." "Stall them," Michael said, "As long as you can." "For what?" "I'm going to send somebody to help." "I'll try, but I don't know what I can do," Henry said, "They'll probably just arrest me if I don't give 'em what they want." "Just try, please," Michael pleaded. "You got it, man." Patty ended the call. Michael looked at her. "Patty," he whispered, "Call SG&C in here please." Five minutes later, the team was packed into the hospital room, huddling around Michael. "Mr. Storms," Michael began, "We need you to defend our mining platform. We can't afford to lose it. It's our livelihood." Chris looked up at the rest of the team. He wasn't too keen on the idea of defending a space platform from a government. "Don't worry about money," Michael continued, "I will get you your money no matter what." "Where is this platform?" John asked. "It orbits Com. That's free space. It's not in Crocop's jurisdiction," he explained, "They have absolutely no right to be there." "Yeah," Jake huffed, "And they have absolutely no right to do most of what they do, but that doesn't stop 'em." "Do you know who is there right now?" Chris asked. "My foreman told me a few suits are there right now," Michael said. "OK," Chris said, "Would you please excuse us? We need to discuss this." "Of course," Michael answered. The team moved out into the hallway. "Thoughts, anybody?" Chris asked. "The idea of defending space platforms from a government is very enticing," John's words dripped with sarcasm, "But, hey, whatever. I'm along for the ride." "Well, so far, there are apparently only a few suits there. Shouldn't be too difficult to send them packing," Chris surmised. "But what will they come back with? Police? Army?" John countered, "Whatever it is, it won't be pretty," "You're probably right," Chris conceded, "Anybody else?" "You know I'm all for opening up a can on insufferable scum bags," Jake added. "Because you're a sociopath," Megan quipped, "But you know me—I hate to see decent people get stomped on and bullied. I'm in." "I'm with you guys," Tom added. Chris turned, "Jango? How about you? We'll probably need all the guns we can get." Jango looked tense, but, at last, his shoulders slumped as he let out an exasperated sigh. "OK, I'm in," he said, "But it's gonna cost." "All right," Chris said, "Someone get Callaway on the horn and see if he's still around." --- The Snazzy Brunette slowly approached the mining platform, the gas giant Com a looming backdrop. Chris stood on the bridge near Captain Callaway. A voice came over the comm device, "Unidentified hauler, state your business." Chris picked up the receiver. "This is Chris Storms. I'm here on behalf of Michael Luller, CEO of Luller Mining Company." The voice called back, "This is Crocop government space. You are not authorized to fly here. Please turn around and be on your way." "As I said, I'm here on behalf of Michael Luller, and this is his mining platform," Chris explained calmly, "I will be down there shortly to evict you if you're still there. This is your only warning." Chris set the receiver down and watched the platform grow slowly closer. Captain Callaway slapped him on the back and bellowed, "I like you guys!" After a few moments of silence, the voice came back over the comm. "You are in violation of Crocop government space. If you do not back off now, you will be arrested, fined, and your crew's licenses to operate could be suspended or revoked." Captain Rubin Callaway's considerable mass began to shake with hearty laughter. He abruptly slammed the collective to the "ESCAPE VELOCITY" position, and the Snazzy Brunette careened straight toward the landing pad. The voice called again over the comm, panic evident in his voice, "Reduce your velocity immediately! I repeat, reduce your velocity now!" Chris shot a nervous glance toward the captain. Laughing, the captain slammed the collective in the other direction, the ship's thrusters quickly reversing, causing it to slow considerably with a heavy lurch. Chris made his way back to the crew lounge where the rest of SG&C were waiting. "All righty, folks, let's hustle!" The ship's crew began landing procedures, and the Brunette set down quickly on the landing pad. SG&C, rifles at their sides but pointed at the ground, promptly filed out of the craft onto the pad. Two government agents rushed out of the administrative office with sidearms drawn. One of them barely got done screaming for them to drop their weapons before they both opened fire on the team. The team laid them out quickly and moved on to the office. "Knock knock!" Jake called as he stepped inside and heard an agent that was on the phone saying, "Tangos inbound with automatic weapons and two agents down! They are taking the platform. Send backup ASAP!" Another nearby agent had his gun trained on the team. He loudly ordered them to drop their weapons. The regular office workers were hitting the deck. "You first," Jake sneered and caught a bullet right in the vest. The others quickly ended the attacker. The remaining agent threw his phone and gun on the floor, raising his hands over his head, and shouted, "I quit!" Chris picked up the phone and gun, and John told the man to sit down and stay still. "Where is Henry Billings, the foreman?" John asked. "He was arrested for obstructing justice," the agent replied. "No, no," John said, "Where is he?" "He's in holding aboard our ship." John glanced at Tom and Megan who nodded and headed out to free the foreman. "Hey, guys," Jake called, rubbing his chest where he was hit, "I'm fine." Chris turned toward him, a wry smile on his face, "I know. That's why I didn't ask." He began to explain to the workers that they were there to reclaim the platform for Michael Luller and drive out the government goons. Tom and Megan soon returned with Henry in tow. He had a black eye and a gash on the side of his head covered in crusty blood. "Are you all right, Mr. Billings?" Chris asked. "Mostly," he said, "I took a beating because I was trying to stall 'til you guys showed up." "Don't mess with the government, eh?" John said, playfully punching the remaining agent in the shoulder, "Am I right? Am I?" The agent remained silent, his mouth a thin line. John's demeanor suddenly turned serious. "So," he started, "You got buddies on the way? How many? When?" The agent didn't speak. "Ah, the silent treatment, eh?" he said, "Look, I really don't have any desire to fight your fellow lap dogs, but, if we do, we'll win. I hope you know that." "You sure are cocky," the agent finally said. "It ain't braggin' if you do it and you back it up," John replied. He removed his hat, rubbed his head, and continued, "So, why do you do it?" The agent looked confused, "Do what?" "Your job. Follow orders. Blindly obey. Why do you do it?" "It's a job. It pays the bills and keeps thugs like you from harming innocents." John forced a laugh and looked over at Chris who rolled his eyes. "'Harming innocents'?" John echoed, "The only innocent I see harmed here is Mr. Billings over there whose face was beat open by you people. Can't you think? What were you doing here?" "Claiming the property of the Crocop government," the agent replied. "Gah, you're so blind," John said, "The government can just say something belongs to it and then it's so?" The agent stared blankly for a moment before answering, "Yes." John slapped his forehead and walked away muttering, "Hopeless." "Enjoy your little philosophical conversation?" Chris asked. "No," was the reply. Chris removed a phone from one of his vest pockets and dialed Michael Luller. "Hello?" It was Patty. "Mrs. Luller," Chris said, "It's Chris Storms." "Let me give you to Michael." Chris waited a moment. Then he heard Michael's voice, still low and raspy, "Chris?" "Mr. Luller, we've taken the platform, but there's no telling how long before the government sends more troops." "Is everyone OK?" Michael asked. "Henry's a little beat up—the agents went to work on his face—but he'll live," Chris explained, "But we had to put down a few of the agents. They fired on us immediately." Michael was silent for a moment, then said, "Do you think they'll be back?" "Yes," Chris said, "They were calling for help as we arrived." "Great." "We'll hang around for a while to see if they show up. I'll keep you posted." Chris hung up. "What're we gonna do with this guy?" Jake asked, gesturing to the agent who was still sitting down. "You," Chris pointed to the agent, "Get in your ship and get out of here. Don't come back. This platform is the property of Michael Luller, and you're trespassing." Hesitantly, the agent stood up and headed toward the door. Chris called to him, "And please take your associates with you." The agent went over to collect the body from the office. Tom helped him carry it out to the spacecraft. John and Jake helped to carry the two outside. --- The agent had departed hours before, and everything was quiet. Tom and John were enjoying a game of blackjack at an empty desk in the administrative office while the others were in the lounge of the Snazzy Brunette. Tom hit just as a signal began to flash on the office comm. John threw him a card and got up to answer it. One of the office workers beat him to it. "Luller Mining space platform, this is Alan speaking." "You are trespassing on Crocop government property and have already murdered three government agents," the voice began, "For that, I shouldn't even give you this chance, but I am going to allow you to throw down your weapons and surrender now and you will not be harmed." Alan looked at John weakly, "I think this call's for you." He scurried off to hide under a desk. John took the comm handset. Tom hailed the others on the radio to warn them. "Excuse me? Who is this?" John said at last. "Lieutenant Rogers of the Crocop Anti-Terrorism Task Force," the voice responded, "A perimeter is being setup. This platform is on lockdown. Surrender immediately and you will not be harmed." "Uhhh," John started, "How many of you are there?" "Give yourselves up immediately. This is your last chance." "Let me get back to you." John put the handset down and met the others outside. From their vantage point, they counted six medium warships surrounding the platform. If they tried to escape now, they'd be shot down instantly. The ground assault would probably be soon. What would the task force do if SG&C stopped their ground team? Maybe they'd blow the platform. That was the thing about governments—they couldn't let it look like some "terrorists" beat them. Jake was straining his neck to count the surrounding warships. "How large do you think the atmospheric field is?" he asked. Jango stared at him, slack-jawed and puzzled. Then a look of sudden realization crossed his face. "No, dude," he said, "You can't take on six warships with the Sky Wolf from within the platform's artificial atmosphere." Jake squinted and squared his jaw but said nothing. "It's just really sick," Tom started, "That they can't leave well enough alone. You know?" "We did kill three of their guys," Megan said. "Maybe they should've thought about that before pulling this stunt," Tom shot back. "They're used to beating up on pushovers," Megan offered. "Good point." Henry walked outside to see what was going on. He noticed everyone looking up and saw for himself. "Henry," Chris said. Henry looked back down, "Get your people aboard our ship quickly. Things could get ugly very fast." Henry nodded and rushed back to the office. In a couple minutes, he reappeared followed by all the platform workers, but, suddenly, the entire platform shook violently as several infantry drop pods slammed into it. Highly-trained operatives began to pour out, four to a pod, dressed in black fatigues, covered in gear, and carrying high-tech small arms including rail and beam weapons. They weren't here to chat. They began shooting right away. Everyone ducked for cover or concealment behind various pieces of equipment and outcroppings of the platform's structure. Chris and John laid down fire while Henry and the other workers rushed to the Brunette. Jake shouted to everyone to be wary of the railguns and concentrate fire on the soldiers with those. Railguns fire high-caliber projectiles at much higher velocities than conventional projectile weaponry, and thus are able to penetrate much thicker armor. Chris readied his M203 grenade launcher, popped out from behind his concealment, and fired it. The blast took out a group of three soldiers. One railgun down. Fire immediately began to pound his position more heavily. He yelled that he was pinned and needed cover fire. John and Jake obliged, pinning several men down while Chris ran to another position. John stopped to reload his P90 and heard a metallic clink nearby. He looked down by his right foot and saw a plasma grenade. He dropped his fresh magazine to snatch the grenade up and heave it as hard as he could away from his hiding spot. He heard—and felt—it explode uncomfortably close. He scrambled for his magazine and finished reloading. He checked to make sure the workers made it to the ship—they did. "Give it up," Jake cried out, "You can't win!" He dived for a new hiding spot as his old one was promptly pulverized by railgun fire. He let off a burst with his 552 rifle and winged one of the counter-terrorists. "Hey," Tom called to John, "Isn't it about time one of us got hit?" "You!" John shouted over the din of the battle, "Shut your face!" "OK, well, I just thought—" There was a snapping noise as Tom was cut off. "There it is." He said and toppled over. "Slag it, Tom!" John cried, "Tom's hit! Tom's hit!" He pulled a smoke grenade out of a pouch on his vest and heaved it out into the open area between him and the Snazzy Brunette with a "Smoke out!" He got Tom to his feet and helped him through the smoke and over to the ship for better cover. He plopped him down inside the doorway at the end of the boarding ramp. He pointed an accusing finger at Tom. "Next time, Tom, you stay quiet!" "OK, Mom." John ran back out into the fight. Colorful energy beams criss-crossed through the battlefield. The sounds of railgun slugs ripping enormous holes into the platform and equipment was pervasive. "This needs to end soon," Chris yelled to John, "Or there won't be a platform left!" "Did you ask nicely?" "Not yet," Chris responded. John peeked out from behind a piece of machinery and counted four or five soldiers as they moved in and out of cover—it was hard to keep track. "Only four or five left!" he shouted to Chris. The platform shook again, but this time it was even harder than the drop pods. Chris and John both peeked out and were horrified at what they saw. The Anti-Terrorism Task Force had just deployed a Mack Walker. Its thirty-foot chassis was equipped with auto cannons and missile pods. They pulled their heads back behind cover and looked at each other. "We're so dead," they said in unison. "These guys mean business!" Jake was screaming from across the open area, "We have to take it down! Somebody get the rocket launchers!" The Mack opened up on Jake, its auto cannon firing at a thousand rounds per minute. Jake's cover was shredded. Fully aware that its 30mm rounds would turn him into a fine powder, he made a mad dash for the Brunette, the Mack adjusting its point of aim to try to hit him. "I've got some rockets," Tom announced over the radio. "Great!" Jake screamed, winded from his sprint to the ship. He made it to the bottom of the boarding ramp when Tom appeared in the doorway taking aim with a Striker rocket launcher. Jake screamed "do it!" as he hit the deck. Tom didn't wait for a target lock. The Walker was standing perfectly still. He fired. In the blink of an eye, the missile struck the Walker in the cockpit. The burning husk toppled over onto one of the soldiers. Two more were ducked behind another piece of platform structure. Tom casually reloaded the Striker, aimed, and fired at the two. They along with their cover disintegrated. The scene grew quiet, except for the crackling of the smoldering Walker chassis. "Is that it?" John called out from behind cover. Jake surveyed the area before answering, "Looks clear." "Everyone, sound off," Chris shouted. Tom, Jake, and John announced themselves. There was no one else. John looked around, "Megan?" "Here!" came a faint reply. John found Megan behind some collapsed machinery, her leg bloody. "They shot me in the shin," she said with a weak smile. "I know the feeling," John replied, returning a sheepish grin. "Jango?" Chris spun around to find him, "Where's Jango?" "Drop your weapons!" Everyone turned to see a soldier come out from behind the administrative office using Jango as a shield with a pistol to his head. "You drop yours," Chris ordered, "You shoot him, it's game over." "Believe that," Jake added. "Unlike you, we're not out here to kill everyone to the last man," Chris said, "Let him go and you're free to go." "Shut up," the soldier shouted, "The Crocop government doesn't negotiate with terrorists." "Oh brother," John rolled his eyes, "Dude, pull your head out of your rear and—" There was a loud rifle report, startling everybody. Jango about wet himself when he thought he just got shot in the head. The soldier crumpled to the ground. Jake lowered his Remington SR8. "We don't negotiate with terrorists either," he said. Everyone else groaned. "So, I guess now they glass the platform," Tom said, pointing up at the perimeter of warships. They all stared up, wondering what would happen next when their radios crackled to life. "Hey, guys, an Enforcer fleet is approaching," Captain Callaway called, "I'm picking up transmissions from them. Sounds like they're talking to the Crocops." Everyone exchanged nervous glances and headed inside the Snazzy Brunette. They made their way up to the bridge to hear what Callaway was hearing. "You have no jurisdiction here, Crocop," a voice was saying over the comm. "You Enforcers can go space yourselves," a gruff voice shot back, "This is official Crocop business. You can check with the Crocop Ministry of Interstellar Defense—" The man was cut off. "Your 'Ministry of Interstellar Defense' has no authority here, Crocop," the Enforcer voice replied, "Vacate the premises immediately or be fired upon." As if to punctuate his sentence, an Enforcer capital cruiser uncloaked nearby, its sheer mass dwarfed all the Crocop warships put together. It was a sleek, smooth cruiser with dark blue Enforcer detailing and running lights. Several tense moments passed before the gruff voice finally said, "We are returning to base." One by one, the Crocop warships slowly left their positions and headed back into the blackness of space. The Enforcer voice began talking again, "Mining platform, do you read me?" "Do you want to talk to him?" Callaway asked. Chris nodded. Callaway handed him a handset and began to inject his signal into the transmission originally intended for the comm in the administrative office. "We read you, Enforcers," Chris responded. "Is everyone all right down there?" "Roger that. Crocop forces were expelled," Chris said. "Copy that," the voice confirmed, "Do you require any medical assistance?" "Uhh," Chris hesitated for a moment, peering around at his bloodied comrades, but decided it was best not to have the Enforcers any more involved. "Negative. We are set down here. Thanks." "Roger that. Stay safe, citizen." The transmission ended. "Even though they saved our hides," Jake said, "They're still condescending jerk wagons." "I for one have never been so glad to see the Enforcers," Megan said through her teeth as John attempted to treat her injury. "Guess they can be good for something after all," Jango said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find some fresh pants." He hobbled off into the bowels of the ship. --- Chris was in the lounge on the phone with Michael Luller. "The Enforcers arrived and drove off the Crocop ships," Chris told the story, "I doubt you'll have to worry about the Crocop government... at least for a little while. Your people here suffered no casualties. The platform sustained moderate damage, but I think you'll have to talk to your people about that." "I understand," Michael said, "How is your team?" "A couple of us took some hits, but no one is dead," Chris reported. "I'm sorry," Michael rasped. "Don't worry about it. We knew what we were getting into, but thanks for the concern. We're going to finish up here and be back over there in a few hours. Talk to you later." He cut the connection and pocketed the phone.

Daireem © 2006-Present Clint Blizzard. All rights reserved.
The Furry Trio Message Board™ copyright © 2001-Present Wolf McDog. All rights reserved.
This site is owned by Clint Blizzard.
This site was created by Clint Blizzard and is not maintained very well by Wolf McDog.