Well, we've got a pretty plan fixed up, but if you think you can add something, Drop on by. We haven't really stuck perfectly to plan ourselves, so there's room for modification.
And there's space for a followup story afterwards, because Quattro's delivered to the Forge aboard the Nova.... and that's where the focus on her ends. We follow Jet and Ford back to Mars, and Cathy and Cathy back to wherever.
Speaking of which. Two more parts. One shamelessly cribbed from TSIR. But I like it. Even if it is a little cheesy.
Is it a little bit silly or what?
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
And there's space for a followup story afterwards, because Quattro's delivered to the Forge aboard the Nova.... and that's where the focus on her ends. We follow Jet and Ford back to Mars, and Cathy and Cathy back to wherever.
Speaking of which. Two more parts. One shamelessly cribbed from TSIR. But I like it. Even if it is a little cheesy.
Quote:----
“All personnel, All personnel. We are under attack. We are evacuating the station. Make your to the hangar bay. Make your way to the hangar bay for evacuation.”
Cathy looked up at Ford. “It is Jet,” she said, hopefully. “It is about the right time if they got the signal,”
Ford was focused on the corridor ahead. They had to push their way through a crowd of panicking Goths. Some of them were running, some of them were panicking. Some of them dived into hiding places. Others saw the catgirl and the courier running armed and figured it was a good idea to pick up a gun and join in the fight.
“Yeah sister, we’ll show them that just because we’re Goths, we’re not pushovers,”
Dead goths walking. Compared to what she’d heard of Jet’s abilities, they were. She wasn’t sure whether to hope Jet was exaggerating about her abilities or not. The thought of those gliesbies getting cut in half made her feel queasy. They didn’t deserve that... they were just idiots, not zwilniks.
There wasn’t much, if anything, she could do to stop them.
“I think something may have happened to their computers,” Cathy said. “All the doors have failsafed to unlocked.”
Ford kicked an access hatch open. It clanged against the rock wall. This access passageway led on down to to the labs.
Ford swung in, quickly covering the passageway.
“Clear,” she barked.
Cathy followed, covering rearwards.
A minute to Quattro’s lab, maybe less.
----
Jet felt all her controls slip off her body like a silken negligé. Jet didn’t know how she knew what that felt like, she just decided it was an appropriate metaphor. It was that same private release of tension in her body, just allowing it to fall down around her feet.
Take a deep breath in vacuum, feel liquid freedom spread through her body. The wristcom gave tips that, physically at least, didn’t really apply to Jet anymore. A sliver of duct tape held a compatible mic and earpiece to her left ear.
Blades locked into place on her forearms, the extra mass of the steel reassuringly familiar. The others had their own blades, either clamped to their forearms or strapped to their back in the form of an massive, oversized balisword capable of cutting an unarmoured human being in two from head down.
And that wasn’t hyperbole. Jet had seen Lenneth do it.
Jet checked her harness, her webbing, her pistol. Medkit, flashbangs. Everything was secure and stable. The others were busy doing the same thing. The same usual routine.
Jet was fizzing to get out there. Jet had to keep herself calm. This was, from a practical standpoint, no different to any other mission. Add Ford to the mix, and it was completely different.
“Engel one, Gruppe. Comms check,”
Her hardware gave an error. Right. Disabled that. She switched the headset over to vox.
“Engel one, Gruppe. Comms check,”
The other foured answer in turn. Lenneth, Tiegel wiith his eye black a permanent feature. Lightweight Jash the sprinter with the demolitions gear and Yukio with her cocky grin and AC-built figure.
The hatches blew, bursting open at once as the electromagnetic locks powered down.
“Jet, Acknowledged.” she finished with herself. “Hart kämpfern,”
“Echten kämpfern!” the others responded.
Call and responde might’ve been a little cheesy, but it lit a fire of fury in the blood.
“Hart kämpfern!” Jet bellowed once more, almost interrogating them.
“Echten kämpfern!” they confirmed.
Jet felt her heart race, a savage grin on her face. She closed her visor, her helmet pressurising with a thump. One last time.
“Hart kämpfern!” As if she didn’t believe them
“Echten kämpfern!” they roared. It made the speaker crackle, and the watch complain.
It was time.
Jet lit her engines, flaring off into the black.
“Angreifen!,” she screamed.
I’m coming for Ford.
----
Is it a little bit silly or what?
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?