POOHEAD189

Space Dogs: Hired Guns in a Crumbling Empire

Markus groaned, grabbing the door panels and pulling himself into the cockpit, easing down into the command chair. He tried to tell himself he had been in rougher situations before, but even the campaign on Caraxes or the Battle of Gersemi might not live up to this farce. Behind him, even over the ever higher volume of the atmosphere's roar outside of the transport, he heard Jocasta rummaging around, before she slide up into the co-pilot's chair whilst pocketing a few extra dablunz and some gum she had found. Her seatbelt clicked audibly, but before she could help Markus shot her a look, and she placed her hands in her lap and fluttered her lashes in faux innocence.

"Don't touch anything." He told her, flipping up three panels. The hatches along the side of the transport opened, and the drag-flaps were released. Ideally they were meant to slow down the vessel in orbit, but they began to hear a shudder as the entire transport bucked and wriggled, scorching red now ensconsing the entire transport. There was a great, dry crack, and Jocasta looked back and dropped her jaw when she noticed the back half of the transport had broken off. The lost souls of the remaining crew now taken into the aether.

"I think we lost something." Markus said, and though it sounded like a quip, he wasn't smiling. The transport's control panel was foreign to him in many ways. He could not begin to guess why the authorities had picked up two apparently highly valued fugitives with a piece of shit rig from a bygone era, but he needed to work with what they had. Markus pointed at the panel next to Jocasta's left. "Pull that," he ordered. She did so, and Markus flipped a switch before grabbing the throttle. Suddenly, what sounded like wind blown through a hose gushed around them. Markus had switched all power to the emergency repulsors, having been unable to angle the vehicle into a position that gave them less friction in reentry. Luckily for them, the shuttle was blunt and wide, which reduced their speed, but it wouldn't help them much if they still hit the planet at mach 3.

Moments turned to a minute, and through careful maneuvering, Markus was able to turn the shuttle facing Mazda. The steeper the angle relative to the planet's center of mass the less friction there is, but while friction would burn them apart, it helped slow their speed.

"How fast are we going?" Markus asked. Jocasta flipped open panels and scrambled to find it, only for Markus to point to the top left of the panel and she looked up.

"Uhm, mach 2!"

Her heart almost leaped into her throat when Markus abruptly yanked on the throttle, and the shuttle, or what was left of it, lurched. They had entered the troposphere, and within moments the flames had been doused and replaced by steam. It was not readily apparently, but Markus had abruptly changed course to better glide, and they had pierced into a collection of tall rain clouds. He had switched the repulsors off, but a minute later, once they broke through and all was sunshine and endless land, he restarted them.

What followed was a long, rocky fall that saw them flying past picturesque lakes, cities, roads, woods, until finally Markus yelled for Jocasta to hold on, and the ship barreled into a copse of vast trees, shattering them and sending the shuttle careening end over end to crash onto a large grassy field. Dirt and grass and scattered kindling burst into the air, and it felt like hours before the spinning had stopped.

The sun's rays could be seen above, or below, Markus realized, when he found he was hanging from his seat three meters above the ground. All around him, walls of ceramsteel and endless wires of electronics were scattered like they were pulled apart and placed into an abstract painting of old earth. Markus felt bruised, and there was a gash on his forehead and a long cut on his arm that dripped blood, but otherwise he was fine. Before he could wonder about Jocasta, he heard her coughing from below him. He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat before unbuckling his seatbelt and toppling to the ground. He hit the grass with a thud, and then dragged himself to his feet to stumble out of the wreckage just as Jocasta did.

"That was rougher than I was expecting, but the best romps always are." Jocasta quipped, breathing heavily. Her hair was now a vibrant earthy brown. Markus didn't say anything to her. He caught his breath, and then plunged back into the wreckage, pulling broken plates and chairs out of his way, scavenging like a jackal. Jocasta heard him curse, and called in. "What are you doing!?"

Markus stepped out a moment later, dragging one of the guard's corpses out with a medikit under his arm. She had to repeat the question before he answered, and when he did he gave her a curst: "I'm going back."

"W-..." She started, getting to her feet. She glanced into the sky as if she could see The God's Eye from their position, then looked back at her companion. "Going back? Why?"

"To get my blade..." He said, wrapping a bandage around his arm, the adhesive making a loud zrrrrrrrrriiip as he did so, before he bit if off. "To get my money..." The mercenary wiped the blood from his forehead with a swab, placing some gel on it to keep it from bleeding, and then dropped all the rest back into the kid. He coughed, blinking. "And to get some payback..."

Jocasta blew her fringe out of her eyes, crossing her arms under her chest. "Well, I did see a starship hub a few miles away."

"I'm going back alone." He told her, turning back to the corpse. He slung the rifle the corpse had across his torso, and then picked up the shock baton. He pushed it in with a 'click.' Jocasta was right, there was a hub not too far, if he wasn't mistaken. He could pawn or more likely steal a transport there and get back into the air before anyone even knew something had gone amiss with the transport.

Jo approached him sweeping her hands out. How she hadn't got more than a scratch, or how he had only gotten two, was a mystery to him. "Whoa, you cannot get rid of me that easily! You owe me."

He slid the baton into his pocket. "You saved my life. I saved yours. We're squared."

"No, you owe me a beer." She reminded him. "And you owe me my half of the money. I didn't survive all of this just to lose everything." It was a point he sympathized with, but Markus was stubborn. He still was not sure why she wanted to help. He was a war veteran, and a fugitive, an extrasolar fugitive. As far as he was concerned, she could do whatever she wanted with her life as long as she got the hell out of the Eurymaces system. "Besides, it's suicide to go alone. Hell, it's probably suicide to go at all."

"I'm not going back to live. I'm going back to give Gallanis a massive headache." He said, tiring of the talk.

"And who is more of a headache than me?" She asked, and when her words sunk in, he put in a valiant effort, but in the end he did snort and flash a small smile. She smiled too, and continued. "Look, I know you're going for the aloof bad boy vibe. Don't get me wrong, it works. But maybe there's a better way. I think I got a plan."

"Better than the atmospheric reentry one?" He asked, and then bent down to the other items he had collected.

"Much better." She said triumphantly. She was so satisfied with Markus evidently agreeing, she didn't expect the rifle and shock baton he tossed her way, Deftly she caught both, but the baton was slick with blood, and she curled her lip in distaste. "Eugh!"

Space Dogs: Hired Guns in a Crumbling Empire

"Agreed," Markus said, taking his seat in the cockpit and preparing the ship for launch. He set the three SCA beacons active and activated the power systems, before charging the short propulsion lift. Soon the transport thrummed with life, and Markus received clearance from control, happy to see no one expected anything amiss from the station. Jocasta finished inputting a system's analysis before giving the thumbs up the ship was acceptable for travel.

The transport lifted up steadily, and with an ease of many flight hours, Markus took her out through the hanger shields and into the void. Life support systems activated and rumbled, clean air filtered through the vents. For a moment, Markus had the idea to eject the mutant anyway, but he had given his word it was her decision and let it go. They'd let him out after the job was done.

"So, what's with your hair?" Markus asked, without so much as glancing at his partner.

"I'll tell you once we we finish this up," She said.

"Fair enough."

---

2 Hours Later...

The back rooms of Adan Gallanis's suit were lavishly furnished, cushioned chairs and pristine tables bedecked with velvet banners. The carpets were clean and soft, and yet the busts and iconography were particularly spartan, bespeaking the long martial past of the moon, Ahura. Markus had not believed the station was this large, but both he, Jocasta, and two guards continued down long halls and banquet rooms into they reached a purpose-made meeting room.

On the back wall was a huge mural of The Ride of the Valkyries by Johan Gustaf Sandberg, and the wall to its left held two 'windows' that were merely holograms of a peaceful lakeside view, both framed by elaborate purple drapes a medieval king might have. There were two dining tables, but the guards bade Markus and Jocasta sit on the long couch under the mural as they waited. Their weapons had been left behind on the transport, and Gallanis's son's prone form had been taken from them as soon as they had arrived and alerted the baron of their success.

As for the man himself, it took only a few moments of waiting for Adan Gallanis himself to make his entrance, stepping out of another door, likely to more private chambers. Behind him accompanied a servant with glasses and a bottle of what Markus guessed was some vintage of wine.

"Ah, to the victors go the spoils!" Gallanis said, gently clapping his hands together, a smile on his face. He wore a comfortable and resplendent indigo coat. He pulled up a chair and sat himself before both Markus and Jocasta as the servant placed the bucket of ice down, removing the wine and pouring a glass with a fine deftness. "Would you care for a drink?"

Markus opened his mouth to speak, but Jocasta shook her head and pointed at Markus with a thumb. "This one promised the next drinks would be on his tab. Can't let him weasel out of that." She said, but Markus surmised she was simply being careful. That and anything that postponed the payment was an obstacle. Baron Gallanis inclined his head, and merely took his own glass in his hand.

"Very well. Now, first allow me to congratulate you on your resourcefulness. Not many mercenaries or bounty hunters could have done what you two did. In fact I am so impressed, I wish I could employ you for future jobs. I know I'll be needed good guns for hire." As he spoke, the servant filled his cup and then stepped back without a word. The baron placed it to his lips and sipped, savoring the taste. He gave a satisfied 'ahh' and placed the cup down on the table. "Unfortunately, you two won't be in the market after this job."

"Even with a sizeable payday, I don't know if I'll hang my sword up just yet." Markus remarked.

"Your sword, yes! A Secare Sabre, if I am not mistaken? I wonder, are you a veteran of the Caraxes Campaign, or did you kill a man who was and took his sword? Either way, you're a dangerous man. And you, my dear, such intelligence with such beauty, and with a taste of showmanship! Your infiltration of my meeting was well done." He stated with good humor, but within moments, the mirth faded from his eyes. "But... I was not entirely honest with you. Truth be told, I had thought the White Sharks would not be defeated, and that a large group of mercenaries attacking would be seen as a breach of security and faith on Mazda's part, but you two actually succeeded. My gratitude notwithstanding, I do have to confess that the man you captured was not my son. He is the heir to the Lerouxe household that rules over Mazda, and now thanks to you, I have him as a bargaining chip. And alas, while I consolidate my position, I'll need to feed Mazda with the two responsible for the heir's disappearance, which is, unfortunately, the two of you."

As he spoke the final words, the two guards that had escorted them aimed their plasma rifles at Jocasta and Markus, the lights on their barrels brightening as their safeties were taken off.

---

The Gods Eye held a small, private prison for malcontents and political prisoners, and Markus was unsure which he would consider himself at the moment. The walls were a meter thick of pherocrete, each cell being large enough to house a maximum of two individuals. Across from their cell, through the bars that were rigged to shock anyone who touched them, there was a cell with a bed and a toilet, and even a sink. Markus was unsure if they had been placed across from it to taunt them, as both Markus and Jocasta were not only in a space that was every inch bare, hard, and cold, but their arms were shackled above their heads with manacles of titanium-C, the same material the entire space station was made of.

As they had been taken away, Gallanis had told them they would be retrieved by Mazda officials tomorrow, in approximately 1800 hours. Their food, water, and any other basic needs could be seen to by the jailers that arrived to collect them. As it was, the baron took no chances with them.

Markus's dark, unkempt mane of hair cascaded down before his face and shoulders. He looked very much the part of a dangerous, albeit somewhat comely, marauder that had been caught by the rightful authorities.

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

The Aes Sedai was exhausted from her use of the One Power, which made Davian a bit more comfortable being around her, but it also made escaping a bit more complicated. The thief-taker ushered her out of the gaol and escorted her as best he could to the servant's quearters close by. He had only been in the Stone for less than two weeks and had spent the majority of his time in the city, but he knew the rough outline of the place. They passed by maids and servants who more or less did not look their way save for a few curious glances, but Davian knew they would eventually get unlucky and run into someone who recognized one or both of them.

Down a short corridor, the lean man pulled Zoya into a room of cloths, blankets, and towels. He swiftly rummaged through stacks of the thicker, less intricately designed sheets and found one that was bland enough to serve the purpose he was searching for. He then pulled a more embroidered, bright red cloth out from under a pile and measured it with his arm, pursing his lips.

"Turn around," He told Zoya. She merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He sighed. "Turn around please, Sakura-Sedai."

"That's better," she said, clearly not used to being pulled anywhere, particularly by a man. She stepped away, but before she could ask the purpose, Davian had enshrouded her in the sheet and she gave a girlish squeak that was particularly un-Aes Sedai like. "We can't hide you're a woman with that body, but we can make you appear not as you are."

"Don't speak of me in such familiar terms." She warned him as he placed it around her form like a cloak.

"I'm just being pragmatic." He said, next wrapping her hair in a blue sheet of golden trim, and then grabbing the smaller red cloth, wrapping it around her waist and clinching it emphasize her hourglass figure. "If we get out of here, you can thank me again."

He stepped back, and she peered down and then glanced at a window to view her reflection. It dawned on her very quickly, as he had expected. She was an intelligent woman. "While I don't think it quite fits the bill, this is not a bad attempt at making me one of the Atha'an Miere. At least at a passable glance."

"That's all we will allow anyone to see." He said, inclining his head with a swift and subtle nod. It was too bad she was Aes Sedai, she was truly did catch the eye. Hopefully, once they had escaped, there would be a reward or at least a suitable compensation for his trouble, but the more realistic part of him knew that was not coming. He had put her in the cell in the first place, after all. Davian cursed himself silently, knowing no matter how he sliced his time in Tear, he was a fool. Either for capturing her or breaking her out, one of those was a failure that would see his time here wasted. Some thief-taker he was. "Follow me, we must reach the stables."

"Once we do, I will lead us out." She said imperiously. He opened his mouth to argue, but she had already begun to open the door and step into the hallway. He hurried out with her and took the lead, wondering why all the world he had rescued an Aes Sedai with an attitude.

Dragon Age: The Grey Dawn

I shall join, and I shall tag @Shu and @Penny as well

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

"From trophies the Aiel carried, it was obvious they were coming back from the Blight. The Trollocs had followed, but by the tracks only a few lived to return after killing the Aiel. As for the girl, she would not let anyone touch her, even to tend her wounds. But she seized the Seeker of that band by his coat, and this is what she said, word for word. 'Leafblighter means to blind the Eye of the World, Lost One. He means to slay the Great Serpent. Warn the People, Lost One. Sightburner comes. Tell them to stand ready for the end. Tell them ...' And then she died."

Smoke wafted lazily out of the storyteller's pipe as the common room went quiet. Only the soft thuds of mugs setting down on wooden tabletops could be heard, as if the very world held its breath. Davian stared into his own cup, worry rising in his gullet. Not because he feared for the world at large, but because he knew his mind was changing already.

After they had announced their intentions to kill the thief-woman, Davian had felt regret rise in his throat. It was an old feeling, and one he quite disliked. Not that he felt he did wrong by bringing a thief to justice, but before they even discovered what she had stolen, they had thought to execute her! He had no love for Aes Sedai, but it was not justice in the way he had imagined. Davian had hunted less reputable men for other men to get petty vengeances, he was not above such things if he could fill his belly. However, the High Lords were a reputable body and people he had assumed were to grant him the chance to make a name for himself in the south. Now, he knew not only were they going to keep their association a secret, but they were going to simply snip the head off the Aes Sedai without even speaking to her.

He had left the Stone to grab himself a drink, making himself put one foot in front of the other for the money. It was not his business, he told himself. He had performed his duties and had done it well. Now he would wait for his payment...

But then the light blasted storyteller walked into the common room. Someone without the flair of a true gleeman but with a voice that could captivate a crowd, only this night it was not of rumors in Illain, but portents of doom. Thunder and fire, Aiel, the roof of the world. He listened despite himself, and it only honed in just how poorly he felt of the whole situation. And he felt it in his gut as well. Witches they might be, but Aes Sedai were the largest thorns in the side of the dark one.

"Blood and bloody ashes." He cursed, downing the last of his ale.

---

One Hour later...

Davian could feel nothing, see nothing. The flows of Saidar were as translucent to him as still air, and yet he saw the men being immobilized and flung back as if they were naught but toys. All save the last man, who gave a heroic effort to thrust his pike forward and end the woman's life. Even now Davian was unsure of what to do. He had convinced himself to save her, but seeing the power now wielded in front of him, it was unnatural, unsettling. He almost understood the Whitecloaks and their ravings about the Tar Valon heresies. For a moment he felt it would be best to stay in the shadows, watch the woman die, and collect his payment.

And yet he found himself walking forward, saw himself take out his mace, and bludgeoned the pikeman on the back of the head. He saw the woman's eyes widen in surprise, and Davian's gaze met hers, locking for a moment. He then turned and proceeded to do the same to every man caught in her web, knocking them either unconscious or senseless. There was little blood, he was good at hitting someone without causing much damage to their body if need be. Once finished, standing over the last Defender, he glanced at her.

"I will let you out of there. Just don't fling me around as well, deal?"

[Discord] Game of Thrones [Seeking an Oberyn, Jaime or Joffrey]

Sorry, you cannot advertise to roleplay off-site, even on discord.

Space Dogs: Hired Guns in a Crumbling Empire

The Suytnet 22's air was filtered through a standard SIPA system, which removed much of the stench from what wafted off of most humans and mutant's bodies. Sweat and the like would permeate the cabin without such measures, but because of it, for brief periods of time the clean air gives one the stark, pungent smells of various stronger things. In this case, blood.

Markus had been accosted like Jocasta was, a burly merc had hidden in the corridor storage hatch. Luckily, the serpent-like mutant had a taste for the dramatic and had announced itself when it launched at Jocasta. Like as not it was to indicate to his ally that he was attacking.

When the mutant had landed on Jocasta, the other mercenary had burst out of the door, nearly breaking its sliding mechanism, and rammed into Markus and the opposite wall of the corridor. Markus hit it hard, and found his face shoved into the wall by a big hand, the other grabbing Markus's sword arm. The two struggled for a brief moment before Markus was punched in the Kidney, and instinctively he knew his attacker's next move was to grab whatever bladed weapon or handgun he had to finish him with. Markus changed strategies, and stomped down on the merc's foot hard, giving him enough room to elbow the man in the side. Markus spun, taking a fist to the face but kicking his foot out, stamping onto the merc's chest. Both stumbled back, the merc shoved back into the hatch, and both were dazed for a moment.

In unison, they recovered themselves and realized the predicament they were in. Both reached for weapons. Markus' gun was larger than the handgun the merc had, and instead of trying to fire before him, he sidestepped, and the first lasbolt of the handblaster scorched the wall where Markus had stood not a moment before. The merc's failure to hit was the last thing he realized, because by the time he moved to continue firing, a three round burst had torn through his neck and lower jaw. Blood and flesh spattered into the hatch, and just as the merc's body began to slump, Markus turned his weapon to the mutant that loomed over Jocasta's prone form. A swift glance showed blood seeping out of the woman's arm, and the mutant's fangs were crimson.

Markus fired another burst, but the serpent-man moved with an otherworldly grace, only getting clipped by one of the rounds in the side. Markus went to fire again, having the thing dead to rights, but the gun 'clicked.' He realized he hadn't the time to reload it earlier. Rookie mistake on his part, he knew. Markus cursed, and the serpent mutant leaped at him. It's sinuous neck reared its head back to strike as it barreled toward him, but Markus growled and shot his hand out to grip its slim neck, keeping its snapping maw at bay. Instead of using it for its primary purpose, Markus instead used the bullpup as a ram, shoving it perpendicular into the torso of the mutant. Luckily, Markus was heavier than his opponent's vaguely humanoid, serpentine form. It hissed in frustration as Markus charged and all but lifted it, the mutant back-pedaling and vainly trying to wriggle free as Markus shoved it across the inner deck of the transport. Reeling, it tried clawing at the mercenary until Markus threw the thing into another hatch, this one reinforced and far larger.

The mutant writhed and tried to catch itself, but it fell headlong into the bay, and Markus immediately shut the door with a 'clang,' grabbing the lever outside of it and pulling it down to lock the mutant behind the doorway.

Immediately, a snake head snapped at the reinforced window at the top half of the bulkhead. Markus did not flinch. He simply stared at it. Hands and fangs began to scrabble at the window, but Markus merely glared.

"Releasssse me!" It cried in anger, its voice echoing within the small chamber.

"Is your bite poisonous?" Markus asked it, grim. "Answer me, or you will be dead."

It was then the mutant realized its situation. Markus had not merely locked it within a cargo hatch. Behind it was a hatch the exact same size as the one it clawed it, except it led into nothing but air. And once Markus began flying the ship, he could eject the mutant into the cold expanse of space whenever he wished. It's eyes, iris's sharp like daggers, widened in sudden fear. It hissed with a subjugated sibilance, and then nodded.

"Yessss, b-but my partner hasss the antidote! Jussssst let me live pleassse," it whined.

Markus ignored it, sprinting his aching form across the ship, passed Jocasta who looked to be lightly convulsing. Swiftly he began searching the mercenary he had killed, his hands jerking back and forth out of urgency and adrenaline from the fight. The next five seconds seemed hours, but he found a small vial on the dead man's belt, and then stumbled out of the corridor, kneeling down next to the prone woman. She shook, her body growing clammy. Markus gently cradled her head and parted her lips, before uncorking the glass vial and gingerly pouring it down her throat. She coughed, but he did his best to help it go down by massaging her throat, and once the vial was drained, he dropped the it to clatter onto the vyroplex floor and waited.

"Come on..." He breathed after a moment, and checked her pulse.

At first it was erratic, but soon it was steady, and moments later, color returned to her cheeks. Jocasta would find consciousness just as Markus was tying a bandage around the bite wound in her wrist, as blood had pooled beneath it. He cut the bandage with a bite, and finished wrapping it. He saw her eyes flutter open slightly, but instead of saying they were now even, he shook his head.

"Not bad, but a little secret from a professional: If you're going to make it in this business, dying on your first job is not strategically sound. Lucky for you, you got me here."

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

The High Lords had gathered, or those that could be summoned at such short notice. After the accused had been sent to her 'chambers,' Davian had been called to recount his entire investigation into the matter. Tedosian and Alteima, as well as Corleon seemed particularly of interest to the tale, hoping their investment had paid off. Davian had a good memory, something in dire need for a thief-taker, and once he was done, he lowered his head to grant the High Lords time to speak in the elaborately furnished chamber.

High Lord Sunamon Haellin cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, the cushions beneath not quite thick enough to retain his weighty mass. "We can see why you suspected this woman, but most of this evidence is circumstantial, and there is no solid proof! Even still, I believe I would have had similar thoughts to you, Master Thief-Taker..." He did not appear to wish for an argument, hoping Davian would be able to contradict him, at least to the thief-taker's eyes. He did his best to quell his pride enough to not ask he be called by his name rather than his profession. He merely wished for the gold and then to be gone.

"That is why I was honest with her as to who I was, your eminence." Davian said, inclining his head, his eyes sweeping over the other lords that had gathered. They all looked in different states of duress. "But when I did so, rather than being allowed to be questioned..."

"She fled, and the trollop had a meticulous plan laid out just for such an eventuality." Alteima said with a look of distaste on her pretty face, snapping her fan out and fluttering it back and forth like a humming bird's wings. It seems she had elected to let her innocent facade slip amongst this group. "She is not here for reasons above suspicion, regardless. My only question is where she has stashed what she stole?"

Davian regarded the High Lady, his hands out, hiding a smile. "I have informants coordinating her places of residence now, my lady. If she put them in any place she was seen to frequent, we will have them."

"We should have questioned her further, or put her under duress. I know that might be unbecoming, but these are pieces beyond value." High Lord Corleon argued, not even deigning to look Davian's way. If the rumors were true, he was Alteima's lover, for the simple fact they both despised her husband.

"Even if various things point to her, she does deserve a fair trial as all citizens do." Sunamon said, raising his head. It made his neck stand out like a turkey's. Davian applauded the large lord for his sense of fairness, but another part of him was unsure if this was an act or not.

Lord Tedosian snapped at him as if this were an old argument. "Might I remind you she is not a citizen? Light, she could be a spy for Mayene!"

As they began to squabble like so many quacking ducks, a small side door opened. A man wearing a red surcoat embroidered with gold trim approached and knelt before Alteima. In the doorway at the back of a chamber, a man in what looked to be commoner clothing waited, his hat off. Davian eyed him thoughtfully, then looked at lady Alteima's way when she stifled a gasp. Her big, pretty eyes, always so lovely, snapped at Davian with a dangerous gaze.

"You, thief-taker!" She called. "What did you say the woman's name was?"

Davian blinked, but spoke without hesitation. "Sakura, only, my lady. I did not know if that was a surname or not. Likely a lie."

She shook her head, but then waved Davian away as if he were a fly and spoke to the other high lords present. "I believe she is incapable of lying." Alteima responded ominously. "And I say we must kill her, and do it quietly."

"Kill her?" Tedosian asked. "Why?"

Even Corleon looked surprised enough to question her, but he held his tongue. She fanned herself with more force as she spoke. "I have received word that there are reports of an Aes Sedai within the region, one who's name is Sakura." Davian saw the High Lord's look aghast, and Davian did not blame them. If he had truly walked in on an Aes Sedai in the bath, he felt lucky she did not fling him into the street with the swiftness of a loosed arrow. "Even if this rumor is false, we cannot take the chance."

"But if she is Aes Sedai, then she is innocent...?" Lord Sunamon remarked, but Tedosian cut him off.

"She did not directly say that she did not steal the items. You are not learned in such things. She spoke in a way that left us to make our own doubts. And if this is true, my dear wife is right. We must kill her, and quietly."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

It all happened so fast, even my mind could only focus on so much.

I heard Emmaline's voice ring out and felt the power of her psychic gift burst forth. The cackle from Clara's submachine riddled the air. I was infected with tunnel vision, my eyes focused entirely on Vorn. The traitor had turned just in time to meet my wild charge. So quickly had this all transpired that I hadn't even the frame of mind to unsheathe my power sword.

Vorn recovered like a rearing snake, taking my first punch and rolling with it, letting the weight of the blow drive him into a counter strike. I shoved it aside before it took purchase, and the two of us struck, pivoted and kicked when applicable. Vorn attacked with furious strength, a wild look in his eyes with a barely suppressed snarl. His fists hammered into my arm as I blocked, and I fell to sweep his legs out from under him. He leaped, seeing the move a fraction too soon for it land. I rolled away from his falling knee, rising too quickly for him to take advantage. I dodged a blow and locked his arm, pressing a palm into his shoulder as my other hand pulled his arm out to the breaking point, but he spun and leaped, letting his body realign as he attempted to throw me to the ground with a drop kick. It struck my breastplate, but I altered my stance and held my ground, letting the carapace armor absorb the blow.

He went for a knife, yanking it out and stabbing at me with the alien surety of a scorpion's stinger, stabbing downwards. Unfortunately for him, I caught the knife on my armor's bracer and headbutted him in the face. He nearly fell headlong to the floor, but instead he just lost his knife from my wrenching it away, the blade clattering to the ground. To his credit, he did not seem too perturbed, instead he strode forward again, fists up, ready for more. He fought desperately and was growing tired, but still, he fought well. Almost too well. I had no doubt in my mind he was far older than I was, and thanks to either rejuvenant technology or accursed blessings by his masters, he was as youthful and hale as I was.

But I had caught him at a moment of weakness, and I was better armored, and most importantly, I had righteous conviction.

Finally, he feinted, and then lunged for the power sword at my belt. Only seconds ago had I realized I had it, so blinded by my mission. My mind worked quickly, and as his hand closed around the hilt of the weapon, I let him pull it out by a few marginal inches. I grabbed his arm with my left hand and struck him in the face with my right, my fist hitting his nose so hard I felt the cartilage shatter. The words 'die!' fumbled on his lips as he staggered, letting go of the hilt. I pulled it out for him, and with a swift stroke, the blade cleaved through his torso like a scythe through wheat.

It was then, even before he even realized he was dead, before his body began to crumble in two, did I let myself view my surroundings. My blood ran cold when I saw the chaos marine towering over Emmaline, her power nearly spent and armed with naught by her staff. Even if I were an adeptus astartes, I would not reach her in time, and so I gambled. As Vorn began to fall to pieces, I spun, gripping my power sword and swinging it in a terrible arc before I let it go. The blade, thrumming in the air, flew end over end across half a dozen meters before the blade sliced through ceramite armor as if it were paper. The sword burst forth from the chaos space marine's chest like a lance of lightning, and quivered there as the traitor astartes paused in its mad laughter.

I had followed the blade's arc, and seconds after the sword had sliced through the armor, I gripped the hilt. However, astartes were not killed so easily. With speed beyond what I thought he was still capable of, he spun and struck me with his elbow. The blow was powerful enough to send me and the sword flying back, skidding across the ground. Luckily the blow had hit me square in my breastplate, and merely cracked a piece of the armor.

Still, the traitor marine was heavily damaged from that. Its breath ragged and its left hand pressing to the gaping wound. I got to my feet, blade up and eyes set.

"You will not stop me! Lord Tzeentch has plans you cannot comprehend!" The astartes said, its voice reverberating from the augmented voice box integrated into its eldritch helm.

"It is my plan that you die here and now. Make peace with your bitch gods," I said, my voice steeled as I moved to hold my power sword two handed, its blade pointed straight up in an archaic duelist grip. Suddenly, bullets sprayed at the traitor marine, ricocheting off its armor and drawing its attention. Clara let out a battlecry, and I charged in.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil had not expected it to work, but drink did make him have even less inhibitions than normal, and he was glad he charged through. When his buzzed mind was trying to check his files on what churlish meant, Jocasta kissed him thoroughly, Neil was so surprised and off balance she was able to shove him back into the pool table, the two landing atop it, legs dangling off the side.

You know, for all of the complications that had arisen from being caught by Jocasta, he was starting to think it was all worth it. He got to fight in a mech again, he nearly chocked laughing multiple times, got to be on holo-vids across an enormous collection of space stations, and now he found himself eating pizza, drinking good drinks, and finally making out with one of the most fun, attractive girls he had ever known. Yeah, it sucked but it's paying off.

One of the billiard balls shot out from under Neil's back, clacking against another. He grunted but was a bit too preoccupied with the extremely hot woman atop him.

"Whoa," he marveled.

"I am a generou-" She started, but Neil grabbed the fringes of her jacket and pulled her to him, kissing her back. Their lips pressed and within seconds, tongues met. He felt her hand in his hair and for his part, he grabbed her backside with his right to help her onto the felt table as his left curled around her back. He tastes alcohol, but she had a nice taste to her he couldn't quite make out (and he chuckled at the pun). They lay there, not undressing but not pulling away either.

Neil decided to play with her belt, yanking on it a bit to make her backside shake. As he did so, his fingers brushed something familiar. He blinked, pulling a small gun off her and looking past her hair to confirm. Wait, that was his gun from his apartment! He had thought he lost it! He was going to complain!

She slid a hand down his neck and placed it on his chest, before sliding around his body to hold him tighter, her mouth opening wider to kiss him more hungrily.

...He could complain later maybe...

As he placed the gun down and further entangled himself with her, on the holo-tube, a sportscaster's voice rose, saying "The victory of Neil Edwards tonight was spectacular, and the previous showmanship of his women companion awed the audiences! It appears these two were ready to rock space itself tonight!"