Spring RTS Engine

Yes. Yes I did.

I want one of those guns.

They are incredibly awesome.

Adams looked over his shoulder. The grey haired man ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼╦£Ian├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót moving. Adams looked back and walked back down the stairwell, smoking pistol in hand.

***

Galvern and Jones advanced, covering each other. Their spotlights and laser dots played upon the dank concrete walls. Up ahead a man in black, with long blue hair stood alone in the middle of the corridor. The two froze when they saw him. He was surprisingly tall, his hands in his coat pockets. He appeared to be staring at the floor, his back to them. His long blue hair was tied back in a thin ponytail.
Galvern and Jones advanced slowly, their weapons raised. They shut off the spotlights so that the man wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót see them. The laser dots fixed themselves on his back. The man straightened his back, as though listening to them. Jones and Galvern brought their pistols closer.
The man sighed, leaned to one side and removed an ear stud from his ear. He tossed it aside, where it landed with a wet slap in a puddle. He turned and smiled, as though tired. His blue hair was very long, his fringe actually falling down to his chin, covering parts of his face. A large bunch of hair covered one eye. He had a sharp, angular face.
His smile was disarming. There was something in it, and in his eyes, that said ├óÔé¼┼ôI am not your enemy├óÔé¼┬Ø. He chuckled, walking slowly towards them.
├óÔé¼┼ôCongratulations.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, with a shrug, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou├óÔé¼Ôäóve won.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jones and Galvern looked at him, confused.
├óÔé¼┼ôMontoya is dead├óÔé¼┬Ø He said helpfully.
Jones bristled, and gestured at him with his pistol. ├óÔé¼┼ôHalt! By order of the Imperial Inquisition, I am placing you under arrest!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI thought you might├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said calmly.
The two advanced towards him.
├óÔé¼┼ôDon├óÔé¼Ôäót worry├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said, smiling again, ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm unarmed, and I├óÔé¼Ôäóve surrendered├óÔé¼┬Ø
The pair reached him and lowered their pistols. They looked at him. He looked at them. At length, Jones thought it best to introduce each other.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm Alex Jones, of the TFC Fighter Cadre.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlison Galvern, TLA Sniper Division├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man smiled and offered a hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôJames Calliger. NCLF├óÔé¼┬Ø

***

Anders reached the main door just as the rest of Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós team burst in through it. They probably came very close to shooting them, but Anders, Abel and Tara all had the sense to not raise their weapons. The black-clad mercenary team stood there in surprise as Anders stared their leader down. The mercs stood down, and their leader took his helmet off. He had a sharp, grizzled face with stubble on his chin. He had thin, short iron grey hair and was lean and tall.
The two stared each other down. Abel, sensing what would probably happen next, nipped in between the two.
├óÔé¼┼ôKandell?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man looked at him
├óÔé¼┼ôTaylor├óÔé¼Ôäós wounded, back there├óÔé¼┬Ø Abel pointed.
The man ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ Kandell ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ looked surprised. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow bad?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôVery. She got smashed through a bookcase├óÔé¼┬Ø
Kandell winced
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich then fell on her├óÔé¼┬Ø
Kandell winced some more. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich way?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFollow me, sir├óÔé¼┬Ø
Kandell nodded and turned to his squad. ├óÔé¼┼ôMedical team, with me├óÔé¼┬Ø
Three of the squad nodded, hitching up their backpacks, which were presumably full of medical equipment. They set off, Abel and Kandell leading. Anders followed behind them, Tara at his side.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou alright?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø He looked down. Tara was watching him with genuine concern. He nodded. Then he noticed that his side wounds had opened again and he fell flat on his face.

Tara hoisted him up like she had in the corridor. She wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót going to let go of the pistol-thing any time soon. For some reason, it was keeping the pain back. She knew she was in a world of hurt eventually, like when Donnel had kicked it from her hand. She shooed the two medics away when they came to help. Abel spotted what was going on and hung back, to help hoist Anders up by the other side. The man was in a dead faint, for now.
They entered the library. Donnel had disappeared. Kandell rushed over to Taylor and put two fingers gently on her neck. He looked up, pleased.
├óÔé¼┼ôThere├óÔé¼Ôäós a pulse. She├óÔé¼Ôäós still alive├óÔé¼┬Ø
The three medics rushed over. One pulled a stretcher out of the other├óÔé¼Ôäós backpack and folded it out. The two pulled her free from the wrecked bookcase and hoisted her carefully onto the stretcher. The third was rummaging through his own backpack for medical equipment.
They lifted the stretcher and ran at a level jog ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ moving at speed without rocking the stretcher. Kandell looked at Penlan├óÔé¼Ôäós legs, and looked up to see her torso. He walked over and brushed some hair out of her face. He sat there in a crouch for a few seconds, in thought, before yanking her dog-tags off of her neck and pocketing them. He slid a hand into her top pocket and pulled out her papers, pocketing those too. He rose, brushed off and followed the stretcher team.
Abel ducked out from under Anders├óÔé¼Ôäó shoulder and walked over to Penlan├óÔé¼Ôäós torso. He picked up her helmet and clipped it onto his belt, next to his own. Then he walked over to the two halves of her plasma rifle. He picked those up too. He looked at them, then at her limp torso. He tucked them under his arm and followed after Kandell, leaving Tara to drag Anders.

***

Adams exited the apartment stack, the occupants withdrawing in fear when they saw him pass. His cloak billowing after him, his sword drawn and bloody, he walked out the exit. The occupants watched him leave in fear and awe. It was not often that one saw an agent of the Inquisition, and went they weren├óÔé¼Ôäót after you, it made some good gossip.
The skiff sat waiting, serenely floating above the ground, lights reflecting off it├óÔé¼Ôäós polished black coating. He walked up to it, grabbed the handrail and jumped up, over and into it, sliding easily into the seat. He moved to activate his ear stud, but found it missing. Evidently, it had fallen out of his ear. It would be impossible to find, and Inquisitorial ear studs could be remotely deactivated to avoid anyone untoward getting their hands on them. With a few keystrokes, Adams disabled his.
Lacking an ear stud, Adams had to use the skiff├óÔé¼Ôäós com systems. He typed in a target code and waited for an authentication from the other end. The system beeped
├óÔé¼┼ôJones here├óÔé¼┬Ø came a somewhat scratchy voice through the speakers.
├óÔé¼┼ôAdams.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm getting some interference├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre in an underground tunnel├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones explained. His voice was strangely quiet and scratchy. It was evidently getting quite distorted.
├óÔé¼┼ôMontoya is dead├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams began
├óÔé¼┼ôWe know├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams blinked. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLong story. We├óÔé¼Ôäóve apprehended Subject 2. His name is James Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood work. What are you doing in an underground tunnel?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLike I said, long story. Any word from Anders?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNothing yet. I think his ear stud is being jammed├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat├óÔé¼Ôäós what Sanderson thought. This tunnel appears to be leading into Orea. We don├óÔé¼Ôäót know where. Want us to follow it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones asked
├óÔé¼┼ôNo. We should help Anders first. Can you give me the co-ordinates for the Stormwind?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSure thing├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones said, before relaying the co-ordinates
├óÔé¼┼ôI should reach it in approximately 6-7 minutes├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRoget that.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams fired up the manoeuvre jets and raised the skiff, shooting up and over the Orea skyline.

***

Donnel watched them move down the hallway. She├óÔé¼Ôäód dragged herself, in quite intense pain, to where her gun had skittered off to when Anders had bashed her across the head. Having picked it up, and her sword, she├óÔé¼Ôäód escaped quite easily. That bastard would pay. He├óÔé¼Ôäód left her, in a world of pain, to die, instead of shooting her and putting her out her misery. The other woman with a pistol would too, the traitor.
She dropped down silently behind the two, gown flowing around her as she raised the pistol at the other woman├óÔé¼Ôäós back.

Tara heard Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós landing, and looked over her shoulder. Donnel fired as Tara ducked. The bolt shot through Tara├óÔé¼Ôäós hair, smashing through a wooden door and barely missing Abel. The mercs turned and adopted firing positions whilst allowing the medics with Taylor to pass. Spats of plasma hurtled forth and shot through nothing but air as Donnel jumped over them, jumping again off the wall, plasma bolts following after her. Instead of jumping off the other wall, she dived back down to the floor, rolling forwards with the impact.
The plasma bolts burned through walls, doors and furniture, but not through her. Abel managed to dive aside before Donnel could skewer him on her sword, forcing her into a spin.
Tara, having set Anders down as gently as she could, ran forwards and the mercs held their fire. Donnel turned as Tara leapt, landing a spinning kick across Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós head. Donnel spun, but came back with sword in hand. Tara dodged aside, and Donnel brought the sword up after her, forcing to Tara to drop to the floor. Donnel swung again and Tara kicked her hard in the gut, knocking her backwards and giving Tara enough room to leap back onto her feet
Donnel brought her pistol up and Tara kicked at it, hoping to knock it from her hand. Donnel dodged this easily and came around with her sword again, forcing Tara to duck beneath it. She dived forwards, tackling Donnel to the floor and leaping off in a somersault to avoid Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós counter. Tara skidded to a halt against a wall whilst the mercs took their opportunity to open fire again.
Donnel skidded away from their shots and lunged forwards at Tara again. Tara dodged and the sword bashed against the wall, gouging it slightly. Donnel swiped again and Tara ducked, the stroke cutting a flower vase in half. Tara punched her in the gut and Donnel kicked her back into the opposite wall. The mercs opened fire again but Donnel was already leaping forwards. Tara moved aside quickly and Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós swipe bisected a table.
Tara slid her second knife from it├óÔé¼Ôäós concealed sheath and blocked the next sword stroke, and the next, forcing Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós sword down to ground and kicking the user hard across the head. Donnel retaliated by bashing Tara in the side with the but of her pistol, sending Tara reeling. Donnel swung again, this time catching her.
Tara was caught off guard and tried to parry with the knife, but was too slow. The sword came down and cut off that hand. Tara screamed, and backed back, giving Donnel an opening to kick her again. Tara sailed away through the air, skidding up against Anders again.
Donnel charged as the mercs opened fire at her again. Tara brought her pistol up one-handed and fired again and again, Donnel dodging each one easy. Tara rolled away from Anders and up onto her feet as Donnel reached her, swinging her sword again. The sword managed to nick her, catching her in the side. Tara lashed out with her foot, tripping Donnel, who swung her sword at the exact same time, the end result being a large gash across the back of Tara├óÔé¼Ôäós thigh.
Unable to stand with a cut muscle, Tara collapsed to the floor, kicking Donnel in the head with her undamaged leg. Donnel took the blow and rolled aside. The mercs opened fire again, and this time Donnel chose to deal with them. Ducking, rolling and jumping, she dodged their fire. Kandell was the closest, so she went for him. Then Tara fired at her again, burning a hole through her coat.
Donnel turned and Kandell took the opportunity to jam the barrel of his gun up against the back of her head. Donnel spun, crouching and smashed him in the gut with her pistol, sending him flying into his mercs. Taking advantage of the resulting confusion. Donnel charged at Tara again. Tara fired, fired and fired again. Each shot missed, as Donnel dodged them. Donnel leapt high above her shots, coming back down with sword swinging.
There was a swish, a splat and the sound of a gun clattering to the floor.

***

Calliger walked in front, Jones and Galvern behind. He unnerved the two, and probably knew it too. He walked quickly, with his hands crossed behind his back. They├óÔé¼Ôäód tied his hands together with plastic wire to secure them, but he seemed capable of walking completely normally, his trenchcoat flowing about him as he walked. Galvern, still in walking-bush camouflage, was doing a semi-jog to keep up. Jones was walking faster than normal too, and was not looking too pleased about it.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre going back to the Stormwind, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø Galvern whispered
├óÔé¼┼ôI think so├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones whispered back
├óÔé¼┼ôIf your gunship is parked nearby the hut, then yes, we are├óÔé¼┬Ø said Calliger
Galvern winced.
The trio walked in silence for quite a while, boots clacking on the concrete floor.
├óÔé¼┼ôUhh├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones began, before Galvern trod solidly on his foot.
The trio walked in silence for quite a while longer, until they reached the stairway into the hut. Calliger gestured for them to go first when they reached the base of it. Galvern did, Jones didn├óÔé¼Ôäót, prodding Calliger into going second so that he would be between the two. Calliger did so, without appearing unhappy about it, giving Jones a smile as he went up, as though he├óÔé¼Ôäód expected them to do this. As a matter of fact, they would have positioned him between them, to lessen his chances of escape. It was standard DAC procedure. But how would Calliger know that?
As they ascended the stairs Calliger twitched his head suddenly. Galvern, being in front, didn├óÔé¼Ôäót spot this, but Jones did. It was though he was listening to something. It Jones a few moments to realise that Calliger was listening to a ear stud, though how he├óÔé¼Ôäód activated it, he didn├óÔé¼Ôäót know. Unless he├óÔé¼Ôäód had it on before they arrested him. Bugger. Why the hell didn├óÔé¼Ôäót they check for ├óÔé¼╦£studs?
Jones grabbed him by his tied hands and slammed him in against the wall putting his pistol to his forehead. Calliger smiled inquisitively and Galvern turned quickly in surprise, bring her gun up. Jones, one hand holding his pistol, pulled an ear stud from underneath Calliger├óÔé¼Ôäós hair and stamped on it, then shot it for good measure.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou never said you had an ear stud!├óÔé¼┬Ø He hissed
├óÔé¼┼ôYou never asked├óÔé¼┬Ø Calliger replied, plainly.
Jones pulled him back around so that he├óÔé¼Ôäód be walking up the stairs and pushed him up again. Galvern turned and hurried up too before Calliger tripped and fell on her. Calliger resumed his steady pace until they reached the hatch into the hut. Galvern opened it and moved to one side, holding it open whilst allowing Jones and Calliger to pass. Once Calliger had neared the top step he stopped, and turned slightly.
├óÔé¼┼ôBy the way, there├óÔé¼Ôäós an NCLF uprising in Orea you probably deal with.├óÔé¼┬Ø He walked up the last steps and to the closed door, waiting for one of them to open it for him. ├óÔé¼┼ôThought you might like to know├óÔé¼┬Ø

===============
PRODUCTION NOTES

Insurgency Division was postponed on account of a bad GCSE choice. I knew I should have taken RS instead. Why didn't I take RS? I wouldn't have to spend two days drawing and watercolouring a musical instrument turning into a tree if I'd taken RS...

word to the wise, don't take Art for GCSE. They don't teach you anything new, they just throw a workbook at you at leave you with it.

Eh on the Production Notes.

I want to know how to draw better, though, as drawing is fun but when my hand touches paper only vilness spews out.

Nice episode, by the way. quite quite nice

How often in your life / career do you think it will be important to draw clarinet turning into a tree?

Watercolouring it was fun though

├óÔé¼┼ôDealing with riots is the TLLA├óÔé¼Ôäós job, not ours.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones said, once they were outside. The silhouette of the Stormwind gunship was just visible through the blizzard. Calliger was walking surprisingly easily through the snow, despite having his hands bound behind his back.

├óÔé¼┼ôYes, but it├óÔé¼Ôäós the Inquisition├óÔé¼Ôäós job, or rather the Department of Armed Crime├óÔé¼Ôäós job, to round up the ringleaders.├óÔé¼┬Ø Calliger stated
├óÔé¼┼ôDon├óÔé¼Ôäót - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôEspecially if it├óÔé¼Ôäós an NCLF uprising├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShut it. Now.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Calliger did with a sigh, which went unheard due to the blizzard, which was now starting to die down a bit.
Galvern was smirking ├óÔé¼┼ôGood to know you know the principles of the job├óÔé¼┬Ø she whispered.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm a pilot, not a DAC agent├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones shot back.

Jones thumbed his ear stud.
├óÔé¼┼ôAdams?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôJones?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre getting reports from our captive of an insurgency rising in Orea. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm going to get Sanderson to verify this├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUnderstood. The TLLA here are mobilising for something. I was wondering what it was├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóll get Sanderson checking the TLLA channels, hold on.├óÔé¼┬Ø

He prodded his ear stud a few times.
├óÔé¼┼ôSanderson?├óÔé¼┬Ø
No response
├óÔé¼┼ôSanderson├óÔé¼┬ª?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Again, no response
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn it Sanderson, wake up!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBlergk!!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood afternoon to you too.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones said dryly. ├óÔé¼┼ôInsurgency Rising in Orea. Check the TLLA channels├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
The trio marched on a minute or so before Sanderson came back on the line.
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson began ├óÔé¼┼ôthere├óÔé¼Ôäós an uprising in Orea.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, we know that thank you. Any specifics?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAppears to have started in one of the industrial districts. A group of workers on strike for a while now. This is a proper uprising too. The TLLA are taking casualties. Insurgents are primarily armed with rifles and grenades. The TLLA have sent out their helicopter squadrons, and they├óÔé¼Ôäóve been playing merry havoc with them and you├óÔé¼Ôäód expect, however two have been taken down already. The TLLA currently suspect they have a mole somewhere. Oh and the insurgents are definitely NCLF├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYay. Adams, you get that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams confirmed. ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm heading to the TLLA headquarters now├óÔé¼┬Ø

***

The mercs recovered and opened fire again. Donnel dodged to the side, rolling away from Tara├óÔé¼Ôäós still twitching corpse and rebounding off a wall to charge them again. Then, out of the blue, a bullet rammed into her spine. Paralyzed, Donnel collapsed.

Anders lowered the silenced pistol and nearly fell over again. Abel ran over and supported him as he hobbled over to Donnel, who was spasming on the floor. Anders kicked her over onto her back, like he had before and looked at her. Abel took her sword and circle-pistol

├óÔé¼┼ôI warned you not to make me finish what was started. I gave you a chance. It├óÔé¼Ôäós a mistake I won├óÔé¼Ôäót be making again.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He shot her in the head and moved away.

He moved over to Tara. She was lying on her stomach. Donnel had decapitated her with a single stroke. He pulled her circle-pistol out from under her and looked around. Her identification and other effects would be in her overcoat, which he├óÔé¼Ôäód have to find. He looked at the circle-pistol, and suddenly realised he wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót hobbling any more.

├óÔé¼┼ôAbel├óÔé¼┬ª?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, they do that├óÔé¼┬Ø Abel confirmed. ├óÔé¼┼ôWatch.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Abel carefully put down the two halves of Penlan├óÔé¼Ôäós rifle and Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós sword, then walked over to the stretcher bearers with Taylor, who were watching the whole thing in shock. He carefully slid Donnel├óÔé¼Ôäós pistol into Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós hand.

├óÔé¼┼ôAck!├óÔé¼┬Ø
She jumped up suddenly into a sitting position, making the medics drop the stretcher in surprise. The resulting fall knocked the pistol out of her hand and she keeled over with a groan. Abel kicked the pistol back towards her. She grabbed at it and got onto her feet.

├óÔé¼┼ôOw.├óÔé¼┬Ø She said at length ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat happened?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She looked around. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis isn├óÔé¼Ôäót the library├óÔé¼┬Ø
She looked around some more ├óÔé¼┼ôOh, hello Kandell├óÔé¼┬ª and everyone else├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
She paused for a moment. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy are you all staring at me like that?├óÔé¼┬Ø

***

Adams flew his commandeered TLLA skiff back into the parking lots. He didn├óÔé¼Ôäót know which were empty and which were in use, but with the arbiters being mobilised, it was a fair bet that most would be empty. The first pen he checked was clear, so he parked there.

The doors hissed open with a flash of his Inquisitorial Badge. Talbert was waiting for him. He didn├óÔé¼Ôäót look too happy.
├óÔé¼┼ôCare to explain why you commandeered one of our skiffs, ├óÔé¼╦£requested├óÔé¼Ôäó access to our scanner feeds, led a high speed chase in a heavily populated area that caused large amounts of collateral damage and probably jump-started this insurgency?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLater. For now, lets concentrate on putting down this ├óÔé¼╦£insurgency├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut dealing with riots is the TLLA├óÔé¼Ôäós job - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ô - Whilst the ringleaders and cleanup fall under the jurisdiction of the DAC├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut you can├óÔé¼Ôäót - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôArbiter Talbert, there is a reason the DAC is also known as the ├óÔé¼╦£Insurgency Division├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlright, fine. Follow me.├óÔé¼┬Ø

They walked to a lift, which Talbert used to take them to one of the higher levels. They were heading for the Situation Centre, Adams knew. SitCen was, essentially, a war room.

It had a hololithic map of Orea, which showed the positions of the TLLA Arbiters and their relevant support units ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the ground cars (the TLLA did use them. ├óÔé¼╦£Cars├óÔé¼Ôäó was an understatement ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ they were great hulking tanks with giant snow-plows to allow them to push through the snow), the skiffs, the helicopters. The scanners were not on the map, there being so many out at the moment that they├óÔé¼Ôäód cloud over the map. The places were scanners had been destroyed or disabled were, however, shown with an icon.

The arbiters were represented with the usual black circle containing a white cross. The helicopters were actual 3d models flying over the map, also black. Skiffs and ground cars had the same icons as the arbiters, except with black boxes instead of circles. Identified insurgents were red crosshairs, their skiffs being red dots. Ordinary people were white dots, their skiffs white squares and large inter-planetary craft were represented by a simple 3d model that applied to them all, and was also white. The 3d model of the cityscape was coloured green and was slightly transparent.

The map was a mess. A big blotch of red, like a bleeding wound, covered the upper right corner of the map. A residential district and an industrial district had been taken over entire. The black shapes of the TLLA helicopters were scooting around above it. A pincer of ground cars and skiffs started to move in on the residential sector, with arbiters flocking about, going through and clearing out the buildings.

Around the map were walls of monitors and consoles. TLLA operators were running around, back and forth, trying to co-ordinate the efforts of their arbiters. The TLLA High Arbiter, a man named Owens, stood overlooking the map. He wore a very thick overcoat, with various badges of office, pistol holsters and communications equipment attached to it, making him look like a great hulking thing with a head. He had balding grey hair, and had been woken up about five minutes previously. A steaming cup of caffeine dangled in one of his hands. He looked up as they entered.

├óÔé¼┼ôNo civilians on this level!├óÔé¼┬Ø He barked.
├óÔé¼┼ôI am Investigator Galliger Adams of the Inquisitorial Department of Armed Crime. I am not a civilian├óÔé¼┬Ø
Talbert winced. Owens looks rather disgruntled, as though he├óÔé¼Ôäód rather Adams was a civilian so that he could kick him out, and went back to pouring over the holo-map. Talbert and Adams watched the map as well, for a minute or two, trying to make sense of the mass of information. Putting it mildly, it wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót going too well.

├óÔé¼┼ôHave you started interrogating prisoners?├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams asked
├óÔé¼┼ôYes. But there├óÔé¼Ôäós a lot of them. IntSec is getting pretty crowded├óÔé¼┬Ø
That was the good thing about the way the TLLA enforced the law. They did it in a way that those on the receiving end would live to tell the tale. The hulking ground cars could only kill you if they ran over you, they were primarily giant APCs with large numbers of pintle-mounted dart guns and heavy machine guns filled with rubber bullets. The TLLA was quite possibly the only organisation that really could shoot first and ask questions later. Of course, in such close fighting, and the fact that the insurgents├óÔé¼Ôäó weapons didn├óÔé¼Ôäót shoot sedative darts, causalities on both sides were mounting up.

├óÔé¼┼ôAny leads on the ringleaders?├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams asked
├óÔé¼┼ôSome. Over here├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert walked away from the holo-map and over to a case board. It was, basically, a very large holographic plate. The mug-shots of several men and women were shown upon it, with incident notes and files and comments from AdSec littered on, linked by arrows. A holographical mind-map of the case as it unfolded. Police forces had always used a system similar to this. It made it easier to figure things out and connect the dots.

Talbert walked up to it and waited for Adams to walk up alongside him.
├óÔé¼┼ôRecognise anyone?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked.
Adams looked at the mug-shots. He did indeed recognise one.
├óÔé¼┼ôThat man with the grey hair, he was with Montoya at the time of her execution.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôDr. Ian Calliger. Doctorate in Archaeology, the University of Roma, in 44-41. Was seen several times with your errant Lady on many different occasions and many different worlds. He has also been seen with this man├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert gestured to a somewhat blurred shot of a man in a dusty-tan trenchcoat with long blue hair tied back in a pony tail. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat is his brother, James Calliger. He - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe have him in custody.├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams interrupted. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy people should be flying him here soon├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh. Good. We├óÔé¼Ôäóve been looking for him. As far as we can tell, Ian Calliger and Montoya were lovers.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is Dr Calliger now?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean Ian?├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert asked
├óÔé¼┼ôJames Calliger is not a doctor, is he?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo. He appears to have worked alongside his brother on archaeological digs. No qualifications as far as we can tell. We haven├óÔé¼Ôäót found anything on him, really. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm sorry Investigator, a lot of this information is stuff we├óÔé¼Ôäóve gotten in the last half hour. AdSec is still cross-referencing and searching for details.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI understand. Carry on├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAs I was saying, Dr. Calliger and Montoya were in a relationship. Both romantic and professional: Dr. Calliger and his brother took several contracts for Montoya, often taking them off-world. What they were up to I don├óÔé¼Ôäót know, you├óÔé¼Ôäód have to ask them. We think, for the most part, it involved shipping illegal weapons over here, mixed in archaeological stuff. The Montoya family has always had quite a large collection of this stuff. As a House, they├óÔé¼Ôäóre very interested in the past. Anyway, They├óÔé¼Ôäóve shipping this stuff to the mansion you├óÔé¼Ôäóve raided, and sent in to their friends over here. We├óÔé¼Ôäóre not sure how, there├óÔé¼Ôäós very little air traffic between the mansion and the city, and the monorail is only used for special occasions.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Adams nodded for Talbert to continue.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe people these weapons have been sent to appear have sent up an underground network. Chances are they have people in the TLLA too. We├óÔé¼Ôäóve been - ├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert was cut off mid-speech by a three beep warning tone. An area of the holo-map was highlighted with a flashing red arrow coming down to point at one of the insurgent icons.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey├óÔé¼Ôäóve found one of the ring-leaders!├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert explained, before running over to the map.

The map was mounted on a table with holo-projectors mounted on it├óÔé¼Ôäós surface. Ports at the side allowed users to pull up another, smaller version of the holo-map that they could zoom in on, allowing multiple users to view areas of interest in detail completely independently. Talbert nabbed a free port and brought up the map, zooming in on the area the arrow pointed to. As it zoomed in, the icons were replaced by photographs of the actual people, with information such as name and ID displayed next to it. The arrow pointed to a man named Adam Furrows, who├óÔé¼Ôäód been identified by a scanner before it got shot down.

├óÔé¼┼ôMr Furrows has a long list of offences, but has been in hiding for quite a while. We think he├óÔé¼Ôäós been storing the weapons these NCLF insurgents are using. We did have two informants, courtesy of the Law and Information Bureau.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Like the Inquisition, the TLLA had been divided into sections relating to different parts of it├óÔé¼Ôäós mission statement. The Law and Information Bureau was one such section, responsible for the investigation of crime. They worked closely alongside the IIA, their counterpart in the Inquisition
├óÔé¼┼ôHowever, he managed to find them both out. We lost contact with them a while ago, and had been unable to find him since.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy is he coming out of hiding now?├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams asked
├óÔé¼┼ôHe├óÔé¼Ôäós not. We were just lucky ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ an intact scanner in just the right place. Hold on, I├óÔé¼Ôäóll get a description.├óÔé¼┬Ø

He typed away at a console next to the port and the small holo-map was replaced with Adam Furrows├óÔé¼Ôäó file. A few more keystrokes and Talbert replaced the mug-shot with the picture the scanner had caught.

It showed a man, tall, in civilian clothing ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ a dirty blue top and trousers. It looked like a worker uniform of some sort. The man was thin and wiry, with a bony face and stubble. His hair was in need of cutting and was the colour of rusted iron. He was looking up in surprise at the camera, pistol in hand and on the move.

├óÔé¼┼ôHow old is that picture?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLess than a minute. I call up the search radius.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The port went back to showing the map. A blue circle was now expanding from the red cross-hair icon where Furrows had been spotted, estimating the distance the insurgent could have moved since they'd gotten an ID.
├óÔé¼┼ôSubject running ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ is it me or does he look drunk?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Adams brought the scanner├óÔé¼Ôäós image up next to the map, and zoomed in on it. ├óÔé¼┼ôI can├óÔé¼Ôäót say├óÔé¼┬ª hold on, I├óÔé¼Ôäóll try to see what uniform that is.├óÔé¼┬Ø He zoomed in a bit more on the dirty blue top, were a label could be seen. ├óÔé¼┼ôOscard corporation, one of their factories.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOscard makes skiffs, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert asked
├óÔé¼┼ôOnly here on Orea.├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams corrected, ├óÔé¼┼ôThey one of the big corporations. They make and sell everything that can get them a profit├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóll check if the scanner got a pheromone trace, then we├óÔé¼Ôäód know for sure.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert typed away for a few moments.
├óÔé¼┼ôNothing. Too far away. Look, Investigator, if you are intending to hunt this man down, you need to go now, before he gets too far away. Take one our one-man bikes, it├óÔé¼Ôäóll be quicker├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôKeep me appraised of the situation├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWill do├óÔé¼┬Ø

Adams exited the Situation Centre and headed for the lifts.

***

├óÔé¼┼ôPlease stop staring at me├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor asked in a whisper
Kandell blinked, as though breaking out of a trance. ├óÔé¼┼ôSorry,├óÔé¼┬Ø The mercs did the same.

├óÔé¼┼ôWe need to go, now├óÔé¼┬Ø Kandell explained. ├óÔé¼┼ôYour associates aboard the Fleet Cruiser ├óÔé¼╦£Vengeance├óÔé¼Ôäó have apparently been trying to contact you and your Investigator for some time. An NCLF fleet is approaching├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders nodded. Taylor brushed dust off of her uniform and looked at the pistol-thing. It faintly glowing blue.

├óÔé¼┼ôSquad, with me. We├óÔé¼Ôäóre heading for the Falcra├óÔé¼┬Ø
She moved off, with her squad moving up alongside her at a brisk run.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós ├óÔé¼╦£The Falcra├óÔé¼Ôäó?├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders asked
├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós our drop ship├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor explained simply, ├óÔé¼┼ôNow follow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
They were moving through the mansion, heading for the pads. Anders remembered the matt-black ship, shaped like a diving falcon, parked there, dwarfing all the other ships that had been there.

***

Jones, Galvern and Calliger reached the Stormwind. The rear hatch was open. Sanderson, who must have seen them coming, clambered down it and gestured them in.

├óÔé¼┼ôCome on! Adams needs our help - ├óÔé¼┬Ø Calliger ran up the ramp, hands still bound behind him, and stopped in front of Sanderson. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho are you?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked
├óÔé¼┼ôJames Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDo I know you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDoubt it. Excuse me├óÔé¼┬Ø

Calliger moved past him and looked for somewhere to sit. Jones and Galvern came up after him, Jones taking his usual seat, whilst Galvern removed Calliger├óÔé¼Ôäós plastic tie, pushed him into a chair and strapped him in, getting a pair of proper, metal locks and cuffing his hand to the armrest. Then she took the co-pilot seat as Jones closed the rear hatch.

├óÔé¼┼ôAre we doing the checklist this time?├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson asked
├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones replied

The Stormwind├óÔé¼Ôäós launch jets fired up, melting the snow around it and pushing the gunship into the air. Jones flicked a few switches and the main engines flared up and shot the gunship forwards. Jones banked the ship in a wide, graceful arc and flew over Orea├óÔé¼Ôäós walls.

===========================
PRODUCTION NOTES

Random info:

- Insurgency Division Mk4 is currently 70 pages long
- Insurgency Division Mk3 is 23 pages long
- Insurgency Division Mk2 is 47 pages long
- Insurgency Division Mk1 got deleted for being crap (so I don't know how pages were used up)

Also: I tried to go and buy Serenity and Minority Report on DVD. I couldn't find a copy of Minority Report and I wasn't allowed to buy Serenity because I don't look 15 (Note: I am actually 15). Thanks to a shopping website I use, I can get both of them for cheaper, and they are actually in stock. Go internets!

Welcome to the House of Fun!

I have just seen Serenity, and it is awesome.

That is all.

My three fav bits. Those parts are for the win. They need to bring Firefly back, somehow. I'm not sure how, but they need to!



"I am a leaf on the wind!"

"What dose that mean!"


"Do you really think anyone might survive this?'

"...I might"


"Do you want to run this ship?"

"Yes!"

"...well...you...can't"

I like the chit-chat at the beginning.

(Following curtesy of Wikiquote)
Mal: What was that?
Wash: Did you see that?
Mal: Was that the primary buffer panel?
Wash: It did seem to resemble├óÔé¼ÔÇØ
Mal: Did the primary buffer panel just fall off my gorram ship for no apparent reason?
[Serenity shudders.]
Wash: Looks like.
Mal: I thought Kaylee just checked the entry couplings. I have a very clear memory of it!
Wash: Yeah well, if she doesn't give us some extra flow from the engine room to offset the burn-through, this landing is going to get pretty interesting.
Mal: Define interesting!
Wash: [deadpan] "Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die"?
Mal: [on the ship intercom] This is the captain, we have a lil' problem with our entry sequence, so we may experience some slight├óÔé¼┬ª turbulence, and then├óÔé¼┬ª explode. [to Wash] Can you shave the vector?
Wash: I'm doing it! It's not enough.
Mal: Just get us on the ground!
Wash: That part will happen pretty definitely.

Explode?

I don't wanna explode!

Adams didn├óÔé¼Ôäót particularly like his new mode of transportation. Talbert├óÔé¼Ôäós ├óÔé¼╦£One-man skiff├óÔé¼Ôäó was, basically, a seat with a steering bar and grav-skiff engines. It could easily be shot down. I provided no protection. Though it was small, and it certainly was fast. And speed, in this situation, did matter.

He had left the TLLA headquarters about a minute ago. The bike was surprisingly easily to control. The handlebars doubled as a control stick ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ spin them to the right, the bike went right. You altered pitch by leaning backwards and forwards. Speed was gauged by how hard you pushed on the acceleration.

The city was a mess, just like the TLLA├óÔé¼Ôäós map. Fires were raging and helicopters were droning over the blocks, spraying rubber bullets and firing tear gas canisters at the crowds below. Insurgents with RPGs fired back, but a combination of good piloting skills and ECMs stopped any of them getting through.

Adams brought the bike lower, flying over the rooftops of the residential sector. Below him, street battles raged. He attracted some fire himself, probably from both sides, but it was light. Orange plumes bellowed from buildings, rockets arced though the air, trailing smoke, tracers chattered back and forth.

He prodded his ear stud. ├óÔé¼┼ôTalbert? Talk to me├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe├óÔé¼Ôäós still in the building we caught him in. Just down the block. Big tall one, upper levels are reportedly on fire.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams spotted it. Whoever reported the fire was correct, the building was indeed on fire. It was old and derelict, it├óÔé¼Ôäós windows boarded with corkboard (which also burned quite spectacularly). Adams flew in through an open window.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhich floor?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked
├óÔé¼┼ôWe snapped him on level 6. He could have moved floors by now├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCopy that├óÔé¼┬Ø
Each ├óÔé¼╦£level├óÔé¼Ôäó was several stories high, being tall workplaces. Dangling chains and burnt out lamps adorned the ceiling whilst scattered piles of smashed and broken machinery, along with a thick layer of dust, covered the floor. Inside the building, the sounds of battle outside where strangely subdued. The ancient silence of the place was somehow preserved. Adams decided to stay on the bike.

He flew it over the top of the debris, looking for movement. There was nothing on this level. He wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót even sure which level he was on. In large fading letters on one of the longer sides of the floor walls was stencilled ├óÔé¼╦£09├óÔé¼Ôäó. Three floors down, Furrows should be on the run. One or two above and the building was on fire.

He looked for, and found, a large stairway. Half of it was blocked up lengthways by a fallen girder from the ceiling. He dropped the bike down went to the level below. The stairs formed an open case down to the next floor. This floor was as tall and wretched as the one above. This one had several holes in it├óÔé¼Ôäós floor that allowed Adams access the floor below. Several dusty, rusted cranes adorned the ceiling and floor. Adams dropped down again into the next level down.

The next one was dark. The previous two had had several holes in the wall and broken windows, allowing faint light into the rooms. This one didn├óÔé¼Ôäót. A spotlight was mounted on the underneath the nose of the bike. Adams turned this on now, showing a thin spear of light that ran over the rubble. A faint glow was emitting from several holes in the ground. Adams flew over to this and dropped down one.

This level, were Furrows had been spotted, seemed to inhabited by the homeless. The light came from several barrels full of various fuels that were being burnt to provide light and heat. The homeless people ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ who didn├óÔé¼Ôäót officially exist ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ were clothed in masses of rags and fled when Adams descended.

├óÔé¼┼ôTalbert?├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams whispered into his ear stud, whilst turning off the searchlight with the flick of a switch ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm on level 6├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCopy that. I take it you├óÔé¼Ôäóve checked the levels above?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, I know├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert replied
├óÔé¼┼ôPardon?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóve spotted a gunship flying into the city. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm assuming it├óÔé¼Ôäós yours├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt is. Tell them to land at your HQ. They├óÔé¼Ôäóre carrying James Calliger prisoner aboard├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood. According to our map, Furrows is somewhere between level 6 and 3 by now.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThank you├óÔé¼┬Ø

Adams looked over the debris-strewn floor, and turned on the spotlight again so that he could shine light into the dark shadows. This floor was clear, asides from the homeless people, who├óÔé¼Ôäód done a very good job of melding into their surroundings.

This floor was empty. Adams had expected as much. A sudden thought struck him, and he checked the case mounted on the back behind the seat. He pulled out a dart-pistol with five clips. Good. Each clip contained five shots, and the gun was already loaded, with a dart chambered and five still in the clip, so thirty-one shots in all. He could neutralise Furrows easily.

He looked for another way down, and found another fire-escape like stairway. The next floor was pretty much the same as the one above, except this time, Adams got shot at. Almost as soon as he├óÔé¼Ôäód dropped down into that level, a rickety sounding rifle started up, and luckily for Adams, very inaccurately. Adams put on a spurt of speed to scoot away from the bullets and flew down, dive-bombing whilst unhooking his pistol from his belt.

Two shots and the shooter fell down, grasping at his shattered and bleeding kneecaps. Adams swooped back, to get a better look. It wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót Furrows. The man tried to go for gun again, so Adams shot him in the head. This level looked clear. Adams went back up to the ceiling to get a better view and confirmed it.

He dived through another hole, expecting another hail of fire. He was not disappointed. He zipped to one side, weaving and dodging and swerving in random directions, throwing off their aim. There were five. Three men, two women. Adams unhooked both his pistol and the dart-gun and dropped to the floor, incapable of dual-wielding and flying a bike at the same time. Besides. No real cover in the air.

He moved stealthily and quickly, both pistols raised and ready, merging in and out of the debris and floating dust. Three men, two women. Furrows was not a woman, so fire-lethals for those. Three men. Oscard factory uniform, blue. Stubbly hair and beard, rust. Probably armed. Non-lethals for him.

In keeping with hunting protocols, both pistols were silenced. His lights turned off entire. His soles made no noise and his sword was with the bike. Close combat would be too noisy. He slid through the maze of junk like a ghost, choosing every place he put his foot with delicate care. Adams was not of a light build.

Ahead a man. Wearing a hoodie, black. Pale yellow trousers, material. Handgun. Tall. His back to Adams. Adams moved quickly and quietly behind him, and shot a non-lethal through the hood. The man gasped silently and fell into a pile of scrap with a heavy clang. Adams moved up, still quiet, and checked the body. Blonde. Clean shaven. Not Furrows. Adams shot him with the silenced pistol. Two to the chest. One to the head.

He heard movement. Clattering. Moving scrap metal on more moving scrap metal. He moved aside into the shadows as a woman, hooded and cloaked dropped down. She was alone. No other accompanying sounds of followers. One to the head.

Adams moved out into a sort of cavern, a rough dome formed by husks of old Skiffs, their innards stolen years ago to be sold on. Running footsteps. Three men? That didn├óÔé¼Ôäót add up. Evidently more had entered the scene. Adams let them pass and moved out of the darkness behind them. They found the bodies and stooped.

One was dark skinned, wearing yellow work clothes of road maintenance, a job that no longer had a purpose now that the Winter Season had descended. The one in the middle was wearing blotchy-brown clothes too big for him. The last was thin and wiry, and head shorter than the others, glasses. Looked a bit like Furrows.

The three collapsed suddenly and Adams moved forwards. The road worker and blotchy-brown lay face down, bleeding with bullets in the back of their heads. Possible Furrows lay flat with a dart in his neck. Adams kicked him onto his side to see his face. Not Furrows. One to the head.
He moved back into the dome. Four entrances or exits. One ascending upwards onto the tops of the scrap piles, to the West. One heading North, and another West. The one Adams had come in through was South.

Movement. North. Adams sprinted forwards quickly and darted into cover.
Female. Long hair. Two to the chest, one to the head. Reload. Move on.
Bullet check. Pistol, three clips, eight rounds each, just reloaded. Dart-gun, five clips. 4 darts loaded.

He moved on and heard voices. He slinked back into the shadows to listen.
Male, deep voice, hoarse. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Female, light and quiet ├óÔé¼┼ôNot sure├óÔé¼┬Ø
Another female, louder, deeper, possibly intoxicated ├óÔé¼┼ôSome bastards after Furrows. And we after the bastard├óÔé¼┬Ø
Male again ├óÔé¼┼ôKeep it down, would you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Drunk female giggled. Quiet female shushed her
Quiet female, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhere├óÔé¼Ôäós Adam anyway?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Male ├óÔé¼┼ôBack there├óÔé¼┬Ø
Furrows was back down the path he was on. Good.
Quiet female, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy are going this way├óÔé¼┬Ø
Male, ├óÔé¼┼ôI heard something├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø

The three walked around the corner and into view, illuminated from a beam of sunlight through dusty windows. Quiet female was hunched over an old rifle. Drunk female really was drunk ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the fool ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and armed solely with an old bat with nails rammed into it. Male was armed with a six-shooter, not Furrows.

Adams walked out, pretending to clutch his side, gasping for breath as though wounded.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø Male called out
Adams coughed. ├óÔé¼┼ôBack there. He├óÔé¼Ôäós unstoppable!├óÔé¼┬Ø
He gestured back down the path he├óÔé¼Ôäód travelled down and fell against a wall of scrap metal. The male nodded and hurried down where he├óÔé¼Ôäód pointed. Drunk female did a mock salute. Quiet female gave him a funny look as she passed.

He let them go a while before stepping out again. He raised the pistol and gauged the distance. Two to the chest, too far for a head. Male went first, followed by quiet female. Drunk female looked rather bemused before she too collapsed with two bullets having pierced a heart and a lung.
He travelled on down their pathway. A sort of camp had been erected, which from the air had simply looked a large pile of scrap. A radio could be heard, in fact, several. Some played music, others feeds from other insurgents.

Two guards were looking rather nervous, standing by that entrance. They hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót seen him. He backtracked into the dome and headed out the West exit up onto the scrap piles. He stole across it, flat to the floor. They├óÔé¼Ôäód layered the tops with sheets of old iron, to allow for a better walkway. He slid over it and silent as he could until he reached the guarded entrance. Women and children, civilians and unarmed, moved between huts with darting movement, travelling quickly in fear.

He dropped down and landed quietly, leaving the guards be. He moved up quickly to the back of a hut, staying crouched below the windows and moved along, keeping to shadows. A band of 14 people ran from a building and out the exit, presumably after him. That building was large and tall, clearly a place of importance. Adams headed for that.

***

├óÔé¼┼ôThis is the Falcra?├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders asked
├óÔé¼┼ôThis is the Falcra├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor confirmed
The two were clutching their pistol-things to ensure that their injuries didn├óÔé¼Ôäót overtake them again. They were standing on one of the pads ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ in the snow ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ looking at the black ship.
├óÔé¼┼ôIt looks smaller up close├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders muttered. Taylor didn├óÔé¼Ôäót hear him and ran up to the rear hatch.

On closer inspection, the Falcra looked to be a very heavily modified Lightning Dropship. Plasma-based weapons were mounted into the claws, and missile banks were held under the nose. A bomb bay was visible on the underside. At the rear was an entry hatch, which Taylor was knocking on now.

Having whispered something into the ship intercom, Taylor stepped back as the rear hatch descended. The squad hurried inside, taking the stretcher to the medical bay.

As a heavily converted Lightning (where they├óÔé¼Ôäód got it from, Anders decided not to ask), the Falcra had three levels. The lowest, which had the rear hatch, was simply a holding area for troops and equipment during a drop. The next level above contained housing and other such amenities for those aboard, including a ------- and a (rather small) medical suite. Not to mention sleeping areas as well. The upper deck had communications, fire control and cockpit ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ all the stuff that made the Falcra fly, engines included.

The stretcher bearers rushed away to the lifts and the rest of the mercs spread out to their footlockers to dispose of their equipment. Two female mercs, dressed in black like the others, but without the armour ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ just material tops and trousers, slid down a ladder from the upper deck. Helmets that would entirely cover their heads when worn were clipped to their belts.

The two women landed with practised ease and walked up to Taylor, clearly old friends. They were identical, both the same height, hair colour (blonde) and disposition. The only difference between them was hair length ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ one had their├óÔé¼Ôäós short, the other quite long, down to her thigh.
Taylor walked to them.

├óÔé¼┼ôSarah, Nove!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm Sarah, that├óÔé¼Ôäós Nove├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo, you├óÔé¼Ôäóre Nove, that├óÔé¼Ôäós Sarah├óÔé¼┬Ø
All three laughed
├óÔé¼┼ôHow do you always know?├óÔé¼┬Ø Nove asked
├óÔé¼┼ôSarah├óÔé¼Ôäós prettier├óÔé¼┬Ø Kandell replied, walking up to them to stand by Taylor. ├óÔé¼┼ôI see you├óÔé¼Ôäóve switched hairstyles again?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYep!├óÔé¼┬Ø

Nove, or Sarah, one of the two, looked over Kandell├óÔé¼Ôäós shoulder at Anders, who was leaning against the wall, looking at the pistol-thing in his hand and not paying them any heed. He looked a mess, to say the least. His cloak was ragged and torn, his hair plastered with sweat and bloody was smeared across his face. She nodded at him ├óÔé¼┼ôWho├óÔé¼Ôäós that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Kandell looked over his shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes,├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, turning to Taylor, ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is that?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Taylor looked around. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat would be Anders. He├óÔé¼Ôäós with the Inquisition.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Nove and Sarah raised their eyebrows. Then Sarah spotting his wounds. ├óÔé¼┼ôHoly crap├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
She walked over to him. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou okay there?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders looked up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes, thank you├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou should probably get looked at, it looks nasty├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYour side?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, yes. Yes I should, thank you├óÔé¼┬Ø

He hurried past her to the lift at a brisk jog. Sarah returned to Nove, Taylor and Kandell. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe seems rather distracted.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Taylor sighed, and looked at her own pistol-thing. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós these damn pistol├óÔé¼┬ª things├óÔé¼┬Ø She turned it over to get a good look at it and her arm suddenly flopped away unnaturally. Nove, Sarah and Kandell stared

├óÔé¼┼ôUh, is your arm dislocated?├óÔé¼┬Ø Nove (or Sarah) asked
Taylor looked at the arm. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes. Yes it is. Excuse me├óÔé¼┬Ø She ran past them to get to the medical station.
Sarah, Nove and Kandell watched her leave.
├óÔé¼┼ôKandell, what├óÔé¼Ôäós - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI don├óÔé¼Ôäót know├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø

***

A sort of ladder ran up the back of it. He slipped around the back of the structure and ascended onto the roof. The ├óÔé¼╦£roof├óÔé¼Ôäó was a mass of wire mesh and metal plates. He could see through the mesh into the rooms below. A group of people, around nine, were asleep. Their weapons were cached in the middle. If it came to gunfight, they├óÔé¼Ôäód awake and join in. Through a suitably sized gap, Adams dropped a remote grenade down into the room. It hit a carpet without a sound.

He clambered on over the top of the building, as silent as he could. A toilet, empty. A room full of data sticks that Adams thought he should collect if possible. Another sleeping camber with another dozen or so people. Another remote bomb went into there.

He found a hole large enough to slip through with the minimum of noise and dropped down into an armoury. As an afterthought, he dropped another remote grenade in here too, stuffing it under some explosives. He checked and readied both the pistol and the dart gun and moved out into a hallway.

Empty and clear, with some snores from one of the sleeping halls. The hallway branched in two directions ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the door he├óÔé¼Ôäód gone through opened into a 90-degree corner. The longer of the two branches had the sleeping rooms, so Adams took the other. He checked the rooms opening into the corridor with a fiber-op ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ a tiny camera on a flexible wire he could slide under doors to see inside a room. They were clear and empty too, bedrooms and store cupboards. He moved on.

The corridor turned again to some stairs. Voices could be heard below. Adams slid against the wall to listen.
├óÔé¼┼ôOur patrols have just found bodies├óÔé¼┬Ø a male voice, light and whispering
├óÔé¼┼ôBodies?├óÔé¼┬Ø Female, also whispering
├óÔé¼┼ôUh-huh. Several too. Professional kills too. They think they├óÔé¼Ôäóve snuck a Storm Trooper squad in├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat!├óÔé¼┬Ø The female was raising her voice ├óÔé¼┼ôThen why are we still here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFurrows just needs a bit more time├óÔé¼┬Ø the male replied, trying to hush her. So the man evidently wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót the one he was after.
The female was panicking now. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóve got to get out of here├óÔé¼┬Ø

There was the sound of a tussle. Adams guessed that the male was trying to restrain the other. He stepped around the corner and shot them both.
Adams moved on. He was on the first floor now, so he looked for another set of stairs. There were none in this room, so he went for the nearest door and slid the fiber-op under it. Corridor, a male was leaning a wall and smoking something. Adams slid the op back out again and went to the other door. Store cupboard. Damn. He went back to the other door and rested against it. It moved immediately ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ it was a push door, as Adams had just discovered.

He shot straight through and landed hard with a very loud crash on his side, pistols flying from his hands. The smoking male coughed and tossed his cigar away, reaching for a weapon at his hip. Adams rolled and grabbed a pistol ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ which one he wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót sure ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ as the male fired, the gun making a loud bark and smashing a hole through the floor. Adams shot back, two to the chest, and one to the head. The noise woke up the entire building. Shouts and screams echoed. Adams grabbed the other pistol ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the dart gun, as it turned out and ran down the corridor, caution to the wind.

He smashed through the door at the opposite end, knocking someone on the other side flying. He reached a stairwell, shot someone coming up it and ran into another room. Then he pressed the remote activator for the grenades he├óÔé¼Ôäód planted.

The entire building shook, sending loose panels flying down off their mounts. Screams erupted everywhere ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ there was an incredible amount of noise, and dust too. He could barely see. He coughed a few times, his augmented lungs working hard to compensate. He ran on as someone on fire fell down the stairs he├óÔé¼Ôäód just descended.

He reached a door and kicked it open. The dust that was following him billowed into it, blinding the occupants. Unable to identify anyone in the split-second he had, he shot them all with the dart-gun, emptying the clip. There were four. Two women, two men. They were sitting around a table, and had been playing cards prior to his interruption.

Adams ran past, reloading the dart pistol, and found another set of stairs ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ presumably into a basement area of sort ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and ran down them. As he reached their base, a man in blue bashed through the door. Recognising him instantly, Adams darted him, and Furrows fell flat on his face. Three men and a woman had followed him, with guns. Adams shot them down.

==================
PRODUCTION BLOATS

I snuck a Serenity reference in there. See if you can spot it!

The Stormwind skyrocketed. The whole world had gone mad. NCLF ships had taken to the air and starting shooting at anything showing TCA authority. You know, like a great big gunship does. The TLLA were shooting back with flak and lasers of course, and between them and the NCLF, this made a withering crossfire that they had to cross to reach the HQ. They were dodging, weaving, swerving and diving. Spinning, shooting and spiralling hard to lose as much altitude as they could. Flying street level, below the fire from the TLLA flak, was actually safer. Or would be if they could get there.

Jones was gripping the sticks for dear life and didn├óÔé¼Ôäót dare blink. TLLA flak seemed to be creeping up on him to the left. So swerved right, diving and spinning under it. This put them in the path of a large merchant ship, covered with quick smatterings of blue paint, marking it as NCLF. It opened fire and Jones dodged right again. Four silver streaks of a rocket salvo shot towards the other ship. Sanderson had evidently taken the opportunity to fire.

Whether or not he hit or missed, Jones didn├óÔé¼Ôäót know, and cared less. They were now going kamikaze at a large, burning hulk, forcing Jones to pull up hard to fly over it. Galvern, strapped securely into her seat, seemed to have her heart in her mouth. Calliger was even more agitated. Whilst he was also strapped down, he couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót bail when they were hit ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and they would be hit at some point ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ because he was chained to the wall.
A stream of around eight rockets came their way and Jones cut the thrusters and fired off the brakes, making the ship shoot back down, albeit the wrong way up ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ they were now flying in reverse. The missiles shot overhead and crashed into a TLLA helicopter, blowing it apart.

Jones fired the thrusters off again and they lost their inertia. The ship, not particularly this abuse of the laws of physics, groaned and started to lean back, threatening to flip and lose all control. Jones wrestled it back into line. The gunship, now flying on it├óÔé¼Ôäós back, upside down, spun to correct this, and allowing a laser shot to miss them and detonate the engines of another NCLF ship, which fell out of the air and into a residential block, killing hundreds.

Two helicopters, TLLA, came up along sides them to help bring them in. They came in formation for a few seconds to show that they were there, before veering off to cut a path for them. On Sanderson├óÔé¼Ôäós radar they were marked as TAL-03 and TAL-07.

TAL-03 didn├óÔé¼Ôäót last particularly long. It flew back and caught a small, one man fighter with it├óÔé¼Ôäós nose cannon, which was now loaded with solid slugs rather than rubber. These helicopters were for war, not riot control. The fighter fell away, bleeding smoke and crashed into something else. The helicopter dropped and spun and got a rocket into it├óÔé¼Ôäós tail section, knocking out the engines on the left side and sending it into a spin from which it would not recover.

TAL-07 fared better. It took out the engines of reconfigured ex-Fleet corvette, EMPed a merchant ship and took down another two fighters with it├óÔé¼Ôäós nose cannon. It sped forwards to overshoot the Stormwind and blasted another ship in two just in time for the Stormwind to fly over it. Missiles, heat-seekers, were launched from somewhere so they dropped flares. It traced the missiles├óÔé¼Ôäó trajectory and found their launcher ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ another ex-Fleet ship ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and launched rockets of it├óÔé¼Ôäós own. Now behind the Stormwind again, it darted forwards, ducking beneath a burning hulk as the Stormwind finally reached the haven of street level

Some haven. As soon as they lost the fire from the air battle they got fire from the ground one instead. A convoy of skiffs ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ not TLLA, but painted blue ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ with heavy weapons bolted on them were causing merry havoc with the arbiters below. Sanderson caught them in a salvo of rockets and TAL-07 mopped up the rest. The men on the ground cheered as the skiffs fell, still burning, into the snow.

They were coming up on the TLLA headquarters. They were also entering another residential block, full of towering spires and their connecting bridges. Barely passable for skiffs, for ships as large as the Stormwind and the TLLA chopper, they were impossible to get through. So back into the air for them.

Closer to the HQ, it was even more insane. Everyone was shooting everyone else. Jones very nearly decided to drop back down into the street level and nuts to the bridges, but thankfully decided against it. Bursts of flak went his way and he climbed, veering away in an upward spiral. The ship fell onto it├óÔé¼Ôäós back ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ flying upside down again ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and Jones did a quick spiral to dodge an oncoming ship and get upright again. TAL-07 flew past and EMPed another ship, which entered a spin and went crashing into the streets below, smashing through hundreds of bridges before ploughing into a building. Surprisingly, to Sanderson - who was watching it fall on a gun camera, it didn├óÔé¼Ôäót explode. Instead it slid out of the wound and fell backwards, nose in the air, before landing with a hearty thud and a crunch that shattered it├óÔé¼Ôäós engines with the impact of several tons of metal landing on several more tonnes of freshly broken-off debris. Then it was out of sight, as Jones shot the Stormwind away to avoid a barrage of cannon fire.

TAL-07 scooted up above them and EMPed two other ships before dropping back quickly to avoid missile fire. The Stormwind sped on, darting between two ships trying to ram each other, scooting over a ship receiving a large barrage of rockets, down beneath another breaking in half, spinning to dodge a missile barrage itself, and spiralling down fast to avoid flying into a large vessel heading straight for them.

They were through. The defences around the TLLA HQ had kept anything that shouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót out in a fairly large radius. Jones burst through the flak cloud and was free. TAL-07, however, wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót. It├óÔé¼Ôäós job done, it was assigned a new one and swerved around again, heading back into the fray with guns blazing.

The Stormwind shot over to hover at the top of the building, which opened up slightly to allow them in, and shutting immediately after they├óÔé¼Ôäód descended, to avoid allowing rockets and such into the HQ. They found an empty pad and landed.

Everyone unstrapped themselves, except for Calliger, who couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót for obvious reason. Galvern wobbled on her feet a lot before recovering sufficiently to walk. Jones and Sanderson were fine of course, having long since gotten used to Jones├óÔé¼Ôäó evasive manoeuvring. Sanderson uncuffed James from the wall, and stood him up carefully. He decided not to tie his hands behind his back again, as he could barely stand as it was.
They led him to the lifts, escorted by a pair of provosts, and headed straight for the Situation Centre.

***

Having explained precisely what was going on to Kandell, Sarah and Nove, the medical staff and the mercs who happened to stick around in the med station, Taylor and Anders were finally allowed beds to heal properly.
Kandell stood in the doorway. Tess, their medic, walked over.

├óÔé¼┼ôHow are they doing?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell, for now. If they├óÔé¼Ôäód kept off their injured bits they├óÔé¼Ôäód just be a few hours├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow do you mean?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Tess looked him in the eye ├óÔé¼┼ôThese magic pistol things only seem to make you ignore pain and carry on as normal, rather than heal wounds├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo they├óÔé¼Ôäóve been running around on damaged legs and - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôMaking things considerably worse. Yes├óÔé¼┬Ø Tess finished for him.
Kandell sighed and left for the elevators.

Anders had given Kandell his ear stud in case Adams tried to contact him. Kandell was now in the nose. In the pilot / copilot seats were Sarah and Nove, who were prepping the Falcra for flight. As the two were going through the pre-flight checklist, Kandell decided to check on the radio and communications. The Falcra wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót an Inquisitorial vessel, obviously, so it shouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót legally be able to tap into the TLLA├óÔé¼Ôäós com net, but as mercs, what they did wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót always legal anyway, so keeping an eye on the local law enforcement was generally a good idea.

├óÔé¼┼ôSarah?├óÔé¼┬Ø He called, after listening for a few minutes.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt would probably be best if we didn├óÔé¼Ôäót head for Orea.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay. I├óÔé¼Ôäóll set course for the├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôVengeance?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kandell said helpfully
├óÔé¼┼ôVengeance├óÔé¼┬Ø Sarah confirmed with a nod

The Falcra veered upwards and Kandell grabbed at a hand-rail. He ear-stud beeped suddenly. Kandell prodded at it, not used to its design. After a few seconds he simply took it out of his ear, found the right button, pressed it and put it back in.

Nove looked over her shoulder, annoyed at the ringing tone and watched the conversation, even if she only heard half of it.
├óÔé¼┼ôNo, no wait, hold on ├óÔé¼┬ª No, this is Brian Kandell ├óÔé¼┬ª no, Kandell├óÔé¼┬ª Who? ├óÔé¼┬ª Oh him. He├óÔé¼Ôäós been wounded a few times, he├óÔé¼Ôäós in our infirmary ├óÔé¼┬ª because he gave it me ├óÔé¼┬ª in case this sort of thing happened? Who is this anyway? ├óÔé¼┬ª Oh ├óÔé¼┬ª We├óÔé¼Ôäóre heading for the Vengeance, your ship ├óÔé¼┬ª but we need to ├óÔé¼┬ª oh fine ├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
Kandell clicked the stud off. He didn├óÔé¼Ôäót look too happy.

├óÔé¼┼ôSarah, set a course for Orea├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sarah turned around in her seat and stared ├óÔé¼┼ôIn there? You├óÔé¼Ôäóre kid - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôJust do it Sarah, please?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sarah turned back around, took the controls again and veered them back around. Ahead of them, the mass of flak loomed. Kandell swallowed, before turning on his heel and heading for the intercom
├óÔé¼┼ôThis is Kandell. We├óÔé¼Ôäóre going in hot, so we might encounter some slight turbulence and then├óÔé¼┬ª explode.├óÔé¼┬Ø He put the intercom back and clasped Nove├óÔé¼Ôäós shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ôEvasive manoeuvres when we get close. Full ECMs, the works.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Nove nodded
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd no ramming smaller ships out of the way├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAw!├óÔé¼┬Ø

He grabbed the intercom again ├óÔé¼┼ôStrapping in might be a good idea too├óÔé¼┬Ø
He put it back and walked quickly out of the nose and into the rear part of the head section. Alan and Cody, the Falcra├óÔé¼Ôäós intel officer and gunner respectively, were watching him apprehensively.
├óÔé¼┼ôCody, shoot at anything that doesn├óÔé¼Ôäót have TLLA IFF. Alan, set the ident beacon to TLLA├óÔé¼┬Ø

The two nodded and went to their consoles.
He exited the nose and hurried down a gangway into the central corridor which was positioned were the spine would have been in a real falcon (though this was actually a coincidence rather than a design decision). Tess hurried out of the lift.

├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre going into a combat zone?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm afraid so. Go back to the infirmary and strap yourself in├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat about my patients?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThey├óÔé¼Ôäóll live├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNot for long! Kandell, what├óÔé¼Ôäós wrong with you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTess, we├óÔé¼Ôäóre under Inquisitorial orders├óÔé¼┬ª we don├óÔé¼Ôäót have a choice├óÔé¼┬Ø

Tess paused, thinking about this. Then she turned around and headed back to the lift. Kandell poked his head into one of the chambers. The mercs within were strapped into their seats. One gave him a thumbs up. Kandell nodded and moved on. The ship rocked suddenly. Kandell sighed, turned and ran back into the nose.

├óÔé¼┼ôWe in already?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked Alan
├óÔé¼┼ôUh.. sort of├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre being chased├óÔé¼┬Ø Cody explained, manually selecting targets on a screen for the computer to shoot the Falcra├óÔé¼Ôäós rear turret at. Three fighters were on their tail, until the computer splashed them all in a single sweep. ├óÔé¼┼ôClear├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFrigate, enemy, East 20, launching rockets├óÔé¼┬Ø Alan barked into his stud. In reply, the Falcra veered and dropped away as Nove, as ordered, began evasive manoeuvres.

***

Adams hauled Furrows over onto his shoulder and turned to run back out. Three men burst in through a door and fell to the ground with bullets in their heads. Adams leaped over them and ran out the door they came in through.

He was outside. A crowd of people were standing there, looking rather stunned. Then someone ran up to him. Adams very nearly shot him.
├óÔé¼┼ôHere, I├óÔé¼Ôäóll give you a hand!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôErr - ├óÔé¼┬Ø

The man made to help take Furrows off of his shoulders. Instinctively, Adams free hand shot out and broke the man├óÔé¼Ôäós arm. The man screamed, and Adams brought his arm back, hitting the man with a backhand blow that sent him spiralling to the floor. The crowd exploded into pandemonium

People ran everywhere. Adams jumped into the crowd to lose any pursuers and headed for the main gate. The two looked startled, especially when they saw him

├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre under attack!├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams shouted to them ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóve got to get out of here├óÔé¼┬Ø
The two guards ran to the left and right and began operating the winch mechanisms to pull the gate open. Adams ran through and into one of the paths.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood luck!├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them shouted to him. The gates snapped shut again.

***

├óÔé¼┼ôOh, sod it├óÔé¼┬Ø Nove muttered. With a sharp pull of the stick, Nove pitched the Falcra nose to the sky and fired the jets off full. Kandell was lucky he├óÔé¼Ôäód strapped in.
├óÔé¼┼ôNove, what the hell are you doing?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kandell shouted into his stud
├óÔé¼┼ôCheating. And don├óÔé¼Ôäót yell in my ear!├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Falcra shot upwards into the sky and atmosphere, pushing through the clouds until she burst into the glittering black void of space. Above Orea, things were a bit more sane, mainly due to the presence of the Vengeance. The gravity was slightly less in high orbit and Kandell found himself floating awkwardly. They hung in the air for a while, before Nove pitched the Falcra down, and shot back towards the ground.

As Nove said, she├óÔé¼Ôäód cheated. Instead of flying through the air battle below, she├óÔé¼Ôäód flown over it. The Falcra sped back through the clouds and went in a beeline for the residential sector

***

├óÔé¼┼ôWhat on earth happened to him?├óÔé¼┬Ø Asked a TLLA agent
├óÔé¼┼ôJones├óÔé¼Ôäós idea of evasive manoeuvres is what happened to him├óÔé¼┬Ø Galvern said, gesturing to Jones with her head. Calliger was looking distinctly ill tied in a chair in a private booth in the TLLA Situation Centre. Jones and Sanderson were sitting idly opposite him. Jones scowled
├óÔé¼┼ôThey were necessary! They got us here alive!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd they made the creepy guy who doesn├óÔé¼Ôäót officially exist airsick. Congratulations├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert sighed and put his head in his hands. Those two were beginning to get on his nerves.

├óÔé¼┼ôYou├óÔé¼Ôäóll have to excuse my colleagues├óÔé¼┬Ø said the quiet man with the black hair. He rose out his head, his words having all the more authority because they held no emotion. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey├óÔé¼Ôäóve had too much caffeine this morning├óÔé¼┬Ø
He walked over. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy name is Sanderson├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, shaking Talbert├óÔé¼Ôäós hand
├óÔé¼┼ôTLLA Arbiter, 1st Class, Talbert├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert replied.
Sanderson smiled and gestured to those beside him. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is Jones. That├óÔé¼Ôäós Galvern├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert took a seat and peered at the captive James T. Calliger. No records. Nothing, not even a duplicate entry for someone else with the same name in the sector. His DNA was on record, as were his irises. But they showed a fake entry. He didn├óÔé¼Ôäót exist. And he didn├óÔé¼Ôäót work for the Inquisition. He made Talbert nervous.

He didn├óÔé¼Ôäót notice that Jones was watching this with a smile. He├óÔé¼Ôäód seen Sanders do this before ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ he could be damn intimidating when he wanted to be. It was always fun to watch. He├óÔé¼Ôäód probably make a good Investigator one day, which was probably why Adams had roped them into this.

├óÔé¼┼ôSo, who is he?├óÔé¼┬Ø Galvern asked. Calliger had been put out by a med with a small syringe filled with the same stuff the TLLA darts had in them. Another syringe with a different liquid in ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ this one a dark green ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ waited on a table. It was a wake-up shot to counter-act the sedative.
Talbert shrugged ├óÔé¼┼ôHe├óÔé¼Ôäós no-one├óÔé¼┬Ø

Galvern blinked
├óÔé¼┼ôNo-one?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo-one. No records. No DNA on file, no iris data. No data even from his name├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich will be a fake anyway├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson said with a sigh.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat makes you so sure?├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert asked, irritated at the pilot.
├óÔé¼┼ôSomeone of his calibre will not make the mistake of using his actual name├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert scoffed ├óÔé¼┼ôMr Sanderson, these are just NCLF rebels, his brother - ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWon├óÔé¼Ôäót be his brother├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson said, cutting Talbert off.
Talbert blinked. ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm sorry?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck his DNA against that of Ian Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø

Talbert did so. Whilst they didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have ├óÔé¼╦£James Calliger├óÔé¼Ôäós├óÔé¼Ôäó DNA on record, they had the real thing in their HQ, and had taken a sample as soon as they realised he didn├óÔé¼Ôäót exist. Talbert had spent enough time in the TLLA to spot a fake. The console he was sitting at beeped. No genetic match. On a whim, he told it to search DNA databases for match ├óÔé¼╦£James├óÔé¼Ôäós├óÔé¼Ôäó DNA. It would take a while, he knew. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo match├óÔé¼┬Ø

Sanderson nodded, thinking.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo what is he?├óÔé¼┬Ø Talbert asked, doubting the pilot would know the answer
├óÔé¼┼ôNot NCLF├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson replied simply. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe know the NCLF have some powerful allies. He must be working for one of them├óÔé¼┬Ø
Talbert sighed. Great.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhat do we do now?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones asked from the back.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson said, mulling it over, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe can either wake him up and interrogate him now, or wait for an actual member of the Inquisition to arrive├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jones sighed. Great

***

The Falcra flew with graceful elegance. Nove and Sarah loved to fly it. And, with years of practise, they were damn good at it too. They swooped and swerved, spiralled and sliced across the sky, dodging pretty much everything. Because the Falcra was painted black, most people thought it was an Investigatorial vessel, but not all the stuff they had to dodge wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót actually aimed at them.

They swooped down to top-level. Ahead, a blue frigate ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ a big frakking frigate ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ loomed into view and opened fire. The Falcra├óÔé¼Ôäós PDWs opened up and blasted a swarm of missiles sent her way. Nove back-flipped and sent her streaking across the sky. Then she brought the ship back around sharply to fly along the back of the frigate. The ship├óÔé¼Ôäós engines loomed into view, spurting all manner of particles out into the atmosphere. The frigate shouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót have descended to this level. It had probably been chased down here by the Vengeance, which had the sense to stay in orbit. Either way, they├óÔé¼Ôäód have to cripple it.

The Falcra shot up and across the topside of the NCLF frigate and came around to fly at it again. Behind Nove and Sarah, Cody found and locked onto the Frigate├óÔé¼Ôäós bridge. The Falcra├óÔé¼Ôäós plasma cannons opened up, firing a stream of blue globs that the Frigate├óÔé¼Ôäós PDWs couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót shoot down. The front part of the Frigate exploded and the ship started to veer downwards. The Falcra nipped across it├óÔé¼Ôäós ruined prow and launch a tow-cable to catch it, hauling the ship upwards, not so much pulling it as rotating it until the still-running engines were pointing downwards enough for it to shoot into the sky without causing anymore harm. Nove wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót doing this to save those aboard it. They├óÔé¼Ôäód be killed off by Fleet Marines. She was stopping it crashing into the city below.

Detaching the cable, Nove flew the Falcra back down. They ducked into the fighting momentarily to nip through and into a residential block. A burnt out husk of a building. Kandell thumbed his ear stud.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich level?├óÔé¼┬Ø

============================
PRODUCTIVE FLOATS

I apologise on it being late-eyness. As a sort of apology-gift, here are two inked and coloured sketches of Jones, Sanderson, Taylor and Kandell:


Jones, left. Sanderson (with wonkey didn't-quite-work arm)


Taylor left, Kandell right

Those are much better...but your right, that arm is wonky and not worky. Arms are hard, but for me the three hardest parts are: Hands, legs and boobs if the drawing is a woman. So I am working on that by drawing lots of boobs



Oh right, the episiode. Quite good, as per usual. Start writing bad so we can complain about it.

lol... I thought they were supposed to be kinda badass, not toothpicks

Good, good, continue on...

Zoombie:

http://www.polykarbon.com/tutorials/index.htm
http://www.mangatutorials.com/

And go visit some webcomics (drawn ones) that have good art. There's usually a few sketch fillers around. Study how they've been put together

Generally, to keep proportions correct, make an accurate (as in: proportionally accurate relative to the head) stick figure.

Oh and practise. Practise is good.

Also: You can't see it, but I'm grinning. You know why I'm grinning? We got Photoshop. That is all.

You bastard!

Oh wait...my freind can get me photoshop for free, I do belive...I'll need to check with him. And I do practice. I just don't show it to anyone. Thanks for the links, by the way...

Sarah and Nove (The Falcra pilots), in sketch form!

Why do I think Sara is saying: "Sorry we landed in your front lawn," to some indignat parent. Oh yeah, it's cause I'm crazy.

Have to be a damn large lawn to fit the Falcra