"Oh!!! My fraggin head!" moans Puk weakly, as he slowly pulls himself out of the dingy bed. "That was some run, I was almost brisket for the bar-b-que, on that one."
"About slagging time you lazy piece of drek woke up" snarls Ravage, but a hint of a sigh can be heard "You were out for a friggin day. It would have been just our luck if the snoopers crashed our party just when your vid was out of order."
"I love you too Ravage." Puk slowly walks over and pours a cup of steaming hot coffee and takes a deep pull. One would never have known it was hot by the way Puk downed the rich liquid. "Ah! Nothing like a little go juice to get the body pumping. Now lets see what Santa has got in his little black bag."
Puk quickly keys in the proper security passwords to logon to his personal deck. After a quick scan of the data that was retrieved on his Yak run he prints out the pertinent data and stores the other info under a future cash directory. In this modern world, information is the key to fame and fortune, and when Puk gets out of Bangkok he plans on keying on the fortune part at least. He realizes that the Yak decker will be searching for him now, but very few have had access to the data that he presently has stored, and of those few only one is alive. He decides not to tell Ravage about his extracurricular activities, since he wouldn't understand about the need for a decker to push himself. He would only talk about how it increases the danger of the present mission. Anyway what he didn't know wont hurt him, he hopes.
"So what ya got there chum?" asks Ravage, interrupting Puk's thoughts.
"Well I have all the info on this Helo pilot. Seems he was a war hero for the CAS government who got disillusioned in the cause when they sent him to the orient to do some drug smuggling to increase the defense budget. He decided to go into business for his own and went AWOL in his last year of service. Now he has a rep over here of the guy who, "gets you there, anywhere, anytime, all the time", He has contacts all over the orient and has dealt with all of the major organizations. I guess he is sort of a neutral smuggler that everyone seems to leave alone. I also found that he has built up a huge debt with the Yak and is being flagged to be "financially counseled". Which basically means he's going to get the drek kicked out of him. It seems that after his association with the Scorp Corp he has been laying low; and due to government involvement he has had little business. Couple that with a gambling addiction and Bingo! you have instant trouble. If we plan on using this rigger we better do it ASAP because that flag could be executed any day now.
"Oh, and I did a surface check on our pals in Denver and it seems that our new security corporation has raised some flags in the Yaks watch dog division. They have yet to get anywhere due to the high level of security measures that your boys have installed. That Drider must be some B.M.F. If he's responsible for their comp sys -- its giving the Yaks fits. Every time they do a surface search they get lost in a deep, dark forest. I could get to like this guy."
"On the physical side your guys seem to be pretty much self containing, they have tried to infiltrate the compound by subterfuge but found that most of their spies were "turned away" or have not been heard from since. Seems like your boys efficiency has set them up as an organization to be watched. I couldn't tell if the Yaks considered them enemies or future business partners, I think they are just testing them to see if they are wannabees -- so far they are passing with flying colors."
"Them's my chums," says Ravage "O.K. we need to do a full evac of this place. We will go to this umm..."
"John "Sky Dog" Walker", says Puk.
"O.K.. Well go pay Mr. Walker a visit and convince him we need to go to Japan." says Ravage with a crooked smile.
"Hey what happened to Denver?", questions Puk in a slightly angry voice.
"Yo ice out Puk. I said I'd take you to the states and I will. While you were out playing, I got a call from the Captain. He wants me to go to Japan and do a small service then from there he will have an evac set up."
"That's prime, as long as we go to the states. I'm sick and tired of this back water side of the world and I'm ready for the Denver scene. Now there's a place where a guy can get a rep." replies Puk with a dreamy eyed expression.
"All right then lets get moving out. I want this place clear in 5 min. and don't give me no drek. We're gonna pay a visit to Mr. Walker and get out of this hot zone. Its about time Ravage returned to the states and played some havoc on that scene. Hope my chums are ready cause Ravage is coming home!"
"How could they all be dead Harley?" asks Skitchy incredulously as he looks at the wall monitor showing the great ship apparently motionless in the water.
"A direct hit with a missile to their command module..." Harley replies. "It is a poor design left over from the days when ships were designed with the cab on top. In the 2050's a rigger should be placed in the most protected area, deep in the interior. Keeping that old design was their mistake."
"What about the rest of the crew!!" asks Skitchy.
"Generally unnecessary. A rigger controls all aspects of these large ships, including defense and driving. Only a few tech support crewmen are needed for onboard repairs. That saves the big corps money and limits the number of workers they have to monitor. Now stop asking so many questions, we're breaking the surface and this thing is a fragger to steer."
The bow of the sub breaks the surface and the pirates just stare at it in amazement. The ork commander on the nightrunner immediately climbs aboard his high-powered jetski and slides down the ramp into the water, charging the new foe.
"Gunnery, is something I have no problem handling however." says Harley. She mentally flips a switch and a portal opens on the deck allowing a large gun to emerge and lock into the ready position. The large rotating cannon begins firing high speed rounds immediately at the nightrunner with the depth charges. The high velocity bullets trace a line in the ocean towards the sleek boat, lifting small plumes of water with each impact. The line travels unerringly to the nightrunner and the bullets instantly shred the boat. Splinters of wood fly in the air, and before the boat can retreat it blows up in a fiery explosion. "KABOOM!"
"One down." Harley's voice says over the com system. The cannon then turns to face the second and third ships near the cargo vessel. She draws a bead on the closest and begins her inevitable raining of bullets. In moments the second boat is riddled with huge holes. Portions of the hull are chewed away by the gun controlled by Harley. The ship begins to take water and smoke, and the crewman, realizing it is too late for the ship comes out onto the deck, assault rifle firing. The foe is given no quarter by Harley, and is chewed up like the rest of his craft in seconds. The one remaining crewman, probably the driver, dives overboard and begins his swim towards the other craft. It continues to sink
"That makes two."
By this time, the pirates have recovered from their surprise of seeing a huge submarine suddenly appear behind the cargo vessel. They respond as a well trained group and immediately charge the submarine on their jetskis. The lead man, the ork, dodges the line of bullets hurtling past and when he is close to the sub his seat springs forward and launches him into the air and towards the sub. He lands with an apparent ease on the side of the craft . He runs to the back side of the great gun, places a plastic charge on the mounting and then jumps overboard in one fluid, seemingly well practiced action.
"Frag, where did he come from?" Harley, just now finishing with the destruction of the second boat quickly turns her weapon towards the ork and begins firing. However, the ork has swam deep under water and the protection serves him well. She notes this and turns the gun on the nearest mounted jetski skimming quickly towards her U-boat. It explodes as the bullets shred the high rev jet turbine. The rider's forward motion is continued and he slams, a crumpled mess into the side of the sub.
The plastic charge on the gun ignites. However, instead of exploding, it burns. The white light given off as part of the tremendous heat is enough to burn the retinas of any observers. Harley's rigger sensors darken as part of the automatic flare protection. Molten steel flows down the mounting of the weapon and the gun falls to the deck with a load thud.
"Drek, there goes the gun," Harley says emotionlessly. The sub, being very small and built to remain electronically hidden to the corporate sensors, has only the one weapon mounted on the top. Harley decides to save the torpedoes for another day, not that they would be much use defending against so many different individuals. Simultaneously, the rest of the pirate crew drive their jetskis up the side of the submarine, using the slanted stealth proofing like a ramp of sorts. They quickly dismount.
"We are being boarded, gentlemen, and we cannot submerge until repairs are made. You will have to defend our ship." Harley patches a camera view of the deck to the wall mounted monitor inside the cabin for her teammates to observe. It shows the deck climbing with the sea brigands and more clambering aboard each second. The pirates begin trying to open various hatches on the deck, too little avail, as Harley has them locked down.
"Good, we've been waiting!" Skitchy says with too much enthusiasm. "Pop the lid, and let's rock."
"Get ready, there is no time like the present... Just a little closer, fraggers."
"We need a shape charge 'ere, cap!
At this point, Skitchy, quite literally springs into action. Hydraulic jacks in his cyber-thighs instantly spring him upward, launching his body up the shaft. Mid-flight, an arm wielding an TMP SMG appears at the top of the hatch ready to fire blindly down into the sub. Skitchy extends his cybersaw and sweeps at the arm as he hurtles past. The man lets out a scream as his arm falls lifeless next to him. A crimson stream of blood spurts forth like a fountain from his arm, hacked just below the elbow. His face turns white in seconds as his life bleeds out, and he falls backwards into the ocean.
Skitchy lands on the deck, and immediately activates his foot mags, fixing himself to the steel underlying the external paneling. He has landed directly next to a foe. Skitchy jams the barrel of his fletchette pistol into the chest of the bandit and fires. The man's back explodes outwards as hundreds of tiny needles tear flesh through him. He collapses onto his back with a look of horror on his face as he sees his future bleed away from his chest. "Bummer." Skitchy adds with a sadistic smile as he then skates down the deck towards his next foe at the front of the U-boat.
By this time Sam has climbed the ladder to the top of the hatch and is greeted at the top by a pirate, pistol in hand. Sam quickly ducks his head as the weapon fires, nearly hitting him. He then instantly pops up again and grabs the man's wrist, and twists. He feels it pop and then sees the bone tear forth from the man's arm in a compound fracture. The man sees the bone and opens his mouth to scream, but his yelp is cut forth as Sam pulls him in tight and twists his head, "SNAP!" and the pirate pulls an exorcist. Sam lifts the body with his overdeveloped arm and throws it into the ocean.
Another pirate, a thin fellow, quickly closes the distance to Sunset Sam. Sam quickly climbs out of the hatch to get on level fighting ground. The pirate, now in close range, slashes a long fighting knife. Sam deflects the first blow and swings a fist at his gangly enemy. The wiry fellow dodges the blow and stabs downward at the retreating arm and sinks the weapon in deep. Sam grits his teeth at the pain, and grabs the long hair of the man and pulls him inward. The pirate responds by twisting the knife, but he is amazed when he sees the glint of metal deep within. "Titanium, punk!" Sam says as he slams the man's head into the deck and knocks him unconscious.
Meanwhile Skitchy continues his blood bath. The pirates careful not to shoot their comrades are quickly cut down. Skating down the front of the sub he weaves in and out of three pirates and rips his way through their bodies. His body's right side is literally covered in the blood that sprays with each swing of his horrible cybertool. As he reaches the third and begins to gut him, he aims the fletchette pistol in his left hand and fires at a fourth pirate farther down the sub. The man collapses screaming at the hundreds of tiny bleeding holes covering his entire body. "Wow, that's some needle spread you got there chummer! Hurt much?" Skitchy jeers.
A jetski suddenly shoots up the side of the sub some twenty feet from Sam and a pirate dismounts. He draws a long mono-filament saber and charges him. Sam, calmly pulls forth the large crossbow slung over his back, quickly puts a bolt on the already loaded weapon, and fires. "Kachung." Soon as it leaves the bow, the spring loaded rear portion of the bolt opens and widens into four large prongs. The bolt hits the man squarely in the chest, and sinks all the way to the prongs which catch hold. The momentum literally lifts the man and carries him 3 meters. Sam smiles the smile of a hunter chasing man-eaters.
The man at Sam's feet awakens with groan. Seeing the Knife near the great man's foot he quickly reaches for it. Sam sees the movement in his peripheral vision and drops to one knee and punches the man with all his might and mass. The man's nose explodes in a bloody mess and again he is unconscious.
However, unbeknownst to Sam, the enemy ork has surfaced and quietly climbed aboard. The ork takes aim with his Beretta 200ST. "Your weapon is not loaded." He fires. Sam, caught off guard by the ork, tries to dive out of the way. "POP-POP-POP" go the bullets past Sam. One hits the great man in the forehead. His head is knocked back in an explosion of blood and blonde hair. His great body collapses on the deck with a thump, hand still clenched around the huge crossbow. The ork stares at the motionless body and gulps a breath of air. Small slits on the back of his neck open up with an exhale through the surgically installed gills in this altered metahuman. A tattoo of a seal can be seen on his forearm.
One of the pirates near the ork quickly charges to the hatch. He pulls forth a grenade, and prepares to drop it down the hole. The sound of battle and a chainsaw can still be heard from the front of the boat.
"Wait, you fool, do you know what this sub could mean to our cause! We will take this vessel, not destroy it!"
Understanding, the grungy man puts away the grenade and pulls out a knife and light pistol and peers down the hole. Seeing it clear he slides down the ladder. It immediately opens into the bridge. A shut door marked in large red letters "Torpedo Room," and an open doorway leading back probably to the living quarters and cargo room are the only exits he sees. However, his eyes are drawn to the large rigger chair towards the front of the boat. With the back facing him, he decides to slowly approach the seat. Perhaps we can take the rigger hostage and force him to drive this vehicle, he thinks to himself. He extends his pistol and wheels the chair around to face him.
At this point Harley suddenly appears in the doorway to the living quarters, behind the pirate, stun gun in hand. "NOBODY'S GONNA TAKE ANY RIG OF MINE, FRAGGER!" She pulls the trigger and the dart fires forth trailing an electric conducting cord. Once it hits the juice pours into the thug. His body convulses and falls forward into the chair. It quickly expands to surround his body, encapsulating his face. Normally, it would be no problem to stand up and pull away, but Harley merely turns up the dial on her weapon and drops it to the floor. "Fry or Suffocate--your choice fragger" she says as she leaves the man wiggling in the chair, the vibrations of his body completely absorbed by the chair. She then grabs a Scorpion machine pistol stored in a box on the floor, checks the ammo in the clip and inserts it back into the weapon. She looks up at the portal that she opened when she blew the hatch. Seeing it can't be closed at this time, she sighs to herself. "Guess I blew that one..." she pauses. "Computer, route all command functions to the cargo area." She grabs an extra long line of rigging cable and then runs down the hallway toward the cargo area, gun in hand.
"Fragging muscle-heads, always think they can take down a professional." says the ork as he walks over to the great body of the fallen crossbowman he had shot in the head. He bends over the great form to see his handiwork, then he notices in horror that the scalp where he had shot the large man had been torn away revealing underneath it a steel skull!!
"Just wanted you in close!" screams Sam as he shoves the large crossbow into the metahuman's chest and pulls the trigger. A barbed bolt is shot out from the end of the stock of the weapon. A hidden projectile propelled by a small canister of compressed air hidden in the stock. The projectile launches the ork into the air as its hooks bite deeply into his chest near the clavicle. The ork does not let out a scream, but lands with a thud on the deck 2 meters away.
The massive form of Sunset Sam quickly stands up, towering over the prostrate form sitting below him. The ork looks up and sees this mountain of muscle standing above him. A large piece of steel shows through part of his face, like some sort of modern day terminator. . . That he might just be.
"Do you have any idea of the control it takes to pull someone in?" he stares down at his foe. "Waiting for the best shot -- a shot to kill, or merely maim if one chooses -- that is the mark of a professional, mudsucker!" He swings the great x-bow and hammers the bolt even deeper to the ork's body. This time the ork lets a yelp escape due to the incredible pain. "Dude, you'd be lucky to lift that arm again." The ork bends his wrist and tries to lift his weapon to fire, and Sam comes down on him with the butt of his weapon, knocking him unconscious. Two unconscious bodies now lie at his feet. Sam then holds up a hand to his face, blood trickles down his arm. "Frag, this is require some plastic surgery to get me back to my beautiful self."
"Go ahead, fire!" Skitchy says as he swings his cybersaw menacingly. "But make it 'count cause it's your last."
The final pirate on the bow of the ship stares slack jawed at his opponent and the carnage he has just witnessed. His friends were ripped to pieces by this quick wiry fellow on cyber skates. This foe seemed almost to dance around his opponents. True, he was quick, but there was something more than that; he seemed to enjoy the bloody dance.
No longer having use of his trusty submachine gun, the pirate's hand grips the pistol uncomfortably. The SMG hanging over his shoulder had been emptied of all clips while attacking the cargo ship and engaging the sub. This small hand held weapon, a Tifffani Self-Defender stolen from a former victim, was all he had left. He had fired three shots already. Two had hit his comrades and one had missed the chainsaw wielding sociopath completely. He only had one shot left. . .
"Go ahead, fire! Everyone over here is unarmed. . . get it? -- unarmed. . ." the skate punk says as he stands in a heap of bloody, severed limbs and torsos. He then reaches down and picks up a head lying nearby. "Hut one, hut two, hike!" Skitchy says and then starts skating at his bewildered foe. The powered smart wheels then kick in and he has a tremendous boost of speed. He dodges quickly left, then right, and gains momentum with each push off of his feet. "I'm coming through you!" he says, putting one hand out in front. "I'm at the 50, the 40, the. ."
The pirate's hand is quivering and he tries to draw a bead on the quickly moving figure. Sweat pours down his face and into his eyes, he shakes his head to clear it away. The liquid flicks away, but a tightening of his stomach from fear increases. He continues aiming, it is all he has left at this point, but the figure is weaving too fast, and he only has one shot!
"The 30, the 20, the. . ."
At this point the skater dodges directly in front of the pirate, the pirate pulls the trigger.
"POW!" goes the weapon.
Skitchy is prepared for this however. His legs spring, and the powerful hydraulics vault him into the air, flying above the path of the weapon. At the apex, Skitchy twists both legs together to the left, touching heels together in a small stunt and then spreads his legs wide, hurtling towards the buccaneer enemy. A small glint of sunlight can be seen reflecting off a nearly invisible thread connected now between his two ankles.
The pirate looks up to the sight of the blood coated maniac descending upon him. He holds his hands to block the collision, but the bulk of the figure passes overhead legs spread wide to either side at about chest level.
Skitchy lands behind the pirate, instantly activating his feet mags to prevent further forward motion, then turns them off and spins around to see his enemy. The enemy spins around as well, however only the top portion completes the rotation, as blood begins to burst forth from a seam at nipple line all around torso.
"It's half-time folks. Score: Scorpions six, Raiders zip!" Skitchy says as he pushes the top half of his enemy's torso off the lower part -- the body being neatly sliced in two by a mono-filament. Skitchy then does a little dance and spikes the head he had carried to victory.
A final set of boarders clamber aboard and begin firing their weapons. One near the rear of the boat lifts his small SMG and lets loose at Sam who has to dive away to avoid being hit. "RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT!" goes the weapon as it coughs forth lead. Two others assume positions near him and begin firing.
"THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!" Sam quickly lifts the knife wielder's unconscious body by the neck and jumps onto the main deck. He charges the man, using his prisoner as a human shield. The prisoner just then awakens. "NNNOOOOO!!," he screams as the other men unload their weapons into the massive man hurtling towards them. Bullets rip into the meat barrier, and Sam lifts the bloody shield and hurls him at the first gunner. The gunner is knocked backward down the back of the sub to the propellers. The screams are only heard for a moment as the man is sucked under by the force of the props; then there is only red water.
The other gunman, amazed at the sheer ferocity this berserker has just shown nevertheless lowers his weapon at the great man. "I am death," the pirate says. The great man just stares at him. The large doors to the cargo area then burst open, "You are dead!" Harley screams as she unloads her entire clip into the man, sending him flying into the water.
The ork then unexpectedly awakens. Bleary eyed he searches for his weapon. Seeing that he has little chance against these foes in his current state, the ork makes a run for the nearest jetski remaining on the deck. He avoids the weapon fire and pushes it overboard and into the ocean. He then quickly mounts up and revs the engine.
Down the deck, Sam dives towards another man as the enemy's clip runs out. He tackles the man, grabs him by the throat and pounds him once in the face and then sweeps him up by the legs. Spinning round, he throws this final man overboard as well. The man is thrown directly into the path of the oncoming ork. The ork, only concerned with his own survival at this point, opens the throttle all the way. The man screams as his arm is sucked into the uptake channel of the jetski and shredded. Sounds of bone meeting steel are heard and the jetski screams in protest. The ork almost
loses balance but kicks the man away from his vehicle and speeds away.
"I wondered when you would show up." Sam says to Harley.
---
"Someone has to take care of you." Harley replies. At this point the ork speeds towards the third boat at top speed. Harley then points to the escaping metahuman, "Oops, missed one!"
The large mountain of muscle turns to look towards the other boat and sees the ork speedily drive his jetski up the rails mounted on its side. The ork quickly dismounts, picks up his rocket launcher, points it at the conning tower of the submarine, and fires.
Nothing happens.
"Your weapon is not loaded." answers Sam in a loud jeer. The ork, suddenly aware of this fact turns and looks maniacally around the deck for further ammo. Sam pulls forward the massive crossbow still slung on his shoulder from under his arm. The ork seeing the winch on the end of the bow smiles, knowing he has time to reload his weapon first. "I know what you are thinking chummer. It's not gonna happen." Sam grabs the tight cable bowstring in one gloved hand and gives a mighty pull. It locks and latches into place. He then pulls a bolt off the side of the bow and quickly puts it in place on the rack. Lifting the weapon up, he looks through the scope's eyepiece and sees the ork scrambling towards a rocket mounted in a box leaning against the cabin of the nightrunner. Sam hen clicks on his undermounted laser.
The ork dives for the missile hoping to jam it in the launcher before he is hit with the bow again. He lands a meter away from the shell. Instead of feeling the blow of another bolt in his flesh, a signature of a red dot appears on the explosive shell. He turns his head to look back at that dreaded enemy who has so quickly destroyed all his plans. "NNNOOOO!"
"Later." Sam pulls the trigger.
"KAABOOOM!!" the ship erupts in a fireball and shrapnel. A small mushroom of black smoke billows forth.
"I guess that's it." Harley says rather matter of factly.
Just then Skitchy comes skating over to their position, "Wow, killer shootin chummer!" he pauses, "Seal huh? Those guys blow."
"All right Skitchy, there's nothing else I can help you with here, I'm going aboard the cargo ship for a look see." Sam says.
"Gotcha, I'll have this welded up in no time." Skitchy says as he examines the fracture in the stabilization tank on the port side of the sub.
The massive form of Sam then climbs aboard one of the jetskis and speeds off.
"Hey Skitch, we still got that 4th blip on the screen. However, it doesn't look like it was a nightrunner," Harley screams from below. "Something a little larger and heavier, I should think."
"Drek, I forgot about that one. I just sent off the big guy. Can we handle it?"
"Look chummer, I'm not gonna waste a torpedo on some little junker," she responds. "Frag it, I'll send over a drone and finish off whomever is over there myself." A moment later the cargo doors in the back open and a rotodrone flies out and toward the horizon.
Sam climbs one of the ropes connected to a grappling hook fired there by the boarders. He pulls himself onto the huge deck and sees the tremendous damage wrought by the rocket launcher. There are charred remains of a body inside the remote turret that was destroyed. Further, there are scores of other bodies fragged up by some small blast in the same basic area. In addition, the deck is riddled with bodies, gunned down by the many pop-up turrets mounted around the deck. Several of these are now clicking endlessly, devoid of ammo.
Suddenly Sam hears a groan from inside a tool box near his position. He runs over to it and kicks it open with his bare foot. Within he finds the bloodied form of a young seamen. He lifts him out easily. Sam then says over his throat com,
"Harley, I found a survivor up here. Lots of blood loss, but no vitals hit. I think I can save him." He pulls out a tranq-patch and applies it over the young man's heart. He then wraps him in bandages, and repairs what damage he can. In a moment the young eyes open, and look at him as if daring the man to kill him.
"Don't worry chummer, I'm on your side." Sam says.
"My brother? In the gun turret?" he mumbles weakly.
"He didn't make it kid, I'm sorry. But we wacked the guy who did it." Sam says grimly. "Now just rest." Sam then runs to the cabin of the ship to look for other survivors only to find it demolished. Finding none, he then proceeds to look downstairs within the ship.
"Harley, I fixed the seal. Try filling it with air." Skitchy says peering down into the cabin of the sub. Moments later, Harley responds.
"We have hull integrity where we need it most. We can submerge again."
"All right, it should be now be a simple matter to reattach the hatch you blew open."
"Wiz, get on it." she then switches to a different frequency, "Hey Sam what's up on your end?"
"Minimal crew quarters, only one survivor. I'm gonna start transmitting from the cam you gave me. . . There, are you seeing anything?"
Harley then issues a mental command to begin receiving the data. Suddenly a new viewpoint opens up in her minds eye. A small camera transmitting its feed directly to her rigged brain from within the great cargo ship. Oddly enough she also detects another camera view pointed directly at her position from within the cabin. Quickly she flips to her internal trid cameras mounted in the room, and sees a small pen camera lying across the room pointing at her. 'SKITCHY!' she thinks to herself, 'I'll get that rat!' She then smiles.
"All right chummer, what are we seeing here?" she questions.
Sam pans around the room so Harley can get a better view. He is in a small room leading to the cargo area. A large universal precautions sign for radioactivity hangs on the door. "Warning, Radioactive" is stenciled above and below. The room also has several white rubber suits hanging from hooks mounted on a nearby wall.
Sam then picks up a black box with a LED readout at the top above a small speaker. He flips a switch on and immediately the familiar scratchy ticking sound of a Geiger counter is heard.
"Wow! this place is hot! I'm outta here!"
"Copy that." Harley replies. "By the way, I iced two more scumbags on that forth boat a ways off with a sniper drone, were in the clear."
Sam then runs back up on deck and checks on his patient.
"All right, I got the hatch sealed, now don't do that again. I'm gonna take a leak." Skitch then skates off to the head. Dropping his fly and pulling out his business, he suddenly recognizes his micro-camera sitting on the countertop...
"Hmm, I am not impressed Skitchy," comes the familiar voice of Harley over the cabin speakers. "I think you better invest in some cyber implants..."
Skitchy screams.
"Looks like you are gonna make it chummer." Sam says to the young seaman.
"I owe you my thanks. What about the pirates?" Roo asks.
"They all died hard. . ." Sam responds. The sailor then smiles. "Their wreckage is out there." Sam then points to the smoking remains of the several ships scattered in the ocean.
"Skitchy, I'm reading four bogies flying in fast, do you copy that?
Skitchy then runs to his position and quickly checks his instrument readouts.
"Yes, they are a ways off but they are really moving!"
"Drek, we gotta get under." Harley then transmits to Sam. "Sam, get back here pronto, we got 4 bogies flying in fast. They look like Ares assault 'copters. We gotta submerge now. Get over here!"
"Bummer." Sam says. "Hey kid, I gotta go. I got ya stabilized. I think your employers are on the way. Do me a favor, tell them there were three nightrunners and your team wacked 'em all. I can't be seen here right now, ya dig?"
The kid looks up at his rescuer and nods weakly. He reaches up and grabs the hand of the great man and squeezes tightly. He whispers thank you and then waves him away.
Sam then jumps overboard, falling three stories into the ocean. He clambers onto the jetski, and then calls on the com.
"Harley, I got an idea. Go ahead and submerge, I'm taking the other boat."
"No way chummer, git your T-2000 ass over here."
"Babe, I need some rays. I'm taking my vacation time-off -- effective immediately. I'll see ya in Bangkok at the warehouse.
"No!" she yells.
"Umm, I think . . . we're getting . . . static interference . . I'm losing you. . . over. . . See ya soon." he then shuts off the com, and speeds off to the boat, smiling.
"That drekking steroid brained fragger, I'm gonna waste him!" Harley screams as she opens her eyes to look at Skitchy. "He's decided to take the other boat!"
"We better get under then Chica, those choppers are coming in fast." Skitchy replies.
The sub then quickly submerges, and assumes a position directly under the great cargo ship.
"I'm starting to get used to how this fragger moves." Harley says over the com.
'Great,' Skitchy thinks to himself, 'Now I get to sit here alone and just stare at her sitting in that chair, for the rest of this trip. . . Make a joke about my cyberspur will ya -- it is an implant. . .'
Within about 3 minutes, Sunset Sam has gone 4 miles away from the large cargo ship. He quickly boards the ship, and seeing that it is a large dirty sleeping quarters for the pirates, quickly searches through several trunks full off personal belongings. Finding nothing in them, he ties several of them together, and pulls them to the edge of the boat. He then connects the rope to the jetski and pushes the trunks overboard. In moments all the trunks are full of water and slowly pull the jetski under. He then retreats into the cabin and begins eliminating all signs that there were more crew aboard this vehicle. All hammocks are torn down and any forms of weapon he can find are thrown overboard along with two cold stiff bodies, courtesy of Harley.
He is not a moment too soon as a large assault helo pulls up along side his small craft and points it's auto-cannon at him menacingly. He casually walks outside (hoping he wont be shot instantly) and waves while simultaneously calling on a primitive radio.
"Hoy chummers, I'm responding to an SOS I heard in the area, can I offer any assistance?" He asks with a smile.
The massive helo then comes in even closer, and intently peers in the windows of the cabin. It's jet rotors spinning silently. Seeing nothing of interest the helo then pulls back, turns and quickly flies away.
"Your assistance is not required, you are ordered to leave the area immediately."
Sam then, pretending he has been slighted, gives the 'copter the finger and returns inside.
"Whew, that was close." he says to himself. "Computer, plot the shortest route to Bangkok and move it."
"Understood." the electric engines then spring to life, and the slow but steady craft moves underway.
Sam then finds a high powered telescope connected to the top of the cabin and watches with interest as the images are shown over an ancient monitor in the cabin. He sees three assault helos circling the great cargo ship and one large troop carrier has already landed on deck. Several sets of troops are seen roaming around looking for survivors. It appears as if a few summary executions are underway of the few remaining pirates who had been maimed onboard but not killed in the initial combat. Sam also notices several techs busily working around the cabin trying to jury-rig the controls and get power back to the vehicle. Within a few minutes the ship comes back to life and the great lumbering beast begins moving again. He also watches as the remains of the three nightrunners slowly sink beneath the waves. Lastly, he is pleased to see several medics working on the wounded body of the young sailor Roo. At the least, they would want him alive for information. Information that the boy probably would not be able to provide until he had rested some.
"I am reading another life form off the starboard side some two hundred meters away, should I intercept?" the computer asks.
Sam quickly jumps up and gets his crossbow. Setting a bolt into the slot he peers through the magnifying scope. "Close to within 20 meters," he says.
The boat turns and then stops some distance away from a figure treading water. Sam sees it to be the scorched form of the ork. Massive burns cover his face and arms.
"Hoy gillslit, you are just HTK (hard to kill) aren't you?" Sam says with a grin as he stares down the length of his x-bow at the figure.
"I . . .will. . .kill. . . you!" the angry figure yells. The figure then quickly pulls a knife from under the waves and hurls it. It flies end over end and just misses Sam. It sticks into the side of the cabin with a "Thunk!"
"That's a bogus attitude dude," Sam then gives an order to the auto pilot. "Computer, resume previous route -- top speed." The boat instantly responds and pulls away. "Enjoy the swim chowder, at least you can't drown." Sam yells at the stranded ork while waving one hand. He then chuckles to himself, realizing the local current is only heading out deeper to sea.
Sam then finishes cleaning up the interior of the boat, wiping up blood where Harley finished off the remaining crew. He also disposes of further evidence of pirates within the vessel. He eventually finds paperwork describing the assault on the cargo ship Sydney and after completing his cleaning he proceeds to read in earnest. He pulls up a chair in the sunlight, relaxes, and absorbs the UV.
It appeared that the Sydney, a garbage vessel, was carrying chemical and nuclear waste to be dumped in Bangkok outside of the stiff environmental laws of other countries. Bangkok was not called the cesspool of the orient for no reason you see. Sam also infers that a mid to high level corp suit had been able to divert an Ares micronuke, blueprints, and further radioactive materials for making multiple warheads, to this freighter in an effort to sell them on the black market for his own personal economic advancement.
"From the looks of things onboard the Sydney right now I'd have to guess he is no longer working for the firm. . ." Sam says smiling.
Furthermore, the black market was not interested in paying the price demanded by the suit and had decided to steal the shipment before official delivery. That was where the merc and his band of cannon fodder came in.
"It appears they would have been successful had we not been there." Sam says as he leans back casually in the sunlight. "I can only assume that Ares caught onto this early and were just waiting for their chance to kill the pirates themselves. Perhaps we were not needed after all. . . Oh well, we'll give em a freebie, I am on vacation after all."