Doing another early August one.
*Mihoshi HappyHappy Dance goes here*
It was not a particularly nice bar, but it served.
Any and all sorts of people could come here and not be
noticed. Pushers, suppliers, thieves, fences, opposing
businessment, mercenaries, fixers...
Everything but lawyers. Lawyers weren't welcome anywhere.
Which is why Miss Moneymaker changed professions. ^_^
That was the entire point of the place.
The elegant woman tried to keep this in mind as
she picked her way past the drunk sleeping on the
sidewalk.
{]The Lobster Empire presents...[}
"You wanted to speak to me Fargo?"
me, Fargo.
(Fargo? Largo's bastard cousin four times removed? ^_^)
XP. The Saber's Fixer, as though you didn't know.
"I've got something you might be interested in,
Sylia."
(DB looks at the subject line) Shoot. Not a lemon. Guess it's not what the
readers hope it is.
Maybe in #5. (Who knows, I may even be old enough to read lemons by then...)
There were two reasons to start with the GPCC.
First, it was the nexus of both their target and hundreds
of other projects. Second, of all the targets they would
hit for this operation, it had the lightest security.
Since the other targets would be top-secret weapons
development labs, 'light' was just a relative qualification.
The high heels of the Knight Sabers armor were not
designed for running. Jump jets eliminated the need, and
let you move faster to boot.
Yes. One wonders why have awkward heels at all.
They lock into the motorslaves' legs.
/How much farther Nene?/
farther, Nene?"
*scrribbles a note*
came over the tacnet.
/It should be the last door in the next hallway to the
left, Priss./
Rounding the corner brought them face to face with
seven hulking, overmuscled blue mechanoids- C-class boomers.
One of them said, "In order to pass, you must answer three questions. What
is your quest? What is your name? What is your favorite color?"
*shatter* Bastard.
/Nene, ID the model type.
Nene: Cindy Crawford model.
Priss; Cool. Brings all my latent lesbian tendencies to the forefront.
Sylia hugged her from behind and whispered, as much as she could whisper
with both their helmets on, in her ear. "As long as you still have time for
me, sweetling."
Priss, you have the two in
the middle. Linna, go to the left,/ Sylia ordered,
That left none foe her, but she was planning to take a nap anyway while the
others did all the hard work.
After all, how dangerous could a pair of endoskeletal types will silly names
like "Ifurita" and "Iczer" be?
Nene was so panicked at being shot at that she jerked
back, falling flat on her butt and making the laser beam that
would have killed her scorch harmlessly over her head.
My. Tougher than usual models if they can do that kind of damage.
Mmm? *checks his copy of the RPG* Hmmm. Well, I hadn't thought of that.
*is suddenly wearing a snappy black suit and wraparound mirrorshades* Look
at the red light, please. *holds up a thick silver pen with a red LED on the
top end*
*FLASH!*
garnish. And _who_,/ she was standing by then, and leaned
forward into the taller woman's 'face', /Do you think you
have to thank for that distraction?/
/A sugared cream-puff?/
Nene: Bingo.
I'm ever so proud of that exchange... one of the few times that I've been
able to write something funny.
went out and interrupted him. Previous experience left only
one conclusion. <This... Is going to hurt,> he thought.
When the Knight Sabers sprinted up to his post, he had
barely begun his attack before he crashed to the ground, all
control runs severed.
Heh. Nice
Not for Crash. Which is the point- The Universe Hates Him.
The shuttle shuddered slightly as the first breathy
tendrils of air brushed against the its hull as it arced towards
Honshu.
Meg looked over to her left at the first jolt. "You really
think this'll work?"
Sylvie smiled. "Trust me." Her left thumb toggled the
intercom switch built into the control yoke. "Jettison now, Lou."
Lou threw Anri off the shuttle.
"That wasn't what you were supposed to jettison" Sylvie said in a tired
voice.
"She was whiney anyway." Lou offered in explanation.
*chortle*
"Besides," Meg said, "she was last year's model."
and its armor is significantly better. The forearms are composed
of solid blocks of polymorphic metal, similar to that used in
fusion boomers. They can take any of a number of forms, the most
common of which are shown on the right and left arms of the unit
in the schematic. It's fully flight capable, with the thruster
units in the calves and shoulders. The mouth weapon is a high
powered cutting laser.
In other words, it is some serious kind of kick ass.
You better believe it.
Are there any questions on this one?"
"Can we retire?" Linna asked.
"Rules four and eleven," Sylia said calmly, with a hint of a smile.
"Eep!" Linna 'eep!'ed. "Question withdrawn!"
Sylia pouted.
"So we have to get all the development data on these,
probably after first fighting our way through the prototypes and
demonstration units, and then destroy the labs COMPLETELY?!"
Priss said "
Priss said,
Dammit.
* * * * * * * *
The helicopter was quite simple in appearance, a ring with a
broad bladed rotor in the center, cockpit and fuselage attached to
the centerline and curving both above and below the rotor,
stabilizer fins attached to the sides of the ring.
"It's ridiculous I tell ya!
ridiculous, I
*sigh* Sorry. This was the first piece of fanfic I ever wrote.
A soft bell rang through the room. "Ms. Madigan to see you,
Mr. Quincy."
Kill her before she kills you.
Oh, come on. This is the boss that kept MASON on the payroll.
"Send her in."
Another missed opportunity, fool.
Quincy's a bigger shark than she is, and she knows it.
She felt a faint flush, and let the jacket fall loose -
suddenly, the night was a little warmer. Behind her eyes, she
raged and screamed at the nameless who had brought her into the
world so...
But her lips smiled, and said, "Well, not anymore..."
And when, a few minutes later, she returned the way she had
come with a brick red stain on her jacket and a flush on her cheeks,
no one dared disturb the sounds of the busy silence.
'Busy silence.' I like it. Nice turn of the phrase.
Thank you.
The entire scene was rewritten to Simon and Garfunkle's Sounds of Silence.
* * * * * * * *
Another office, smaller than the first and lacking the
first's
two 'first's close together. Change second to 'the former's' or something
similar.
*nodnod*
valuable. If the A.D. Police or the Tower become aware of its
existence, we'll have to cut our ties with SDPC."
The other flipped a coin, spoke, meditatively,
Don't think you need all of those commas.
Right.
"And if we know what it was, then we know why someone would
want to steal it," said Inspector Leon McNichol meditatively.
"Just as a final note before you leave," said the Chief, "_Try_
not to step on _too_ many toes, okay?"
Leon: But there's no fun in that.
Heheheheheheheheh...
"Yep. But that was the story."
She knew him well enough to understand that. "So what was the
real reason?"
"Sexaroids, remember? The ultimate bedroom toy. Designed to
be human in every way possible..." He trailed off. "Too human,
mentally. If they'd stayed around, people might have started
wondering about the morality of using boomers."
"So _Genom_ had them outlawed? That's a switch."
"Uh huh."
Yes, it is, but it makes perfect sense. They can't sell sentient machines,
that would be slavery. :)
And Genom is a Respectable Company...
Sylvie looked over the room, then, having spied what she was
looking for, dragged Lou over to one particular booth.
"Hi, Priss," she said, "who are your friends?"
"Huh? OH!" said the woman sitting on the left side of the
booth, then, pointing at the woman across from her, "This is Linna,"
and then to the girl behind her, "and this is Nene."
"Hii!"
"Hi!"
No, she's drawing it out.
"So what's the big deal?" Leon asked casually.
"The big deal is that aside from being one of the best armed
pieces of equipment on the market, this thing is absolutely
revolutionary. It's nearly as strong for it's
its
D'oh!
For his part, Crash had just been listening to one of his music
files when he ran into her. Running into a sexaroid was unusual.
Unusual things usually ended with him experiencing much pain. He
encountered a lot of unusual things.
Heh. Cute. I like him already.
Me too. Such a pity he never catches a break. *evil grin*
The chopper pilot was a brave, competent worker. Nevertheless,
the thought of the official displeasure that leaving without
authorization would bring down on him had him squirming in his seat.
"Are you sure this is a good idea Leon?
idea, Leon.
You do this a lot. Watch out for it.
Right, right. Like I said, this is old.
/Attention! Running firefight moving west on Route 237!/
"Your heard the man," Leon said, "_Move it_!"
"Don't teach me my job," the pilot shot back, wounded pride
sharpening his voice.
'Don't tell me my job' (Would sound better, IMO)
Mmm... Right.
"I have the data I need to get rid of my blood dependency,
now all I need are the tools to make the necessary modifications,"
she sounded positively gleeful.
Flatvoiced. "You're the sexaroid." He did _not_ need this,
on top of everything else.
"Yes."
"Great. _Now_ what do I do?"
Offer to have sex with her in return for letting her go.
That would probably lead to a recreation of the original Leon/D.D. fight.
* * * * * * * *
Inside the battlemovers cockpit, manacle like
manacle-like
D'oh!
Sylia jerked backward at Linna's cry of pain, only to be
brought up short as the blade she had blocked seemed to melt and
ooze over her arm, while the other arm formed into a spike and
pulled back for a killing blow.
Oh dear.
The things were originally inspired by a picture on Phil Moyer's website, if
you can believe it...
Hmm. Interesting. Moved fast and the prose flowed well. Don't know what
else
to say, other than good job.
*Happy Happy Dance x10* Thank you very much.
Blessed be.
Nathan Baxter
I'm not a very good author, but I like to think I'm getting
better.
"Goodbye and hello, as always."
--Corwin of Amber
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