Skythikon

Sailing the Seven Seas

"Good," Alexander replied with a grin. It always made him happy to hear that things were going according to his plan. He freed his arm from Lucy's grip and loosened the drawstrings of the pouch, pouring out roughly half the coins it contained and shoving them into his pocket. He closed the pouch and tossed it to Lucy. "You will get the other half when you finish the job. Do not worry, I have ways of knowing when that is achieved." He said. If his short experience in the tavern taught him anything, it was that pirates as a whole liked to brag about knowing about some kind of special loot hidden away somewhere. Alexander reckoned that any pirate who knew about the fleet would either start telling it to people around him or her, or would use it as a way to recruit more crewmen.

Of course, if that did not work, Alexander always had his contacts at the piers. It was always useful to know people at the place where everyone has to pass if they wish to leave or arrive on the island. Curaçau was quite a ways away; far enough for any ship to require resupply, but not far enough to make the journey not worth the potential loot. Alexander did not even know what the French fleet was transporting, but he guessed that it had to be something important if they were willing to resort to using a Dutch port rather than going the extra distance to French Guiana.

"This is what I want you to pass on. Tell no one that you heard it from me. If they ask, say that you got it from one of your customers, or that you overheard it." Alexander said and moved closer to Lucy so that he could speak in a quiet whisper. "A French trade fleet will be approaching Curaçao. Two Galleons, two frigates. They are due in..." He paused and took out the letter from his pocket, scanning through it quickly. "A week. Ten days at most. I do not know what the cargo is, but if it is important enough for the French to start using Dutch ports, then it has to be something worth plundering."

He stepped back and lifted his hat off his head for a brief moment in goodbye. "Well then, that concludes that. I shall not hold you any longer." He said, turned and walked towards the door. Just as he was about to open it and step back out onto the street, he said over his shoulder, "Oh, and don't try to betray me. I take care of the people who work for me but I will end those who cross me without hesitation."

With that, he opened the door and stepped out, shutting it behind him. He adjusted his coat and pulled his scarf back up to cover his face. There was not much left for him to do tonight; everything that he had planned could wait, at least until the next morning. He decided to return to the tavern and start planning his eventual escape from the island.

Sailing the Seven Seas

"Very well, miss." Alexander said with a nod and followed her to the small house. As he followed close behind Lucy, he noted that she was indeed a very attractive person, if only from the exterior. From the rumours he had heard, there was little good to be said about her as a person, but Alexander was going to wait to see for himself before passing any judgement. After all, everything that came out of the mouth of a inebriated sailor had to be taken with a pinch of salt. Alexander found it hard to look away from Lucy's swaying hips and a small part of him, for a moment, considered paying a little extra to get some of his needs satisfied.

Discipline. There is much to be done. He quickly chided himself. There was a time for work and a time for play, and this was certainly no time for him to go around having his fun. Once he was done convincing Lucy to work for him - there was no doubts in his mind that she would not - he had to keep an eye and ear out for pirates capable enough to attack the French fleet. Not only that, he also needed to start working on getting himself off the island. It was highly possible that someone with a big mouth would eventually lead the French to him and Alexander wanted to be as far away as possible from the town before they even start the investigation process.

Alexander followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. Almost as soon as it was flush with the walls beside it, he turned around and began to speak in a serious tone. "Right, time to be honest." He said and pulled out the bag of coins, dangling it from his fingers. "I am not here for your usual services. Rather, I need you to help me with a task." This was something he had done plenty of times, but he still needed to tread carefully. Not everyone was the same. "I understand you are the...How should I say, popular choice in this part of town? I have information I would like you to spread around to pirates. Good, capable pirates."

He grinned at her and shook the bag of coins. "I am not asking you to do much, just to do your job and perhaps whisper a few words of my choice to the stronger pirates." He said. "So, are you interested?"

Sailing the Seven Seas

"Goedendag," Alexander said in his native tongue and gently took Lucy's hand. The words that came out of her mouth sounded French to his ears, and if there was one race he did not want to be confused for, it was French. He pulled down his scarf with his other hand and planted a quick kiss on the back of Lucy's hand. It had nothing to do with chivalry or good manners; the move had allowed him to sneak in a quick sniff of Lucy's scent. From the damp feel of her hand and slight scent of mud and pigs still clinging to her, Alexander knew that she had only just cleaned herself off and thus was still working. He did not need to guess; he had spent the better part of the past two weeks carrying out surveillance on the tavern. It had nothing to do with a job; he just wanted to make sure he knew everything about the place that would be his base of operations for the foreseeable future.

Alexander released her hand and stepped back slightly. The rumours he had heard were quite accurate, Lucy was indeed a very attractive lady. Now if she was as money-minded as what the other men in the tavern say, she would be perfect for Alexander's purposes. The way he saw it, the richer the pirate, the more experience they had. He did not want some amateur going after the French trade fleet lest he alert them to the possibility of an attack. He was quite certain that the French had enough resources in the region to reinforce the fleet with at least a couple of frigates or even men-of-war.

"Shall we retreat to somewhere more private?" Alexander asked. He had conversed with his contact in Dutch previously and thus had no fears of being overheard. However, with Lucy, he would be forced to use English, a language even the dumbest of pirates could understand. "So that we may discuss payment?"

Sailing the Seven Seas

Sorry, solving some issues with my draft. Will make a post later. ><''

Space Station Starting.

"Slave?" Kezal whispered that word to himself. That word tasted bitter in his mouth and the act of simply saying it made him feel uncomfortable. One of the core tenets of Sera'Shuun culture was that everyone, regardless of rank or position, was created equal and thus deserved equal rights. Slavery was thus quite an alien concept to the Kezal. While he had read about the ancient tribes practicing it, it had been centuries since the Sera'Shuun officially outlawed slavery and made it an offense punishable by dishonouring. Still, he supposed that it made sense for the lady to be a slave. That would explain her lack of name or improper syntax; not many slaves were expected to be spoken to or speak.

The fact that she knew the Sera'Shuun language, however, troubled Kezal. It was possible that her previous master was a Sera'Shuun, but then that would mean that he had managed to actually procure a slave without being caught. That was no easy feat, considering the Sera'Shuun enforced strict military patrols throughout its borders. Then again, it was highly possible her master lived outside of civilized space, in one of the plentiful lawless systems.

Kezal shook his head slightly. That was not his concern. At least not currently. Firstly, he had a hostage situation to defuse and the lady had generously offered her help. "I'm not your..." He paused, hesitating to spit that one word out. "Master, and neither is anyone on this station. I am Sera'Shuun. Honour and personal morals prevent me from taking a slave." He said and looked over his shoulder at her. "I promise you that I will spare no effort to find out who did this to you, but first we have a hostage situation to defuse." He cocked his head slightly to the left and extended a hand. He had seen her awkward and slow movements when she first stood up. "That is, if you are still up for it."

---

"Are you sure it's this way?" Arikaz asked, her voice laced with irritation and frustration. Her dark grey armour was much like Kezals, only it was a lot more form-fitting and lightweight; perfect for the clandestine missions she had to perform during her service. She followed close behind her partner - a human male easily a head shorter than her - as they rushed down a dimly-lit corridor. "Marcel Tabatier!" She said sharply when her partner failed to respond to her initial question. When he did not reply again, Arikaz decided to just give up and hope that he knew where they were going. Hostage situations were supposed to be solved quickly, but unfortunately, they had taken an unplanned break when Marcel decided that a shelf of botany equipment in disarray needed to be arranged properly.

She sighed. At least it was better than the alternative. She could be working with Kezal. The Enforcer and Intelligence Corps never seemed to get along and that rivalry had been carried over from their time in service.

They turned a corner and skidded to a halt as they unexpectedly came face to face with the hostage taker and his victim. "Put the damn axe down before you do something stupid!" Marcel shouted, drawing his custom-built and imported electroshock pistol.

"Just give him a shock and get this over with," Arikaz snapped. "We have better-"

"Ignore my partner, she's always a grouch." Marcel said to the hostage taker and flashed Arikaz a sideways grin. "Just put the axe down, let the man go and come quietly with us. No one needs to get hurt."

Sailing the Seven Seas

The tavern was crowded and stank of sweat, salt and tobacco smoke. An off-key violin, played by either an amateur filled the room with a noise that could barely be called music, but that did not stop the patrons of the tavern from trying to sing a shanty to the tune. The tables and chairs were little more than scraps of wood hastily nailed together and the floor looked like it needed to be replaced weeks ago. While the crowd was still as well-behaved as pirates could be - plenty of swearing, drinking and boasting but no fist fights yet - the free flow of drinks and occasional boasts of knowledge of treasure was bound to start a fight eventually.

None of this bothered Alexander Van Rooiakker. Well, the tobacco smoke did, but he just saw it as part of the job. He looked relaxed as he sat in his seat, his posture slouched and his left hand drumming a steady beat against the surface of the table. He wore a dark brown military style regimental coat which looked as if it had seen far better days, a pair of dark brown trousers and knee-high, buckled boots. His attire allowed him to blend in with the crowd, more or less. The weapons he carried on his person - two pistols at his hip with two more on his lower back, a sword sheathed at his right side and a carbine slung across his back - did not allow him to be the most unnoticeable person, but it did keep most people away.

Alexander pushed the rough-spun scarf wrapped around his neck and lower half of his face further up his nose. It was uncomfortable, but it did help to conceal his identity, and that was what he wanted to achieve. His line of work was dangerous, to say the least, and he wanted to take every precaution when meeting a contact. He was pretty sure a number of them were just a downsizing in the navy away from becoming a pirate, or were already pirates. Still, Alexander enjoyed his work. He was paid to drink, explore and do as much harm as he could to the French government. That was a dream job as far as Alexander was concerned.

Speaking of contacts, he furrowed his brow as he scanned the crowds for the person who was supposed to meet him. He did not like people being late.

"I hear plenty of pirates these days are searching for something called the Touch of Midas," A smooth voice said in English opposite him. Alexander pushed his wide-brimmed hat up slightly and saw a well-dressed man in a clean, sky-blue coat and wearing a tricorne on his head opposite him. The man took a seat and leaned forward. "A fool's errand, but at least it is of their own volition."

At the mention of his codename, Alexander leaned forward. "Where the hell were you?" He hissed. "This isn't exactly a good place to leave a man waiting on his own."

"Calm yourself, Red." The man said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "My ship was unexpectedly delayed by rough seas."

Alexander furrowed his brow, but decided to drop the subject. "Why are we meeting?" He asked bluntly.

"Two weeks ago, the French informed us that they would be using Curaçau as a stop for one of their trade fleets." The man said, took out a sealed envelope from his pocket and placed it on the table. He slid it across to Alexander. "Of course, if they were to be attacked, the blame would fall to the Dutch Government. However, if the information was to say, be leaked by an adventurer in the Caribbean..."

"It would be harder for the French to make any sort of accusation against the Dutch government." Alexander said.

The man smirked. "I have already arranged for one of our own ships to be attacked by pirates. A small sloop, nothing too important, but exactly what we might use to transport information quickly. Of course, my own vessel will come to the rescue and chase the pirates away, but not before they have boarded the sloop and gathered whatever loot they could carry." He said and leaned back, looking absolutely pleased with himself. "Anyone who catches the pirates will find an unsealed copy of the letter I have handed you in their possession."

Alexander took the letter and tore it open. Indeed, the hand-written message inside was a request from the French government to use the port of Curaçao as a rest stop for one of their trade fleets. It seemed small, consisting of only two frigates and two galleons. Easy pickings for a skilled pirate, or a group of unskilled ones. "Why not have your pirates spread the information, or just have them attack the fleet without coming to me?"

The man laughed. "Their only vessel is a brig and I don't trust them. They speak of fighting for freedom, but all it takes to make them work for me is the promise of a large payment. You, on the other hand, are someone the Dutch government trusts." He said. Then, as if he had just remembered something, he reached for his pockets again, this time taking out a small bag of coins and tossing it onto the table. "I believe gold is the universal currency. Use it for bribes and such."

Alexander nodded and stood up, stuffing the letter into one of his coat pockets. He picked up the bag of coins and weighed it in his hand. Finding it satisfactory, he stuffed it into another one of his pockets. "I'll see what I can do." He said and turned around, walking towards the crowd. This was a simple enough job, all he had to do was just spread information. He could always just pin up the letter, but that would probably lead to chaos as various pirates fought among themselves to be the one to catch the French trade fleet.

No, he had to be discreet. He already had a person in mind, someone who would do anything for a bit of money. Someone who would be able to speak to various pirates in private.

Alexander walked over to the bar and shouted for the bartender. He waited until the man was directly in front of him before speaking. "Bring me Loosey Lucy. I've got a proposition for her."

Government: Friend or Foe?

Name: Mallory 'Mal' Cameron

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Faction: Special Response Initiative (Government counter-terrorism organization)

Area of Expertise: Heavy gunnery, demolitions, riot control

Personality: Friendly and warm-hearted, Mallory is the last person you would expect to be part of the elite SRI. A risk-taker with a strong moral compass, he doesn't hesitate to break or bend rules in order to do what he thinks is right.

Strengths:

- Explosives expert: To Mallory, the usage of explosives is an art form. He is a genius with any sort of explosives, be it rudimentary black powder bombs or advanced plastic explosives, knowing how to shape, prime and fire them in order to achieve maximum destructive efficiency with minimal collateral damage.
- Tactical planner: Although he is not a 'big picture' sort of person, he is capable enough to be trusted with leading small-scale operations where speed and success takes precedence over all other considerations.
- Chaotic Good: Does what is right. The rules can go screw themselves.
- Skilled and strong: Military-grade hand-to-hand training, coupled with his natural strength makes him a very dangerous and tough opponent in close quarters.

Weaknesses:

- Morally conflicted: While he works for the Government, he disagrees with them on some issues and has turned away more extreme missions before. This had earned him a black mark on his name, meaning that his chance of being promoted is incredibly slim. It also makes him a target for government surveillance.
- Go loud or go home: As a demolitions expert, he has very little experience in being stealthy. The missions which require finesse and clandestine work often relegates him to the backup, shit-hits-the-fan extraction squad.
- Chaotic Good: Has been caught breaking the rules before, but his otherwise spotless track record and high success rate has protected him from further investigation...So far.

Background: Mallory was, by all accounts, a very normal and very average child. He did not stand out from his peers at all and never pushed himself to do better than what was expected of him. Like his father before him, he joined the military once he was of age, but found himself transferred to the Special Response Initiative, where they thought his skill in close combat would be better used. For the first few years, he carried out his missions with enthusiasm, eagerly putting down resistance cells, capturing rebels and putting them in prison. However, as he interrogated more and more rebels, as well as entering the larger regional headquarters of various rebel groups, he began to see things from their point of view. He began to see just how the government, while meaning well, had long since overstepped its boundaries. It was this gradual exposure to the rebel ideals that opened his eyes, and made him decide that sometimes, the law is not always right.

As a squad-level commander, he tries his best to prevent his men from being too tough on captured rebels. He does his best to be as lenient as possible towards rebels who are merely speaking their mind, but he will also do his utmost to lock away those who use violent methods and harm innocent civilians. Mallory threads a very thin line between the government and the rebels, and only time will tell how that will work out for him.

Appearance: Mallory stands at a relatively tall height of 5'9", with dark brown hair and eyes of the same colour. His hair is kept short, as per SRI regulations. His slender build hides his true strength, and often he uses that to his advantage. He usual attire when on duty consists of his black, grey and white camouflage uniform, his maroon beret and a pair of steel-toe boots. When on a mission, he simply throws body armour and a load bearing vest over his usual clothes and swaps his beret for a combat helmet.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Zhenya nodded to Neil and reloaded his AN-94. The rifle chewed through ammunition fast and the last thing he wanted twas to be caught with an empty gun in a room clearing scenario. He made sure that it was in full-automatic mode before looking at Neil and nodding. "Ready?" He asked, but he knew that the question was rhetorical. Neil had better be ready, since anymore waiting and the enemy would probably figure out that something was about to happen. Zhenya took out a breaching charge - a squarish block that was little more than C4 shaped to explode in a certain direction - and planted it on the door.

"Clear!" He shouted, looked away from the door and pressed the detonator. The rickety door exploded inwards in a shower of wooden shrapnel. Beneath the loud boom of the blast, Zhenya heard the familiar sounds of people yelling in agony. Looks like there had been people waiting to exit the building, after all. "Go!" Zhenya shouted to Neil and motioned for him to enter the building first. He waited until the Australian was through the door before storming into the right-side room that was just behind the door. He went from corner to corner to make sure that he had swept every inch of the room before going through a door way which led into another room.

He spotted an enemy aiming an AK right at him and reacted without the slightest of hesitations.The AN-94's high rate of fire meant that two bullets struck the enemy in the chest within seconds of one another. The insurgent dropped to the ground, dead. "Rooms clear!" Zhenya reported as he went through another doorway leading back to the central corridor.

Government: Friend or Foe?

Argh, can't seem to come up with a good CS. ><'' Will get one up later.

Space Station Starting.

Eh, every RP has its slumps. It's only been a couple of days since the last post, that ain't too bad by my standards.