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originally posted in:The New Dojo
originally posted in: THE DOJO
1/4/2018 10:34:12 PM
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[b][u]Overthrown[/u][/b] [b]Plunderer[/b] [b]Onboard the Plunderer, somewhere above Tatakai[/b] [i]"Captain, Republic Alamo portside, should we engage?" Asked a frightened pilot, looking to the captain of the [b]Plunderer[/b] for confirmation. "Get us close," the captain responded, giving a sick grin. Captain Andrew Booker looked out of the massive window on the bridge of his ship as they slowly turned to face the colossal NTR warship, and he would see not a ship, but a prize. His prize. One just ripe for the taking. [/I] [b]In Space[/b] [I]The engines of the ship lit up and the vessel turned to intercept the ship, and it darted forwards towards the much bigger Alamo. Guns from both sides came online though the nimbler pirate vessel's activated first, and they started with a strafing run overtop. The pilot turned the ship upside down as it flew over the Alamo and it's top guns started striking for the Alamo's own. Strafing was tougher, but the pilot inverted his controls to make it easier on him, and soon they bobbed and weaved their way all across the length of the vessel. [/i] [b]On the Alamo's bridge[/b] [i]"Admiral, they've taken out our guns up top!" Shouted one of the Republic pilots, as he sprinted into the bridge. The Admiral of the ship, Adm. Tifvara, looked at the projection of the ship that had been picked up on the 3D radar and scowled. The Plunderer had been harassing Republic vessels for a few months, but not in the same way that most ships did. Then all of a sudden, explosions fired off inside, and the Admiral stood from his seat on the command deck of the bridge. He grabbed the pistol in its holster at his thigh but didn't draw yet. [/i] [b]In the Alamo's Hangar[/b] [i]"Brace for impact, get down! Get the fu-" Soldiers ran out of the hangar bay and into the far fringes of the room as the Plunderer rolled up beside them, right to the entrance of the ship. A series of walkways shot out from it and pirates started pouring out left and right, each one engaging the NTR's forces as they spread out and shot from the hip. They used suppression tactics to fight off Republic forces, and many made it to cover behind ships and crates of supplies. The Republic returned fire in waves - when one soldier reloaded, another would shoot to keep the pirates pinned down in their spots, and a third troop would take potshots at any pirates they saw. Booker burst forth from one of the walkways, clutching his sword Hullpiercer in either of his armoured hands. Republic Marines focused fire on him while the soldiers took the fight to the other pirates, but each of the shots sent out by the Marines missed as the pirates gave sufficient covering fire to their leader. Booker dove into cover and sheathed his blade - Apparently his men didn't have it all under control. He scratched his brown beard and peeked out from cover, getting an assessment of the situation. A scowl crossed his tanned face when he saw the droves of Republic soldiers that had his men pinned, and found himself pulling a pair of pistols from the black biker jacket on his torso. He looked to the pirate to his side and gave a look to him, and the pirate knew exactly what to do. She grabbed a grenade from her belt and tossed it to the floor just in front of her crates, and several others did the same. Smoke came chuffing from the silver canisters and filled the air, obscuring the stacks of pirates. Booker looked to the woman and gave a thankful look, before he grabbed a plate of metal from his jacket. He put it on the top of his head and pressed a big red button, and the plate moved over his head, locking into place like a helmet as two bright red glass shards covered his eyes. The mouth was covered by a black mesh to filter out the smoke. He stood from cover and slid over the top of it, before he started to sprint through the smoke. The Captain emerged among covering fire from the pirates as shotgunners emerged behind him, sprinting in front to help rush the Republic's soldiers. They shot Booker and his men, but the bullets for the most part diverged from the path of Booker as they neared his helmet and the armour beneath his jacket - A repulsion field knocked away the shots, and he returned fire with his twin pistols. Shots came from all sides and both suffered casualties, but the pirates pulled through into the hallways with their sheer firepower and bootloads of zeal. The hallways were filled with soldiers, but Booker and his troops came prepared. For each hallway there was one pirate in front, holding up a tall shield of metal and slowly progressing forwards with more behind them, combating the Republic. Grenades were the main tactic of the NTR but they were quickly thrown back or jumped on by pirates in scavenged flak jackets, and they swept a way through the ship easily. Booker ducked into the ventilation shafts of the ship as soon as the repulsion field in his armour ran dry. He took off the jacket, leaving his upper body covered by just a black vest with the Repulsion Drive on his back, and a pair of black cargo pants. He checked his weaponry - The pistols were running low on guns and Hullpiercer was still in its sheath, but the rifle on his back was still full on munitions. He holstered his pistols and crept his way through the vents, holding his rifle in front of him. The helmet projected a map compiled from raids of other Alamo vessels, and he marked off a route through the vents to the command deck - He needed something specific, and it was sure to be there. [/i] [b]Onboard the Alamo's Bridge[/b] [i]"This -blam!-ing pirate and his ragtag team of screwups is [b]winning!?"[/b] Shouted the Admiral, who was just in absolute disbelief of the situation entirely. "No sir. We've done a number on them, but they still have about a quarter of their invasion forces remaining. Their ship has left the area and their captain is missing, so we've got them on the ru-" As the pilot was almost finished speaking, a grenade plopped down to his feet. Soldiers left and right jumped behind cover as it exploded, though what filled the air was a mix of shrapnel and smoke. Marines affixed infrared sights on their guns as they scanned the room, although they soon found themselves falling one by one. Once the smoke cleared, Booker jumped down from the rafters, his rifle aimed at the remaining Marines. They fired at him although he returned fire, rolling out of their bullets path and behind a metal desk that had been overturned in the chaos. The soldiers saw a grenade roll to their feet and they jumped away, but it never blew up. Booker popped up and fired at each of the soldiers in the room, before shooting the Admiral in his knees. "Lock the doors!" He yelled to one of the pilots, who simply stared in fear. Booker raised his gun and fired at the ground in front of him before the pilot had screamed in fear and obeyed his command. The doors locked up, and Booker had his way. He lowered the gun and approached the Admiral of the ship, staring maliciously at Tifvara. He spat in Booker's face, but the pirate wiped it off and laughed. "Tiffy, we'll be learning to get along very well." [/i] [b]In the halls of the Alamo, the speaker activates. Tifvara's strained voice is heard over the comms. [/b] [i]"Men and women of the R... agh- Republic, lower your guns. These people have us... Beat... Get to the hangar! Bays one through four, and surrender your guns to the pirates! [/i] [b]In Hangar Bay Six, Starboard Side[/b] [i]"Alright, Republic doggies, let me introduce myself - I am Captain Andrew Booker, captain of the Plunderer. I'll let you guys figure out what I do for a living," Booker announced, climbing up to the top of a stack of crates. He looked out over the crowds of Republic soldiers, each one tied by the wrists using various ropes and in lines, each one in front of transport vessels and Canaries. "So, we'll be sending every one of you down to Tatakai's own Ollimand and you'll all find a way back to your precious Republic. Anyone who tries to resist will be shot, and anyine who wants to join my crew will be given a night with one of the girls. This ship is, as of now, property of the Plunderer's Fleet." [/i] [b]Dojoville, Tatakai, Three Days Later[/b] [i]The Plunderer had touched down in Dojoville hours ago to refuel, and the crew had either stayed to guard the vessel or went around the docking bay to grab a bite to eat, or something else for themselves. Booker had gotten all dressed up in a casual outfit consisting of jeans, a grey undershirt and a black overshirt, unbuttoned and with the sleeves rolled just past his elbows. He sat in some dingy bar in the heart of a shady neighbourhood, with only a pistol and a few other pirates inside it to act as protection. [/i] ((Open for interaction!))
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  • A shady neighborhood attracted the scum of the Pirates, but also attracted shady people themselves. The door of the bar swung open, and a cloaked figure made its way in. The cloak was brown and tattered, having seen years of use, and covered the five foot six inch body completely. It was so long, that even a decent portion dragged on the floor! A thick mesh covered the part where the face would be, making it seem as though it were a helmet instead. However the dull glow of two green eyes beneath it begged otherwise. His walking made no sound, as if under the cloak he was gliding instead. He slithered his way to the barstool two down from the pirate leader and sat on it. "[i]Water?[/i]" It was a raspy voice, not exactly deep, but not excessively high either. However, it seemed to have a presence behind if. Even among the clatter of the bar, it could be heard loud and clear, as if it was said inside the listener's mind. The bartender reluctantly handed the man a glass, where a black glove reached out from under the cloak, and brought it inside. Looking around, it turned to the nearest person, which happened to be the Pirate. "[i]Where... Are we?[/i]

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  • Michael Drake strolled into the bar with some haste, his crimson jacket flapping around in the cold breeze as he shut the door behind him. He had rather large accomplice with him, whose features were shrouded by the dim light of the bar, that went over to a table and sat down immediately. Likely backup, in case this was some sort of trap. As Drake strolled over to Booker, the pirate has the chance to get a good look at the man. For the most part, the bounty vouchers didn’t lie—he looked sharp, as was his trademark, but his icy blue eyes exuded a cunning intellect that his appearance wouldn’t necessarily suggest. His face was slightly flushed from the cold, and when he sat down next to Booker, he let out a deep sigh that he’d evidently been holding in. “Captain Booker,” he nodded with some respect, “I got your message, and I appreciate the head’s up, but I don’t think we’ve met.” Drake held out his prosthetic hand to shake, “I’m Michael Drake, Captain of the Arrowhead. Pleasure to meet you.”

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  • [i]"Pleased to meet you, Drake," Booker responded, the tone matched. He shook the hand of Drake firmly, though his grip on the prosthetic was awkward - He wasn't used to gripping metal like that. Booker grabbed his drink once more and chugged down the rest of the swill rum he had, before speaking up again. Not in a casual tone, but in one of respect, almost like a businessman. "So let's get down to it. First thing's first though, I need to discuss something else with you first. Regarding a certain dude who might be out to get you, pretty sure he was part of your crew once." [/i]

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  • Drake ran some names through his head. Before he’d grouped up with what was now the Arrowhead, which only had a few ex-members, he’d been on a few different ships as a crewman, just trying to make even. Could it be one of them? “Happen to catch a name?” Drake said calmly, his gaze not leaving Booker’s eyes.

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  • [i]"Nah. But it looked like that Garino guy or whatever his name is." Booker had done some looking around among his contacts and found an image of Garin since they last spoke, a wanted poster that matched the description. He knew that he had information and was prepared to sell out Drake, and out of a sort of honour code amongst pirates and other outlaws, he couldn't let it happen. "Came in here asking to see the carcass of an NTR ship I plundered, tried to pay me in information of you and your crew." [/i]

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  • There was a brief moment of distinct dangerousness that flashed in Drake’s blue eyes. It was only there for a moment, but it left the impression that he wasn’t one who took betrayals lightly. “Garin Fohrik...” he muttered quietly, a menacing edge seeping into his voice, “I haven’t met that man in a while... but I’ll find him.” Drake leaned back on his stool to stretch his back, revealing the blasters at his hip. Booker had heard dangerous things about the man’s draw, especially with that prosthetic hand of his. But when he raised his hand, it was merely to fix the hair that hung about his forehead. “Again, thanks for the head’s up Captain,” he said as he stood up, “if you ever need anything, I owe you one.” Drake looked over across the bar, and gestured for his companion to get up and leave. The imposing figure put some credits on the bar, and left. “Now if that’s all you’ve got to say, I’ll leave you to it now.”

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  • [i]"That's all. It wasn't too long ago, so I wouldn't wager he got too far. But you know him better than me." Booker stood as well, a way to see Drake out. He wasn't a man to be trifled with surely, so Booker wanted to make a good impression on the man. Always good to have a decent reputation when dealing with colleagues like outlaws. [/i]

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  • “Right then, I’ll see you starside...” Drake turned to leave, but seemed to remember something at the last second. “Wait a sec,” he looked over his shoulder at Booker, “you said that you plundered an NTR ship? Here, in Tatakai?” Drake’s hatred of the NTR was infamous. After the Hermes, investigation had revealed that he believed them to blame for the death of his wife, among other things. The validity these reports were unconfirmed.

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  • [i]"Right. An Alamo warship, sent the surviving members of its crew to Ollimand and conscripted whoever would join us for deckhands." Booker took pride in his plunders, and an Alamo was no different. He was getting it retrofitted in orbit as they spoke with all the necessary modifications for his fleet - Mainly internal and external colour schemes to mark it as his. [/i]

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  • “An Alamo? Either you’ve got a big ass crew, or a big sack... good work in either case.” Drake raised an eyebrow, impressed. He’d heard Booker’s name before, but he hadn’t yet heard of any outlandishly successful feats to his title. Needless to say, he was a bit skeptical. “You don’t mind me asking,” he said, careful not to sound condescending, “but capturing an NTR warship is no small feat. I don’t mean to doubt you, but you wouldn’t have any proof that you took it down, would you?”

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  • [i]"Yeah. Some security footage of me in the bridge, I'll send it your way." Booker grinned and pulled up his phone, sending a video of the interaction between him and an Admiral to Drake. He definitely could use it to boost his reputation, thinking about it. [/i]

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  • “Aw man, that’s fu[i]c[/i]king wicked,” Drake said while grinning at the scene and, unbeknownst to Booker, recorded the video with his prosthetic eye for his own enjoyment later on. “Well, sorry for doubting you man. That looked pretty metal.”

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  • [i]"Thanks, though that's probably nothing compared to the Hermes," Booker said with a chuckle. The Hermes raid had less crewmates and a general onboard, that was tough to compete with. [/i]

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  • In one of the booths sat a woman, looking to be in her mid-twenties. She was an abnormally large woman with slim muscle covering her tall, 6'6" frame. The strangest thing had to be the fact that she had fire emitting from her body around her waist and chest to cover herself instead of clothes and for some reason the fire didn't burn anything around it. She pulled her long red hair out of the way of her bright orange eyes as she downed a whole pint in seconds. "Another!~" The woman smiled at the waitress as more alcohol was brought to her, showing off large fangs.

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  • [i]There was just some stuff that made Booker stare in confusion. The pirate captain had seen a lot in his day, but a woman wearing fire was most certainly an anomaly to him. He stood from his seat in the bar and grabbed a drink for her. Booker took his seat across from her, sliding a drink to her half of the table. "Hope you don't mind I'm bringing you one instead?" [/i]

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  • She gulped it down rather quick before smiling at the man, happy she got a drink, not caring who brought it. "Ah! Thanks! I don't care who brings it as long as I get one. I do wonder why you came over here though. Don't you have your band of sketchy guys to attend to? You like, in a gang or something?"

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  • [i]"Something like that," Booker said with a grin, shaking his head slightly. He looked into his drink for a moment and pondered - Did he really looks sketchy? He drank it and looked back up at the woman. "They'll be fine alone, I just came to see what was up with you. You're on fire right now, and I mean that as both a compliment and literally." [/i]

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  • "Umm. Thanks." She shrugged not really getting the compliment. "Yeah, I don't like clothes, but apparently nudity is bad so I use fire. It works and I still feel free as a bird so I don't mind."

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  • [i]"Riiight. So you don't like clothes, is that a religion thing or something?" [/i]

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  • "No, just not used to it." She shrugged again. "I'm used to hunting with my sisters in an Eternal Forest where clothes don't exactly matter."

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  • [i]"An eternal forest? Whats that?" [/i]

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  • "It's where we hunt. The perfect place for any hunter." She sighed, as if remembering some great memory. "Woods that go on forever, filled with the most dangerous creatures imaginable."

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  • [i]"Huh. Would you be keeping pelts if you killed something there?" [/i]

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  • "Yes, I have the largest collection of my sisters actually!" She seemed to get a bit excited at mentioning it. "Very rare ones too!"

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  • [i]"Huh. Where is this forest?" [/i]

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