The scarred man pulled on the still broken automatic door that led to the communications room that he had been visiting on occasion, and as he stepped in and closed the door, the chatty tech gave a wave as he looked up from his job. The scarred man carried his music player and his toolbox, one in each hand, as well as a duffel bag over his shoulders as he walked towards the seated tech. The man looked up and gave a smile "Hey man, here to keep me compa--"
The man's voice was cut off by the sudden impact of the toolbox against his jaw, as the scarred man swung it as hard as his arm could manage, connecting solidly and knocking the man clean out of his seat, a few bits of broken teeth landing on the floor next to him as he slumped against the nearby wall. A soft whimpering groan escaped the techs lips as he fell unconscious, but the scarred man took no chance, dropping the toolbox on the mans head with a sickening crunch.
After insuring the man wouldn't be getting up soon, he knelt down beside him, and moved the toolbox, flipping it upside down. He ran his hand along the blood smeared metal, and flipped the catch hidden under the lip, sliding the top of the hidden compartment off the bottom of the box. Inside, was two sets of explosives, and a small ''little killer'' laser pistol. Withdrawing all three, he set them aside, then stood up, stripping the coveralls quickly, and taking his black bodysuit from his bag, leaving the bloody coveralls atop the techs form. After pocketing the explosives and the pistol, he withdrew the music file-disc from his player, and searched for the location the tech had told him where one could insert a pre-recorded message for play. Once he slid the disc in, he walked over to the door. On the doorframe, just at head level, he set the wad of plastic explosives to adhere to one side of the frame, and set the trip wire across the frame, so anyone of at least five feet in height walking through the door would set off the explosives. After activating the explosives, he made his way back to the PA system.
With a flip of a switch, the PA system was set to maximum volume, and began to play the heavy Kodian screeching and growling, at volumes definitely not healthy for most ears. The scarred man wasted no time in making his way back to the door, leaving the music box, but grabbing his duffel. He slid the door open and ducked the wire, closing the door snuggly. Someone would be along shortly to find out what the hell was wrong with the techs choice in music, so he wasted no time at the door, making his way quickly to the lift shaft. He palmed the gun inside his bodysuits pocket, eyes open for anyone that would stop him, and smacked the switch for the hanger floor.
The lift arrived moments later, thankfully empty, and he stepped inside. Smacking the close switch, he pulled the explosives out of his pocket, and began to set it on a timer, three minutes. Once he arrived at the proper floor, he flipped the switch, and set the explosive on the floor, trotting his way out of the shaft and onto the hangar floor, eyes scanning for the appropriate ship. The mechanics were looking around in confusion at the rather loud noise, hands covering their ears. They could only flinch and duck as the loud rumble of the explosion above them from the communication room shook the ceiling of the hangar. Once his eyes found the Wanderer, the scarred man practically ran across the floor, footing staying sure as the second explosion rang out, a parts from the lift and a brush of flame escaping the shaft. His pistol was now drawn as he made his way up the hatch of the ship.
The unfortunate tech who was peering out the door to see what was going on, ears plugged, got caught with a full body slam as he looked down in surprise at the charging man, and was slammed against the far wall of the corridor. The snap of the laser pistol was covered by the still blaring music, and so was the usually messy sound of someone's flesh being flash boiled by said laser pistol, and the scarred man rushed on, the itch's skull now resembling popcorn. The ships metal began to hum, someone apparently deciding to get out of the now rather dangerous space station. This only marred the mans face with a grin, a tech rushing down the corridor to get off the leaving ship catching the duffel bag in the face, and as he stumbled back, a laser shot in the stomach, causing him to crumple with a drowned out cry of anguish. That accounted for the two techs that had been assigned to repair the ship...that just left whatever crew was fixing the ship. The sound of the music was sealed off as the hatch closed, and the ships rumble increased as the transport craft made its way out of the hangar. The scarred mans form ran quickly through the corridors of the ship, and up to the cockpit, door left open. Two men in spacers jumpsuits sat at the controls, one just beginning to turn as he heard the sounds of approaching boots. The crack of the shot was quite audible this time, though the man did not more than give a wheeze as his throat was cauterized. The scarred mans sight tracked over and neatly shot the final man in the chest twice in quick succession, the scent of burnt flesh now filling the cockpit, as well as smoke from the second mans burning jumpsuit.
Unable to pocket the gun with the warm barrel, he slapped it onto the console, and shoved both dying men out of their seats, kicking the muted one in the head with a heavy boot as he tried to grasp at him. A quick glance over the console to orient himself, and the scarred man continued the vessels path away from the station, and began to try and plot a quick course with the hyperdrive system....he didn't want to be anywhere near the station when the new Neplesians forces decided the bombing was a threat and pulled everyone back in...His eyes watched the sensor screen, gaining a headache as he tried to compile all the information at the same time that he plotted a course.\r\n\r\nA few tense minutes...then hours.. passed as he waited for the ship to get far enough from the gravity well the station had been located in...though the sensors didn't give any indication of the other ships heading back quite yet, in fact he was still in a group heading away. Once he was far enough out to use the course he had plotted, he pulled the switch, and sighed in relief as the systems indicated that everything was working properly. He began to remove his disguise, pulling the pads on his face off that give him the appearance of being scarred, revealing the rather plain face underneath. Jelan Durgon gave himself a few minutes to gloat...he had made it, out from under his family, and the proud new ''owner'' of his own starship....now, to clean up the corpses and look at his loot.
He stuffed the two techs and the previous owners of the ship, at least that's who he assumed the guys in the spacers suits were, he didn't bother to check the id before raiding them for whatever solid cash they had, in the food freezer, having to fold the bodies up a bit to fit, and stripping them of their garb. Jelan then made his way down to the hangar...supposedly this thing came with some free power armor, hopefully they kept a few around, it would make for good barter.
Once he stepped into the hangar of the transport ship, Jelan's face broke out in a grin....he saw six suits of Demon Human power armor in the hold...some a bit scarred up from combat of some sort, but mostly intact. Over to the side, he saw a few crates that looked like they were full of parts, one with an entire arm sticking out, maybe they had scrapped the others to fix up the rest. He would make a more complete examination when he got to dock.
Afterwards, he made his way to the cargo hold, hoping that they hadn't delivered anything quite yet. To his glee, there was some crates left...and they appeared to have been delivering tools and spare parts...more stuff for barter, he only hoped he could find someone that was needy.
Jelan found himself back in the cockpit after his examination of his loot, booted feet up on the console in a pose that would probably make the former owners a bit disturbed at how carelessly he treated their gear. He stared up at the ceiling, and mouthed the words over and over, getting used to them "Captain Jelan Durgon, Dreaded Pirate"
He was gonna like this.
The man's voice was cut off by the sudden impact of the toolbox against his jaw, as the scarred man swung it as hard as his arm could manage, connecting solidly and knocking the man clean out of his seat, a few bits of broken teeth landing on the floor next to him as he slumped against the nearby wall. A soft whimpering groan escaped the techs lips as he fell unconscious, but the scarred man took no chance, dropping the toolbox on the mans head with a sickening crunch.
After insuring the man wouldn't be getting up soon, he knelt down beside him, and moved the toolbox, flipping it upside down. He ran his hand along the blood smeared metal, and flipped the catch hidden under the lip, sliding the top of the hidden compartment off the bottom of the box. Inside, was two sets of explosives, and a small ''little killer'' laser pistol. Withdrawing all three, he set them aside, then stood up, stripping the coveralls quickly, and taking his black bodysuit from his bag, leaving the bloody coveralls atop the techs form. After pocketing the explosives and the pistol, he withdrew the music file-disc from his player, and searched for the location the tech had told him where one could insert a pre-recorded message for play. Once he slid the disc in, he walked over to the door. On the doorframe, just at head level, he set the wad of plastic explosives to adhere to one side of the frame, and set the trip wire across the frame, so anyone of at least five feet in height walking through the door would set off the explosives. After activating the explosives, he made his way back to the PA system.
With a flip of a switch, the PA system was set to maximum volume, and began to play the heavy Kodian screeching and growling, at volumes definitely not healthy for most ears. The scarred man wasted no time in making his way back to the door, leaving the music box, but grabbing his duffel. He slid the door open and ducked the wire, closing the door snuggly. Someone would be along shortly to find out what the hell was wrong with the techs choice in music, so he wasted no time at the door, making his way quickly to the lift shaft. He palmed the gun inside his bodysuits pocket, eyes open for anyone that would stop him, and smacked the switch for the hanger floor.
The lift arrived moments later, thankfully empty, and he stepped inside. Smacking the close switch, he pulled the explosives out of his pocket, and began to set it on a timer, three minutes. Once he arrived at the proper floor, he flipped the switch, and set the explosive on the floor, trotting his way out of the shaft and onto the hangar floor, eyes scanning for the appropriate ship. The mechanics were looking around in confusion at the rather loud noise, hands covering their ears. They could only flinch and duck as the loud rumble of the explosion above them from the communication room shook the ceiling of the hangar. Once his eyes found the Wanderer, the scarred man practically ran across the floor, footing staying sure as the second explosion rang out, a parts from the lift and a brush of flame escaping the shaft. His pistol was now drawn as he made his way up the hatch of the ship.
The unfortunate tech who was peering out the door to see what was going on, ears plugged, got caught with a full body slam as he looked down in surprise at the charging man, and was slammed against the far wall of the corridor. The snap of the laser pistol was covered by the still blaring music, and so was the usually messy sound of someone's flesh being flash boiled by said laser pistol, and the scarred man rushed on, the itch's skull now resembling popcorn. The ships metal began to hum, someone apparently deciding to get out of the now rather dangerous space station. This only marred the mans face with a grin, a tech rushing down the corridor to get off the leaving ship catching the duffel bag in the face, and as he stumbled back, a laser shot in the stomach, causing him to crumple with a drowned out cry of anguish. That accounted for the two techs that had been assigned to repair the ship...that just left whatever crew was fixing the ship. The sound of the music was sealed off as the hatch closed, and the ships rumble increased as the transport craft made its way out of the hangar. The scarred mans form ran quickly through the corridors of the ship, and up to the cockpit, door left open. Two men in spacers jumpsuits sat at the controls, one just beginning to turn as he heard the sounds of approaching boots. The crack of the shot was quite audible this time, though the man did not more than give a wheeze as his throat was cauterized. The scarred mans sight tracked over and neatly shot the final man in the chest twice in quick succession, the scent of burnt flesh now filling the cockpit, as well as smoke from the second mans burning jumpsuit.
Unable to pocket the gun with the warm barrel, he slapped it onto the console, and shoved both dying men out of their seats, kicking the muted one in the head with a heavy boot as he tried to grasp at him. A quick glance over the console to orient himself, and the scarred man continued the vessels path away from the station, and began to try and plot a quick course with the hyperdrive system....he didn't want to be anywhere near the station when the new Neplesians forces decided the bombing was a threat and pulled everyone back in...His eyes watched the sensor screen, gaining a headache as he tried to compile all the information at the same time that he plotted a course.\r\n\r\nA few tense minutes...then hours.. passed as he waited for the ship to get far enough from the gravity well the station had been located in...though the sensors didn't give any indication of the other ships heading back quite yet, in fact he was still in a group heading away. Once he was far enough out to use the course he had plotted, he pulled the switch, and sighed in relief as the systems indicated that everything was working properly. He began to remove his disguise, pulling the pads on his face off that give him the appearance of being scarred, revealing the rather plain face underneath. Jelan Durgon gave himself a few minutes to gloat...he had made it, out from under his family, and the proud new ''owner'' of his own starship....now, to clean up the corpses and look at his loot.
He stuffed the two techs and the previous owners of the ship, at least that's who he assumed the guys in the spacers suits were, he didn't bother to check the id before raiding them for whatever solid cash they had, in the food freezer, having to fold the bodies up a bit to fit, and stripping them of their garb. Jelan then made his way down to the hangar...supposedly this thing came with some free power armor, hopefully they kept a few around, it would make for good barter.
Once he stepped into the hangar of the transport ship, Jelan's face broke out in a grin....he saw six suits of Demon Human power armor in the hold...some a bit scarred up from combat of some sort, but mostly intact. Over to the side, he saw a few crates that looked like they were full of parts, one with an entire arm sticking out, maybe they had scrapped the others to fix up the rest. He would make a more complete examination when he got to dock.
Afterwards, he made his way to the cargo hold, hoping that they hadn't delivered anything quite yet. To his glee, there was some crates left...and they appeared to have been delivering tools and spare parts...more stuff for barter, he only hoped he could find someone that was needy.
Jelan found himself back in the cockpit after his examination of his loot, booted feet up on the console in a pose that would probably make the former owners a bit disturbed at how carelessly he treated their gear. He stared up at the ceiling, and mouthed the words over and over, getting used to them "Captain Jelan Durgon, Dreaded Pirate"
He was gonna like this.
