"Enzo," Luca started, not really getting caught in the details of why he was hanging off the ceiling, "Long story short, I've been given an anonymous tip that your ship has been, well, found."
He then made a motion to John to head to Enzo's room and help him out before he hurt himself.
Meanwhile, down in the hotel's lobby, two ID-SOLs flanked a much smaller man, whose eyes darted around nervously. He was fidgeting, looking over his shoulder and overall, a nervous wreck.
"I thought there were THREE of you," The little man started backchatting to his two bodyguards, who shrugged in reply, "I needed someone to watch my back!"
"We are watching your back, sir," One of them stated, "I assure you."
-
Ivan's connection to the local wireless network was fuzzy at best, lag time on his HUD's identification matrix was beginning to drive him mad. However it was a necessity, one that was about to pay off.
Pulling his weapon off the back seat of the rental vehicle he concealed it rather loosely under a throw away black coat, two grenades and his .45 joined it on his person. Slamming the door and muttering something about cheap Origin trash be made his way toward the hotel's lobby.
-
The nervous man sat down with a glass of brandy, his hands continuously trembled as he tried to keep the glass steady, "I know some thing's wrong," He stammered, "I can feel it."
One of the ID-SOL guards looked at him and shook his head, looking to his partner and tapping the side of his head.
"Listen," One of them started, "If you don't shut up, you'll have much more to worry about,"
The other sat down next to him with a revolver in his lap, pointed to the nervous man's groin, "We demand a raise if we're gonna put up with your babble."
-
Meanwhile, up above, John had knocked on Mr. Smith's door, "Hey, Smith," He asked, "Got a moment?"
-
The three men were suddenly suprised by the high pitched scream of a woman behind the main desk and much to their dread the metallic sound of an automatic weapon being cycled. Before either ID-SOL could react a 12 gauge flechette load caught the one on the left's upper body, practically nailing him to the wall. The shooter shouted a few curses as the action locked on a defective round, giving the surviving two the opportunity to react.
-
The ID-SOL who was pinned to the wall still had his right side available to him, and reached for his revolver, flicking the handle back with his thumb and pointing it at the gunman - although, his aim was slightly impaired since he couldn't put two hands on his gun.
The ID-SOL who was sitting down had accidentally pulled the trigger in surprise, demonstrating a heinous lack of regard for gun safety.
The nervous man had a whole lot more to worry about now, and now that he had some serious wounds, chances are someone could finish him off in a hurry.
The clerk at the desk, meanwhile, was hiding behind her desk and mashing the security button to get OriSec down here.
-
John, upon hearing gunfire downstairs started hammering on the door harder, "SMITH!" He yelled, "Don't make me come in there!"
Meanwhile, further upstairs, Luca had also blinked in surprise, wondering what the hell was going on down there. He decided, for once, that he wouldn't investigate.
"Orisec's on it's way. It's none of my business right now." Smith replied from inside his room. The Nepleslian man finished up another short call from his siblings, they were prodding him frequently now, and put on the rest of his Origin Suit before opening the door. "Unless Mr. Pavone says it's his business, sir."
"John," Luca's voice was in John's communicator, "What the hell was that?"
"It's his business now," John said, doing his investigation for him.
The first revolver round made him take cover on reflex, stepping behind a pillar. The second one followed by his mark's high pitched screaming brought a slight smirk to his face as he tore defective magazine from the shotgun. Glancing around his temporary sanctuary he located the mark and two other threats. Leaning back he reloaded his weapon, thirty rounds of .00 lead shot. Pulling the charging handle he shouted at the two ID-SOLs, "Hey shit birds! He worth your life?"
-
Daxle was still shaking his head and muttering something about jetpacks when he rounded the corner of his hallway and heard weapons fire. He took a moment to listen intently, and figured it was either coming from really high up or really far down. In any case, it was exactly the opposite direction of whichever way he wanted to go. Daxle trudged on further down his level and found a side stairwell door near the elevators. Silently praying, he opened it and began his descent.
He reached the lobby level and opened the door, inwardly crying as he saw that the battle was, indeed, on this floor. He could see the main doors, not too far from his location, and he was just a little bit behind the service counter. Taking great pains not to be seen, he began edging around the main area of the lobby towards the door.
-
The two ID-SOL took a glance at each other, then at the nervous man, who was now rolling on the floor clutching what was left of his family jewels, "Nah," They replied in unison.
The one who was sitting down with the smoking gun in his hand said, "Just spare us, alright? We'll just forget this guy happened."
Meanwhile, cars could be heard pulling up in front of the Hotel, with the sounds of orders being barked for people to get into position. Arrest first, ask questions next, then shoot later was their main plan.
-
Emerging from the pillar he carefully approached the two ID-SOLs, his shotgun trained and ready. "Drop your weapons, walk out" said Ivan, his smart ass tone replaced with a cold growl.
-
The two ID-SOL shrugged, seeing that they'd done nothing wrong (except for one of them grossly disregarding gun safety) and put their guns down, then stepped to the side. The nervous man on the floor took a look at Ivan, and then tried to crawl away from him towards the front desk.
Behind the front desk, the lady noticed Daxle and urged him to come closer, noticing the bag with the red cross on it, "Listen," she asked quietly, "This might be a bit of an ask, but can you do damage control for any of these guys afterwards?"
John had come strolling in and looked around at the carnage. He took a look at the two ID-SOLs, one of whom resembled a pincushion, a man on the ground, and a threatening looking Nepleslian with a shotgun in hand.
"So, what else is new?" John asked, clearly nonplussed by the situation at hand.
The two ID-SOLs looked at John incredulously, "What?" one of them asked.
-
Daxle stopped, for the second time that day, midstep. He couldn't believe his luck; he had failed to sneak out, and he failed badly. He turned to the receptionist with a nervous glance and hustled back to over the reception desk and joined her behind it.
"Damage control? Oh, you mean on....what, those body guard types?" he asked very quietly, looking over the counter quickly to see some guy with a big weapon standing over a smaller guy who was bleeding profusely. He also noticed John seemed to just be standing there. ~Odd~ he thought
-
Ivan glanced at the newcomer, throwing a smirk before leaning down and hefting one of the ID-SOL's revolvers in his prosthetic hand. He then casually walked over to the heavily bleeding mark who was now moving frantically trying to pull himself away from the tall Nepleslian. His smirk gradually growing into a feral grin Ivan spoke, "You are aware why I'm paying you this visit?" he said while cocking the oversized handgun.
-
The nervous man was very close to bleeding dry if his wound didn't get attending to, and he was barely able to squeeze these words out of his mouth, "Trafficking... dealing... ugh, uhm... people and animals..." He was starting to sound very faint, and Ivan was told to bring this guy alive if he wanted a little extra pay.
The receptionist leaned around the corner and pointed quickly towards the nervous and deathly pale man, "Yes, and him."
-
Hearing the receptionist Ivan levelled his shotgun toward the pair and growled, "This isn't any of your business, suggest you just stand and watch for now, now you pitiful piece of shit where were we? Ah yes!" he emptied the cylinder into the nervous man's body. Four roars ending with the wet sucking sounds of a pulverised lung trying to function.
Flipping the cylinder open Ivan ejected the spent casings and glanced back toward the weapon's owner, "Consider this a tribute for your life now pick up your friend and get the hell out of here." said Ivan in a flat tone.
-
Shortly after more gunshots were heard, a team of at least ten or twelve power-armour assisted men and women armed with Fatboys had stormed in, and made ranks. They only had one word to say to the situation:
"FREEZE!"
John remained nonplussed as he walked forward, looked down at the very dead nervous man, and looked up at Ivan, "So, uh, you have an alibi for this, don't you?" He sounded somewhat concerned, "You'd better hope his misdeeds outweigh yours."
The receptionist stood up and wiped the sweat from her brow with a sigh of relief. The OriSec team remained
A feral grin returned to the Nepleslian's face, he pocketed the hand cannon and reacted to a small cord sticking from the coat. A sharp tug was rewarded with half a dozen metallic pings as several armed grenades fell to the floor around him. "One Mississippi..." he grabbed John by the front of his shirt and practically jumped toward an open elevator.
-
The OriSec team didn't want a building to be blown up in the process of rounding up one man, and kept their distance. Hostage situations were always more tricky.
John had a hard time keeping a straight face, but he was keeping his cool. He'd experienced worse. He whispered in his captor's ear, "Listen, I can get you out of this. Ever heard the name 'Luca Pavone'?"
Letting go of John, Ivan smashed the panel, activating the lift. "Can't say that I have" he said in a strangely calm voice. The explosions followed just as the elevator hit the second floor.
"Did you ever hear about the virus that almost bombed Nepleslia and Yamatai, got stopped by a rag tag group of misfits?" He asked. Ivan would be able to recall hearing about it offhandedly, "Or about Drift's NMX incursion getting held back?" Ivan would've heard reports from his contacts in Drift, "Or just recently?"
"Rumours and bullshit mostly, didn't effect me to much so I didn't really pay attention, you see how many Sec guys they have in the street?" he asked pulling a small device from a pocket.
John shrugged, "Dunno, twelve?" He wasn't really paying attention to them, "Try not to kill 'em if ya can."
"We'll see." he pressed the button and the building was rocked by a larger blast, "Ten kilograms, plastique" he said smirking again.
OriSec turned around to watch the car outside the building explode and fly a few metres into the air. The team was very much surprised by this and decided to leave the hotel before things went from bad to worse. The ensuing scene would be a team of OriSec outrunning an explosion.
-
Daxle watched completely baffled as the huge man took John and made for the elevator. He walked around the counter and, with a sigh of resignment, began to head over to the ID-SOL that was pinned to the wall. Yet fate, it would seem, had cruel jokes up it's sleeve for the young man, because once again, yes again, he stopped midstep.
It was nearly impossible to notice the team of heavily armed OriSec members rushing out of the building, and indeed nigh impossible to notice that pretty hot receptionist fleeing for her life with them. He looked down into the middle of the lobby, and saw the many grenades strewn about, very clearly active.
His reaction was immediate; he took one back pedal and dived sideways into and through the stairwell door that he had previously just come through, and just in the last moment as the explosion tore apart the lobby and everything in it.
-
John frowned a little as the elevator hit the floor that Luca was residing on, "Listen, I'll do the introductions. Be warned, though," John leaned in, "He's had a rough night with the CEO of Origin, he's having trouble walking - Oh, and he has a strong sense of justice," He let the last statement form whatever opinion it could in Ivan's head.
"Whatever, lead the way I get the feeling cans downstairs will be tied up for a while," said Ivan, dusting himself off.
"I don't mean that sort of justice," John corrected himself, he then sighed before speaking again, "Ever watch those Sentai shows when you were a kid? He's kind of like the Red guy."
"Sounds like screwball" replied Ivan, checking his weapon and chambering another round, "We there yet?"
"Yes, but he's an effective screwball, which is the scary part," John replied as he reached the door and gave it a knock, "I'm back, open up. Got someone interesting here."
-
There wasn't much of a wall left, or anything really. Whatever grenades were dropped, they sure did have a kick. Daxle heaved and pushed what was the door off of him and slowly stood up. A sharp pain shot through him, but he brushed that off; he knew it was just the remnants of injuries he had taken yesterday.
With a sigh, he put his right hand inside the left side of his jacket, and just gripped the handle of his modified pistol. He could barely use it, but he could use it...he just hoped he didn't have to use it. Still, there was something reassuring about having a hidden 10 mm pistol with extended magazine and reflex sighting on hand just in case. He picked his way out of the stairwell and looked to see if he could get out of the building.
-
"Door's unlocked," Luca could be heard from the other side of the hotel door. The sounds of a video game could be heard as John pushed the door open and found Luca sitting against the bed with an ice pack on his groin, a game pad in his hand, and an online shooter game on the screen, "Talk to me," He said, paying equal attention to two things at once.
"Told you," John reaffirmed to Ivan, wondering how his captain managed to put a games console in the hotel.
"And you would be the screwball eh?" said Ivan, addressing Luca.
"Accept no substitutes!" Luca chuckled, fragging another player on Dawn Station with a boot to the face in game, causing Luca to holler in response, "So, looking for a job?
"Depends" said Ivan "What's the pay?"
"Usually 20K a job, plus spoils of - damn," Luca had been knifed in the back in game, "Spoils of war, and maybe some extra bits."
-
Smith wasn't in a happy mood. His little siblings were ordering to do certain things. John had bugged him in the middle of a call to his family. He had just went downstairs after said crewmember, and watched a mess of grenades pile onto the floor just as said crewmember was taken hostage. He had to quickly ascend in another elevator, just as one blast, followed by another shook him.
And whoever this person was, has made a mess of Origin property. Mr. Smith was not a happy man.
So when he used his HUD to follow the two men up to Mr. Pavone's room, the very first thing he did when he saw the back of the unnamed man, was throw two monomolecular knives right into his calves before stomping him into the ground face first. His 17mm was aimed at the head.
"You owe us at least 5k worth in damages. At the least." he coldly spoke. "And you made my day start off poorly."
"Smith," Luca said, while still looking at the screen, having his right hand on the controller, and his left hand on his HHG, pointed in Smith and Ivan's general direction, "Good to see you're awake, try not to kill him. I think he's useful."
A click caught everyone's attention, Ivan's .45 had found itself angled toward Smith's groin. "Hello to you too, now if you don't mind this is rather awkward."
It was at this moment that Smith decided he absolutely hated the man; whoever this person was, was the biggest idiot he had ever met. The Origin Employee leaned in so that the .45 pushed against his valuables, at the same time, pressing the hard, cold ceramic barrel even harder into the back of this insolent man's head. "I can always grow an even bigger pair, but I'd like to see you grow a new head after having 17mm's worth of high explosive jammed in that empty noggin."
Mr. Smith loosened his tie with his free hand. "Mr. Pavone just gave you a free ticket off, and you just pulled this. I am not pleased."
Luca scratched his chin by using the controller, and used his chin to get his character into position to snipe someone and succeed, nailing someone who lived in Nepleslia Prime between the eyes.
"I have an idea," He said, "Smith? You listening?" He then realised that he and Ivan hadn't been properly introduced, "And your name is?"
"Ivan, Ivan Kummel," retorted the cyborg as a whirring sound began filling the air.
"Alrighty Ivan," He said as he put his revolver down, freeing up his spare hand, "Here's my plan," He shuffled over a little, "Now, how about you do a job for us, and a portion of your cut goes towards getting this place fixed. And then it's business as usual. Smith gets his money, you still get paid a good sum amongst other things, and you get to kill some real bad pieces of work. All I ask is that you try not to kill us, and we'll return the favour."
The match in the shooting game had concluded with Luca on top of the leader board, "Try anything and I'll see if you can fly," He said dead calmly in response to the whirring.
Mr. Smith growled in annoyance. "Are you even sure he's worth your time Mr. Pavone? He's not very bright. He keeps digging himself deeper." Smith eased off the handcannon from the back of 'Ivan's' head, but reached back and plucked away one of the throwing knives out of a calf, far from gently to display his disagreement.
"Always wanted to fly, though I guess that can wait," said Ivan in a semi-annoyed tone.
"Mr. Pavone?" Smith asked.
Luca was listening, he sat up on the bed and took a look at everyone with a silly grin, "Yes?"
Mr. Smith stepped off of 'Ivan', before kicking the last throwing knife out of the man's calf. His 17mm however, was still aimed squarely at the man.
Retrieving his shotgun, Ivan resumed his stance, albiet keeping it semi-angled toward Smith. "So, what did you have in mind?" asked Ivan.
"Well," Luca started, taking a moment to blink, "I recently got a call from someone somewhere that a crewmember of mine's ship has been located in space somewhere two light years north of Nepleslia Prime," He thought for a moment, "Naturally, I don't think something's right about this at all, and I'm not expecting taking this ship back to be easy,"
He leaned back in thought, then leaned back up, "All I need is a good set of combat hands to help clear whatever's in there, while trying to keep this ship intact. And you, sir, seem to be very, very capable."
"Armaments?" A small gleam begun to show in his eyes.
Luca grinned, "Anything you can get your claws on. If we're facing NMX, we'll say 'allo to them with Plasma. I think all we gotta do is not destroy the ship, but clear out whatever's inside it, if anything."
"I be a little low on funds at the moment, hes a Origin pencil dick right?" asked Ivan jutting a thumb toward Smith.
"His name is Smith, and yes. He's my Origin liason," Luca replied calmly, "I'll buy you something if you need."
"If you believe theres even a chance of squidies then theres a list of items I'll need before I even think of airlocking on this Op," replied Ivan, switching to a more serious tone.
Luca took a quick glance at the list, and nodded, "Ah yes. I myself like using a Lorath Grenade launcher for NMX negotiations, and a shotgun loaded with plasma shells."
"I stil don't like this Mr. Pavone. He's sloppy in his work, reckless, and has no regard for his life. The last thing any of us need is for him to get in our way. Or for us to be in his bullheaded way." Matthew commented. 'Great. I have a Neko to watch out for, and now this Psychopathic Idiot? Mr. Smith thought. The day was getting better and better.
"Relax, I haven't even seen him fight yet," Luca said to Mr. Smith, "Once we see him vent some NMX foreheads, I'll have something to say."
"How about this boss, give me a time and a place for pickup and I'll show, as far as kit for the moment I'll just borrow a few creds from pencil dick" said Ivan, producing a wallet with his free hand. "I'll reemberse him after the Op.. maybe"
"His name is SMITH!" Luca yelled out, suddenly having his HHG in hand and levelled at Ivan, "Don't forget that - and give him back his wallet," He seemed to be making it explicitly clear that name calling was not how you got a job done, "All I ask for is mutual respect, got that?"
