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Blood Hounds - Ch. 3 : First Day on the Job


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… The world is full of scumbags. There are thieves, murderers, mad scientists and masterminds. That’s why we’re here…

 

..::Ryan Hackett::..

The black haired red fox sat sort of lazily in the command chair on the bridge of his new custom built carrier. He was typing information onto a tablet, specifically he was writing a flier that would go out on various advertising methods both showing off his services and acting as a “Help Wanted†sign. “Guns for Hire,†he said. “It’s not what I want in the end, but I think it’ll catch some eyes.†He continued dotting around and finally gave the flier a bright yellow color so it would stick out. He eyed the “send†button, then looked over the flier before tapping the icon on the screen. He set the tablet to the side and leaned back in his chair, looking out into the serene quiet of space. “Let’s see who’s out there,†he said propping his legs up on the coffee stool in front of him.

 

 

KATINA::OUTPOST 4_

 

Day 67 of the off season, and a paricular gorilla already had a gig lined up. The flier had been crudely stapled among the figurative trillions of other fliers, and in fact he would have never have seen it if he hadn't flung the board to break the oncoming charge of a Rhino.

 

GUNS FOR HIRE it said in bright yellow text, and already he knew he would be in without question. After all, no employer yet had turned down his Gatling Gun's suppressing cacophony. Ian doubted anyone ever would.

 

 

CORNERIA::DELTA CITY_

 

As usual and in between jobs, a certain German Shepherd returned to the terrestrial spaceport docking bay 6, his head still buzzing from last nights drinking binge. He was just within the threshold when he stopped himself upon hearing the familiar crackle of security force comlinks. As he peeked around the corner, he silently groaned and whispered a sharp 'Dammit' under his breath. The CDF had finally caught up with him and was in the process of impounding his only means of transportation.

 

   He dove back, placing his back firmly against the wall and grit his teeth, thinking about the debts racking up around him. He looked up into the sky as the twin suns above were setting on this world and on him. He had to think fast, they knew he was in the city, but that wasn't what he was focused on. It was the money he had to come up before his deadline with Desmio Kariddian, kingpin and the only remaining first member of the ruthless Me'Langa Cartel. Four hundred thousand to be precise.

 

   But as if by fate, lady luck or some careless idiot who dropped it, a yellow flier had twisted in the wind floating before landing on the Shepherd's snout. He removed the piece of paper and read it to himself.

 

   "Hmph, well this looks promising."

 

   Looking out for anymore trouble, the Shepherd disappeared into the intersecting crowd ahead, heading to find a fare to take him off world.

 

 

CORNERIA::CORNERIA CITY_

 

As she walked down the street, a White Vixen held her head as her mind raced. How will she support herself? Will she have enough money to last her until her next job? Getting fired was absolutely the worst thing that could happen to her. Suddenly, she heard something coming from a group of TV's within a window. She stopped to look and saw an advertisement for Guns for Hire. As she watched it became more and more interesting by the second. Catching scumbag villains could maybe lead her to catching the sick, experimental freaks she dealt with through her childhood. With a grin, she pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down the contact information. "I guess my luck is changing. Guns for hire, here i come".

 

 

FORTUNA_

 

The bar fight escalated to a disastrous level quite quickly. That terrier bastard surely got his ass handed to him in a dog pile while the jaguar made a quick, silent escape; the whole place itching to pretty much kill him. Not only did he get to deal some mad damage to that damn dirty dog, but he also got his wallet on his way out. Some cash and... what's this?

 

"Directed to: Victor O'Toole

Guns for hire."

 

"Well... I could use a bit of cash. Hope they didn't ask for him specifically. I can always pretend." he said the last part on a convincing accent as he threw the wallet away.

 

BLOOD HOUNDS //

..:: Chapter One - Guns for Hire ::..

 

..:: Ryan Hackett ::..

Hackett had fallen asleep on the bridge, snoring as his face pressed into the main console. The only thing that kept the ship from flying into a black hole was big red text marked DISABLED on the screen. That was until a loud high pitched beep woke him up. He drowsily woke as he brought the main interface back online, typing in commands to see just what was going on. Reading through the text half-awake, he found the problem, or rather good news. "Huh... New applicants..." he said. He grinned and input coordinates, bringing the ship about and setting a course for the rendezvous point of Fichina. That was the first test to any who applied. If they can't take the ice cold climate of the place that has the best frozen yogurt in the universe, they dont have the privilege of stepping foot on the Executor, much less it's stock of alcohol.

 

...

 

About a day later, the ship was pulled into the main starport of Fichina, guarded by the Cornerian Military who obliged through association. Even though Ryan left, he was respected as a retiree and was often well spoken of. He made sure to leave with a good reputation and favors to collect. After docking, he walked down the exit ramp and passed two Cornerian Soldiers. He turned toward the ship, taking out a datapad and swiping in a few hidden commands. The pattern in question brought the Executor's docked defenses online, exchanging the armor-piercing rounds with anti-infantry and locking the ships access terminals. No one in or out. He saluted the two guards who saluted in return before walking off into the first outpost, braving the cold winter of Fichina.

 

[[Alright. The first objective is simple: Find Hackett on Fichina and pass on the interview. Your mission begins now. Good luck!]]

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Grunting with exertion, Ian Simson hoists the crate containing his worldly possessions from his shoulder and places it on the table in front of him. The young Lupine aside him watches as he cracks both the seals on it and lifts the heavy metal case upwards.

 

Ensconced in worn red velvet, his Gatling Gun sits almost serenely on the cold metal table. Reaching into the breast pocket of his overcoat, he withdraws an equally worn sheet of paper, folded and creased to near oblivion. 

 

"My License for the weapon" He says, placing it into the officers's hands. He then shoots his hand out, clearing his arm of his sleeve to gaze at the time. 

 

Plenty of time, always plenty of time.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"This is my stop." Hey says much later, looking at the windswept wastes of the frozen desert. Gripping his case in a single hand and taking great care to keep his extremities inside the warmth of his coat, Ian steps off the fighter and moves onwards to his next job. 

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Ashlin had managed to catch a last minute shuttle off Macbeth and landed on Fichina not one hour ago. Spawning from the desert, she didnt own any type of jacket or warm clothing, just a sand colored sheet she used to drape over her shoulders and head to bare against the harsh wind. Being in a tanktop didnt help either, but if she could withstand the burning temperatures of Titania, then this couldnt be a problem. She hoped.

 

Passing security had been smooth and easy. She contained registration for all her weapons and didnt carry anything that didnt fit into her backpack. Waiting, now that would be the hard part. She stood against a railing near the meeting point, her goggles pulled down over her eyes to keep the snow and wind from blinding her.

 

Even as she sat there shivering, Ashlin had to admit Fichina was quite beautiful. The snowy dunes and canyons she saw on the way down reminded her a lot of her home, just in a diffrent color. And if it wasnt for all this damn ice and snow, she thought it might a been a nice place to live.

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[Alright, to keep Ashlin from freezing to death, I'm gonna go ahead and reply. I will only do this in certain cases such as this]

 

..::Ryan Hackett to Ashlin::..

He was waiting at the top of the steps, sort of secluded in the background. He let the vixen pass and waited for a second to see how she would react to the cold. He looked down at her from behind his visor, and finally lifted it up to his forehead, walking down to meet her. "Ashlin?" he asked as he reached her. "I'm Ryan Hackett. The guy who sent out the fliers. Follow me. We'll get you some place warm."

 

..::Cornerian Soldier to Ian::..

The soldier looked up at him for a second, then down to the paper, then to the gun. He hesitantly handed him back the paper as he lifted an eyebrow, giving the guard at the gate the O.K. with a thumbs up. The guard nodded, then opened the gate, letting the ape through.

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Zephir Sokolovskii was already in the Fichina base. Conversing with some on-base scientists to past the time. Especially when younger scientists argue within his field. A younger scientist began, close to yelling, "You can use a Black Hole to time travel! The gravitational pull would allow time flux since since..." The scientist began writing a formula:

tr/t = âˆš1-rs/r. 
"It is not possible," Sokolovskii started as he walked to a large computer screen, taking a electronic pen. "Yes, time would speed up however..." He began writing.

(r - GM)2 = G2M2 - J2 cos2 Θ appeared on the board in a large formula.

"Without co-rotating with the body, you would fall into the Event horizon. With co-rotation time wouldn't change." He heard the faint sound of the docking bay open. Maybe it could be the job offer finally arriving. He then turned to look at the scientist, removing a pipe from his mouth. "You do have ideas, my friend. I do hope you leave this distasteful job and advance your studies." He handed him the electronic pen. Turned and walked away. He maintained a smooth figure, taking a puff from his pipe. "Time for things to get exciting." He thought.

 

(OOC: Thanks for naming the ship after me. Made me feel fuzz inside. :-P )

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Lennox managed to arrive to Fichina a pair of days ago, enough time for him to forge all papers necessary, both to his name and that dog's name he stole and changed the species to fit him. He dyed jet black from head to toe, tied and hid his long hair and perfected a gaelic-sounding accent just in case he needed to play the part. Regardless of who was needed, they'll surely appreciate his alternate skills if the cover was blown and this money could come easy.

 

Security was a bit rough, like always. Cornerian Dogs to felines, it was obvious. He gave his "Victor O'Toole" named papers and documents, but they didn't seem to take much notice to the name. Some "health related justifications" for some of his items later, he was later let inside; the guards seemigly taken aback a bit,

 

He zipped up his leather jacket and tried to see who was the one that would reach him.

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The red furred vixen stood on the bridge of her ship, a small repurposed freighter looming above the ice-world Fichina.  She gazed at the vast white sphere and slowly nodded.  "This is definitely the place" She mumbled to herself, as she headed to the lift.  The fox pressed a few buttons on the control panel fastened around her wrist, and the lift closed, starting its descent to the makeshift armoury, which used to be the crew quarters.  She stepped into her room to put on her jump armour and grabbed her assault rifle and sidearm.  

Heading down to the cargo bay, she secured her helmet on, looking out the window once more, before she made her primary checks.  Parachute: check.  Stabilizer fuel: check.  Oxygen tank: check  Weapons: check.  Ammunition: check.  She was good to go.  The vixen stepped into the airlock, checking the display on her wrist to make sure autopilot was engaged for low orbit.  Bracing her feet against the tracks, Elektra crouched down, slamming the large red button to her right with a closed fist.  

The heavy blast door in front of her opened, and she was shot towards the planet, the sudden pressure change quite jarring to her.  The vixen knew what to do though, maintaining her crouched form until she reached the lower levels of the atmosphere, the specially designed jump armor absorbing the heat of the friction that would have burned her to a crisp otherwise.  

She opened her body up to spread out her surface area, slowing her fall by just a bit as she started to count.  60, 59, 58, 57...  She waited, and counted, hurtling towards the planet at terminal velocity.  It wasn't so bad once you get past your first three jumps.  

5, 4, 3, 2...

With a hearty middle finger in the vague direction of the nearest space port, and subsequently customs, Elektra pulled her chute, bracing as the sudden tension of the cables that were fastened to her back jerked and her descent slowed further.  Before long she was on the ground.  The vixen brushed off her slightly blackened armor now, as she pulled up her GPS, scanning around for the meeting point, and nodding once she found it.  This was where she would find the contract.

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Ian snaps the case back into a single large container and moves into the facility, keeping an eye out for his near future employer. He had come to expect some sort of interview before they wanted to see what he could do, so he was decked out in the finery of his assumed station.

 

A sterile long coat, dress pants, and his polished black boots should be enough for a first impression. The Cigar clenched in his teeth would probably hurt a little, but some vices had to be excused.

 

Up a set of stairs onto the top of a fairly large observation deck, he places his large container down and surveys the area, letting out a large puff as he gazes for his employer.

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A ship docks into a Space Port on Fichina. A wolf, dressed in a black dress suit with a glowing design and hat gets off carrying a large doctor's bag.

 

He checks his watch, looks like he's on time. He starts toward the meeting place he had been told about.

 

"This better be worth the time." the wolf doc thinks to himself. Fichina wasn't exactly on his top list of vacation but at least he could take the cold well and the desserts were good.

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The Arctic Vixen arrived on Fichina, wearing a black pencil skirt, a nice, sleeveless, white button up collared shirt, and heels. She looked around at the frozen wasteland where her mother had grown up years and years before, which gaver her the attribute of long, white fur. It made a great insulation of heat and also great Camouflage in places like this. She quickly walked into the ladies room, where she looked at herself in a mirror to make sure she looked ok. Her black hair was neatly put into a very nicely done bun, but her bangs still covered her right eye. Star nodded in approval and left the restroom, carrying her bags towards where the meeting was said to be held.

 

"I really hope I don't bomb this interview.....I already used 3 months worth of grocery money just to get my ass over here" she thought to herself, ascending the stairs and reaching the top where she met a guard. She reached into her bag and pulled out a file full of her paperwork, reaching out her hand as if to hand it to him.

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..::Hacket to Zephir::..

 

The fox walked into the base, sporting is usual grey flight jacket, black combat boots, black cargo pants, and a black undershirt with yellow stylization to go with his golden eyes. He also had what liked like a face mask pulled down under his chin (look at the guy from Watchdogs for a good comparison) and his jacket was halfway zipped. As he passed through the door, he eyed the scientist and put on an inviting smiled. "Mr. Sokolovskii, I'm Ryan Hackett. Former CDF pilot and professional merc." He held out a hand to shake his. "Let's talk business."

 

(also, no. I didnt name it after you. Darth Vader's personal Star Destroyer is the Executor.)

 

..::Hackett to Lennox::..

 

Hackett knew who he was dealing with this time. He admired this applicant's attempt at assuming a role, but he was able to pinpoint him as he traveled through the outpost. "Mister O'Toole," he said with a convincing grin. He walked toward him from behind wearing his usual flight suit. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I realize it may have been difficult for you to leave so soon," he said extending a hand out to him.

 

 

..::Hackett to Elektra::..

 

The red fox waited down on the surface as the snow storm raged. He was wearing his mask over his face with a snow visor and heavy coat over his usual wear, and standing near her landing zone. As he saw her touch the ground, he started clapping with a grin under behind his mask. He paused clapping so he could remove it. "Bravo! Bravo indeed!" He had an extra coat which he handed to her. "I'm Ryan Hackett. The merc you've been in touch with. Let's find a place warmer and talk," he said over the raging winds.

 

 

..:: Hackett to Ian::..

 

The red fox in his flight suit was looking out towards the frozen wasteland, looking for his contacts' reflections in the mirror. As he saw the ape walk in, he put on his customary smile and turned to face him, walking toward him. "Mr. Simson, my name is Ryan Hackett, your mercenary contact." He extended his hand to him. "Let's talk."

 

 

..::Hackett to Derek::..

 

Hackett was waiting at the meeting place, leaning against a wall and going through different interviews on his datapad. "Hmmm.. The gorilla stays, and so does the skydiver. Huh. She was kinda cute too..." As soon as he saw the doctor out of the corner of his eyes, he packet the datapad away and turned toward him, putting on his smile again and walking toward him. "So nice of you to arrive, Doctor. I haven't had a check up in two years, so I guess now would be as good a time as ever." he said extending a hand to him. "Ryan Hackett. Let's talk."

 

 

..::Hackett to Star::..

 

Was being devilish with this one. He accepted the vixen's papers and examined them for a minute before handing them back. "I'm sorry ma'am. It seems as though you stumbled onto a job." He lifted his head finally revealing his face under the large CDF officer's cap, giving a bit of a grin. "You're going to have to come with me." He opened the gate, letting her through in his Cornerian guise and escorted her to a back room. "Ryan Hackett. Thank you for making it here so soon. I'm aware of your current predicament, and if you dont have sufficient skills, then I think I can at least make a compromise somehow." He started taking off his disguise as the entered the room. It was a dimly lit room with two chairs and a table, almost like an interrogation room only there's no hidden window. He took a seat in the chair, now in his flight suit and propped his feet up on the table. "Have a seat." He said directing her to the seat across the table.

 

 

..::Hacket to the Deep Recesses of his Mind::..

 

Jeez... I didnt think so many people were going to respond. I've already turned down a bunch, but these few seem to be promising. I'll have to keep tabs on one or two of them, maybe a third for kicks, but most of them seem alright. This is gonna be fun.

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Ashlins ears perked up when she heard her name, turning to see someone standing before her. He introduced himself as Ryan Hacket and apparently this might be her new boss. She stood there for a second and looked him over from behind her goggles, then flipped them off her eyes and sat up. "Sounds good to me." She stated, following him.

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Star smiled and sat across from him. "I really appreciate you considering me. I have some skills that could be an asset to the team. That is if you need a technical expert" she said with a little confidence in her voice. 

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   Ansam was awoken by the driver of the rig, his elbow penetrating his long shin high coat in his rib cage.

 

   "Wake up," he said, "we're here."

 

   "Bout time." Ansam lamented, one eye open scanning the terrain through the forward view port. Nothing but snow and the vague silhouette of docking ports. The freighter ride was slower than he anticipated and hoped he wasn't late for any applicant process. He then rose from his seat next to the pilot's chair and heading in the direction of the hatch and boarding ramp. "Much obliged."

 

   The shepherd was about to leave when he remembered a agreement he made prior.

 

   "Uh, don't I owe you 200, you know half now half when we get there?"

 

   The pilot looked up from his station passed the brim of his sweat stained ball cap. "No bother, I was headed out this way anyhow."

 

   "Well if its all the same," he said feeling his interior coat pocket, "I'm gonna need my wallet back."

 

   The rig pilot had already swung back to his controls when he looked to see Ansam still standing there with his hand girded above his holster. He let out little chuckle, "Why, did you lose it?"

 

   "Give it back or I'll..."

 

   "Or...what?" said the rig driver removing a rather familiar sidearm from his vest. Ansam quickly checked his holster and discovered it was empty.

 

   "You know I thought I recognized your face on some wanted posters around. The CDF will pay quite a sum to have YOU in custody. Now hands up."

 

   Ansam complied, raising his hands above his head as the fat rig driver began to rise from his seat. He was off guard for a second, Ansam swiftly kicked the 50 cal pistol from his hand. The pistol discharged missing his head by inches. All it took was a right cross to knock out the rig driver as he fell like a sack off potatoes to the deck. The shepherd started retrieving his items of interest and in the process emptied the contents of his attackers wallet into his.

 

   "Pleasure doing business with you," said Ansam as he lit a fresh cigar and started in the snow toward the spesified cor-ordinances.

 

 

 

   When he had arrived, he noticed Cornerian Soldiers guarding the boarding ramp and thought long and hard how he was going to in the ship docked at the spaceport. He noticed some Fichinans loading crates on the ship, passing the guards unnoticed as they entered. After locating some snow gear he grabbed a crate, followed the others onto the boarding ramp, passed the guards and into the ship where he quickly discarded his hat and arctic coat.

 

   "Okay, lets see what this is all about."

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Ian smiles and receives Hackett's hand, shaking it vigorously. He places his container on the ground and removes his Cigar to speak, first making sure to let out the puff he had held in. 

 

"It is my pleasure. I haven't had a proper interview in quite some time, so excuse me if i stumble over myself." He pauses for a thought to cross his mind. "Many of my employers wished to see the gun before i was even considered. Would you?"

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The fox seemed like he was the employer. Lennox thought his gestures were a bit too fake; then again, he might've known the guy who he wanted to hire. But alas, the cat decided to continue his charade, since there was still a posibility that he didn't know the guy face to face.

 

He shook his hand. "It was a bit hard to find shuttles to Fichina, Ryan. The bloody system can collapse quite badly" he said, evoking the dog's voice and accent as much as he could remember. He overheard the name Ryan a couple of times, so he was sure it was his name.

 

He unpacked a cigarrette, fresh from the box, and lit it up while he waited with the rest.

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Elektra nodded to the fox but declined the coat.  Her jump armor was warm enough.  "Where do you have in mind?" She asked, looking at the vast expanse of snow dunes and mountains.  The place was a wasteland.  She hated Fichina.  It looked like a blizzard anyhow, but then again, what else was new.  

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"Hello Gn. Hacket." Zephir replied taking his hand out of his khaki suit pocket to meet his. He then used that hand to push back his dark tinted glasses, hoping no one would see his eyes. "Now, allow me to purchase you a drink." He turned to the military's little set up bar. "Where I come from, this is the first step in getting things done."

 

(Where do you think George Lucas got the name from anyways? ;) )

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   Ansam walks around the lounge filled with what he came to realize were his fellow applicants. He stood there puffing on his cigar and reached for his flask which he soon discovered it was missing. Putting two and two together he realized where he left it.

 

   "Dammit," he thought, "I'm not going back out there. Oh well, gotta make due."

 

   He just then saw a suit and tinted glasses pass by him, said his name was Zephir. Ansam had a talent for overhearing conversations and learned who he was talking to was this Hackett, the one who had drummed up this Guns for Hire jazz.

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..::Hackett to Ashlin::..

 

The two walked into what looked like an interrogation room where he took a seat across from another chair. He put his feet up on the table and relaxed as he retrieved his tablet and started flipping through. "Skilled sniper. Resistant to hot and apparently cold weather. Impressive resume. What's your longest kill?" he asked.

 

 

..::Hackett to Star::..

 

He smiled as he pulled out his tablet, retrieving her files and looking through them. "Technical expert... Remind me, what kind of tech do you deal with?" He asked. "And whats this about a genetic enhancement? Were you treated badly?" he asked giving her a genuinely concerned look.

 

..::Hackett to Ansam::..

 

"You know, that plan would have worked if they were loading them in the right bay." Said a voice from behind. The fox grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face him. "Those are the ships thrusters, Mr. Sonderdust, but admire your tenacity." He let go of his shoulder and took a step back. "Im Ryan Hackett, commander of the Executor and your employer. If you'll follow me, we can get started." He said. He started walking toward a door nearby that lead into a hallway with different rooms.

 

 

..::Hackett to Ian::..

 

"Your reputation with a minigun precedes you, Mr. Simson. I think an examination would be a doubt of your skills." He walked him to what looked like an interrogation room with two chairs and a table. "I apologize for the low accommodations. The CDF wasn't able to get me a proper meeting room." He said. He sat in a chair and put his feet up on the table. "Please, take a seat. Im actually glad you have a suit. You'd be useful in mob dealings in the future."

 

 

..::Hackett to Lennox::..

 

His expression turned from a fake smile to disapproval. "I know your papers were forged, Mr. Satsura. It's painfully obvious when a hair dyed jaguar comes to me trying to pass as a terrier, but you were able to get through the guards without trouble. That I can admire. We'll work on your forgery skills later, but for now, please follow me." he said passing him and walking to an obscure door that lead to a hallway.

 

 

..::Hackett to Elektra::..

 

"I've got a room in the outpost nearby. Follow me." he said. He turned toward the nearest building and walked towards it. 

When they had arrived, he walked her into what appeared to be an interrogation room with two chairs and a table. He sat and, and like for the others, crossed his legs and propped them on the corner of the table. "Take a seat, Ma'am." he said, pulling up her file.

 

 

..::Hackett to Zephir::..

 

"I'll pass. There's much better spirits on the Executor." He said. "If you dont mind, I'd rather get straight down to business," he said sitting on a barstool. He pulled out his tablet and pulled up his file. "Now, do you have your doctorate?" he asked first.

 

(to everyone reading, please wait for me to reply. I'm trying to respond to each at the same time so we can get going.)

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   "Alright," replied Ansam through his cigar, hands in his pockets, grinning his ass off as he followed Hackett.

 

   "I can't believe I'm enjoying this already." he thought.

 

 

 

 

    They arrived to an interrogation room.

 

    "Whoa, this place has seen better days. No offense, I'm sure you guys put funding elsewhere. I can't count how many times that I've been in a room like this, almost like coming home. Before you check my file or whatever, theres something you outta know..."

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Outposts.  Great.  Elektra followed behind Hackett, trying not to dwell too much on her surroundings.  When they arrived, she sat down, and removed her helmet, revealing her face.  She was fair, with a relatively angular face, but it was her purple markings that were most distinct.  She tipped back in her chair, looking around at the bare room they were sitting in.  The bleak walls, the one way mirror, it was all sinister looking, something that could make anyone uncomfortable.  She said not a word, preferring to wait until the questions came before speaking.  Things tended to work best that way.

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Yup, he knew who he wanted. No need for the gaelic accent anymore

 

"I didn't want to masquerade as a dog, but as the guy. You wouldn't be able to tell a thing if you didn't kno' him prior; this business is not a face to face one yanno'. By the way, you really wanted him to join? He couldn't even handl' a bottle to the head."

He turned his failed ruse as his presentation card. The fox seemed impressed with him as they walked through the hallway to the room.

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(Ansam to Ryan)

 

 

 

 

   "...I've had run-ins with unsavory types before. I'm a smuggler by trade so I attract all matter of scum. One in particular being Colonel Raddel, heard of him? Second in command of task force Delta, 3rd Blue Banner Fleet, Cornerian Defense Force. I was approached by either him or one of his cronies asking me to take on a specific cargo discreetly to an undisclosed location that would be revealed on-route. Back then I didn't ask too many questions, it was a job and I was hurtin' for dough. But when I got a peek at what was in those containers, I couldn't do it. Ask me to ship anything, but not that. Never that."

 

   Ansam sat in his chair dragging deep on his cigar which burned red the embers. He stared off into space, his eyes were glazed with hatred. He closed his eyes and calmed himself before speaking yet again.

 

   "Sorry, I'm sure you have some questions to ask me."

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Zephir just nodded. Taking a shot of strong scotch. "You ask me a question you should already know." Taking a puff from his pipe. He blew out a ring of smoke. Watching the ring fold onto itself and fading into the air. He motioned for another glass.

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