The Lucky 13 chapter one

AlWayZFrE3 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **AlWayZFrE3** on Wed Dec 30, 2009 11:55 pm

Tyler looked at the doctor with a straight face, "Hey, dude, you touch me with that needle, and i swear to god you'll be puking daimonds as soon as i find some coal."

When he moved in anyway, Tyler lunged up and slammed his forehead into the doc's, knocking him out. When the guards just stared, he shrugged, "I told him, just didn't tell him I'd knock his ass out. Now get me to the recruiter guy, I can talk normal."

They did, though with seven different implements of making sure he didn't move. They dumped him in front of the military guy without much in mind gentle wise. Just to be a smartass, Tyler smiled and said, "Wha's happnin captin?"

((If you can't work with Tyler right now, disregard last paragraph))

Heirii13 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Heirii13** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 1:00 am

((my bad for not posting this fast enough, AlWayZFrE3, but I wrote in your character here. It's contradictory to your post though, cuz I was still writing it when you posted! i need to type faster, geez. you're a ninja, you beat me to it))

"Mother-goddamn-friggin'-ass! For the love of CRAP!" Tara Astraea-Izar Bolivar, prison physician, added politely to the intelligent conversation she had been indulging.

Surprised by the sheer brilliance of this clearly presented comment, Shaw the scruffy Provost with a crooked nose looked up anxiously from his magazine containing studies of the female anatomy. He coughed nervously as he turned his gaze onto the medical officer, "Wh-what's th' problem, doctor?"

"Nothing, assistant," Doc Bolivar hissed between clenched teeth with mock formality. The 34 year-old woman stood up quickly, tending to the fresh coffee stain on her white uniform shirt with sharp annoyance. Coffee.The good doctor's only means of comfort in this hell-hole of pig-headed Provosts and psychotic criminals. Coffee. Feared enemy of white blouses everywhere. Like all good things on Jukau Gamma, however, coffee was rationed. "Rationed" was the term Commissar Baum used for everything that the medical staff requested. The Provosts had coffee in abundant supply, yet magically supplies would run short everytime someone in the medical department, particularly a Doc Bolivar, asked. Who did they think kept them alive on this pitiful planet? Without her they'd have been long dead from a whole variation of illnesses, the most prominant being STDs. It was a real mystery how they could have possibly acquired those. These were the pitiful conditions that Doctor Tara Astraea-Izar Bolivar endured. And now, to the doctor's dismay, the last bit of coffee that had been carefully saved and hidden had been taken away from her by a white piece of clothing.

"It's always the ones you least expect," she muttered to herself as the guilty party was removed from her body and tossed onto a desk until its sentence had been decided.
With an identical shirt pulled on and buttoned, Doc Bolivar turned around to Shaw the scruffy Provost with a crooked nose, who was immersed in his studies again. Not interested in attempting to have an intellectual conversation with someone lacking even the brain capacity of a dead slug, Doc Bolivar sighed. Commissar Baum had announced the arrival of "important guests" at the start of the day and the doctor found her mind flickering between thoughts. At the time she had no interest in meeting and entertaining the idiot Commissar's guests, but now she regretted the decision. The Commissar had even gone out of his way to gather the prisoners together for said guests. Whatever for was the mystery. The 34 year-old woman smiled to herself as she leaned against her desk. She had missed out on something interesting, indeed.

"Knock, knock, Doc!" An especially burly Provost practically belched as he entered the infirmary, carrying something over his massive shoulder.
Shaw the scruffy Provost with a crooked nose was disturbed from his ~~pornographic magazine~~ studies for the second time, "Whatchya got there, Binn?"
Binn the burly Provost guffawed at Shaw the scruffy Provost with a crooked nose, "Delivery from ta Commissa'. Corporal says for you to patch 'im up."
Tara Astraea-Izar Bolivar, prison physician, spoke without any sarcasm at all, "Oh, yeah? Imagine that. Me, the doctor, ordered to tend to wounds. Well, if you say so. Strange stuff happening now-a-days."
Binn the burly Provost grunted as he flung the unconcious criminal previously on his shoulder to the ground with a loud thud of flesh vs. floor.
Doc Bolivar sighed, "And now that you've properly split his skull open I'll get to work," with a twist of the heel and a flip of long, black hair, the doctor slapped the magazine from assistant Shaw's hands and tied her hair into a ponytail.

Tyler stirred, then sat up slowly, spitting out a coagulated ball of mushy red, "Well that didn't taste good. Any of you dumbasses got a drink?"

Doctor Tara Bolivar groaned at the familiar voice, "Tyler Briggs. Did I not just see you here but two... three days ago? Do you like the infirmary that much? How'd you get your ass kicked this time?"
Binn the burly Provost answered after a switft kick into Tyler's side, "The piss-ant attacked one of our guards. Ripped out his throat with his teeth."
"You know I just finished reattaching the ear to the last guy you had a fight with; you need to sit still and give the good ol' doctor a break once in a while."

AlWayZFrE3 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **AlWayZFrE3** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 1:22 am

((Okay, disregard last post))

Tyler sat up, or tried to, "Oi, I kicked his ass, and I think the level of black in his eyes proved it. And damnit I killed that little bitch 'cuz he wouldn't stop hitting me. Dude was annoying, he had to go."

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 1:39 am

"Well well well" said Rogers, a small smile cracking the normally thin line that was his mouth, "Maybe I can make somethin out of you yet, with a little proper training. Oh and your little chair trick was clever, I was expecting you to kick or claw. I can see you've got a brain in there. Keep thinking and maybe you'll come out ahead of the rest of the rabble. I'm sure that the platoon and team leaders I select from the lot will get something extra when the mission is over, assuming that you survive."

Gently, he released his grip on Inali's throat, until she was standing solely on her own. After a third puff of his drug of choice, the major circled around the soon to be soldier, looking her over and letting his hands get (more then a little) familiar with her legs and arms, almost like one would do with a race horse or other such animal that one was going to buy. She was tone from the struggle to survive on this icy hell but she would need more muscle to engage the enemy, whom had a liking for getting into personal combat.

"Smoke" asked Robert, coming to a stop, facing Inali and offering his own burning cigarillo.

-------------------------------------------------------

"What happened to your face" asked Rogers, wishing he could bend his own rules and have another smoke, the volunteers had gone from bad to worst over the passed few interviews. Ms. Jones had the look of just another twitchy basket case and wasn't help by the fact she had talked to the air. He really didn't about what had caused the ugly purple bruises but he wanted to see how sane an answer he could get out of a woman. At least she had shown a little spunk when the Provost had dragged the wretch into the room.

Koritai · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Koritai** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 1:57 am

Damia

"Guard," Damia said pointing to one cheek and then pointed to the other and finished, "Me." The silly grin and crazy look replaced by a rather stoic expression, she could be quite animated in facial expressions. Realizing that two words wouldn't explain much she continued, "I pissed off the guard by calling him a piece of meat wasting life. I'm OCD among other things, I need things to be even, so when he gave me a bruise I had to give myself another to even it out." After a moment of silence she asked, "Why does what happened to my face matter anyway?" She'd expected questions about anything but her face, she'd expected questions about what she did, why she should be one of the few chosen. Heck even questions about her sob story, not like she had much of one she enjoyed her life past the point of killing her mother. Ah, yes, those were the good old days.

LeiaHair · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LeiaHair** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:10 am

Nora's stomach dropped. She didn't have to turn around to know who the rough, snakelike voice belonged to. With a look to the ever so calm Collin, the young girl stood up and faced her propositioner. Forcing her lips into a soft smile, she ran a finger down the fat man's chest and stomach.

"Now, Addy..." She started in a soft seductive tone, standing as close to him as the bars would permit. Flirting with her round, deep blue eyes, Nora pleaded mentally to any gods that could hear her that she wouldn't have to go through with this. "I'll make a deal with you. If you open this door, love, and let me in... for free... I will pay any other trade between us myself."

Keeping her eyes locked on his, she slowly drug her fingers lower, past his belt and teasingly close to his inner thigh. "Just you... and me..."

The confident, and seductive, mask she wore could not keep her brain from screaming within itself. Her plan was to just get past this door to the Provost quarters where Collin could steal a uniform. From there, she would pretend to be a prisoner that he would be taking onboard the ship. This deal she was trying to push Adolfo into accepting was all based on the fact that she didn't plan on being here to ever trade with him again. Ever.

klikxx · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **klikxx** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:48 am

Alistair’s presence was announced by the rattling of chains as he presented himself in the doorway to Commissar’ Baum’s office. Flanked to either side were two well proportioned guards, one hand grasping the chains that restrained the mammoth man, the other at the ready upon the stun stick at their side should the prisoner choose to cause a disturbance. The “monster” as many dubbed him had made the visit on many occasions without incident. Still, the man made them uneasy whenever he came topside for death seemed to follow his very footsteps.

“That will be all.” Baum issued the decree to the Provost escort barely looking up from the bountiful feast he was partaking of. “Leave us to talk.”

The systematic rattle of the chains we accompanied by a soft clapping sound from his heavy boots as Alistair made his way across the polished floor towards the oak desk. Arriving at his destination, he reached in between the many layers of bloodied sheets he had strapped to his body for warmth and produced a small cloth bag. Dangling between his pointed claws was a hefty portion of the valuable white metal he watched the fat little man’s face light up. Only within the grasp of such massive meat hooks would such a bounty seem so tiny. The weighty thud confirming the value of the prize as it came to rest upon the desktop.

The rotund Commissar had little fear of the simple man who stood before him. He was his property and he held the chains that allowed him life. Licking his fingers he savored the greasy taste of the meat drawing in a deep satisfying breath. He brought the corner of the white cloth tucked into the collar of his uniform gently wiping the corners of his mouth as he drew a smile. While a quick tug he removed the napkin, crumpled it and tossed it upon the remainder of the food in front of him.

“Shame that entrepreneurial whore Inali would be supplying any supplementary snacks to your earnings in the mine. Should make you more productive in the long run. You’ll have to turn back to me again to satisfy that insatiable appetite of yours. You see, I’ve arranged to have her selected to an off colony work detail. Funny, the platinum you’ve just provided should be enough to cement the deal.”

Alistair managed to display little emotion as he stared out from the strawberry blonde curtain that hung in front of his face. The only hint of the rage that began boiling inside was the hint gleaming from his electric blue eyes as they began to burn brighter. He studied the face of his opponent carefully trying to distinguish some sort of advantage. There was none to be found. He had noticed the long line up of prisoners down the hallway clamoring about a guarded doorway. Was this what he was referring to?

“Whe—Where is sh- she?”

“To late to worry about that. You can’t change this Alistair.”

It was the Commissar’s eyes that gave him away, they lead Alistair to the truth. Slowly the awkward looking behemoth turned back towards the door.

“Wi-will tha-thatt be all the-then”

“GUARDS!”

The routine was always the same. The door would open and the Provosts would escort the felon back to his cell for the evening. Baum would send his provisional lamb to the mines the next morning as payment for Alistair’s contributions. Only tonight there would be no Inali to listen to she described her exploits as he drifted off to sleep. Sometimes she even provided the lumbering giant with a show and a snack of fresh flesh during the presentation.

As one of the Provost guards reached to secure the chains Alistair shouldered the man to one side grabbing the wrist of the other guard holding the stun stick. His razor sharp fingers dug deep into the flesh as he yanked the arm containing the electrified stick into contact to his bowled over partner. With a quick snap of the wrist he secured the weapon for himself. Alarms wailed the alert as the new found fugitive made his way to where he believed Inali to be held. Even as he made his way through the other prisoners the soldiers drew their weapons in response to his approach.

His adrenaline had already begun to course through his body as he systematically grabbed the nearest body to shield him from the fire. Alistair hurled the stun rod toward the sentry that had already begun to draw a bead upon him. The charge dispersed through the soldier’s body as it made contact with its target crumpling him to the floor. Not before the soldier himself got off a shot that stuck the enraged bull in the shoulder.

“ARRRGGGGHHHH!”

The scream was both a result of the pain the fell upon him as the bullet tore through his flesh and the battle cry as he readied his human shield for impact with the other obstacle that stood in his way. There were two obstacles really and both were taken care of in one fell swoop as he took the soldier, the inmate and the door crashing into the next room. Looking up from his perch upon that tangled pile he called out frantically. He knew his time was up as the familiar click of automatic weapons followed by a series of tiny red dots dancing about his forehead.

“Inali?”

Inerio · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Inerio** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 11:11 am

Inali was quite happy having her throat released. Though, most people usually were. There was seldom a time person A had their hands around person B's throat and then after A stops B laments: "Aw, why did you let go?" Granted this probably wasn't unheard of. Especially not there in Jukau Gamma. Inali's hands absently went to stuff themselves into the pockets of her jacket. However, she'd forgotten she'd tied it in a knot on her upper torso(not to mention the fact that her current jacket didn't have pockets. Oh well, old habits did die hard). On one hand it essentially hung a figurative sign around her neck that either read Rape me or I'm easy. On the other hand, she didn't need to take her jacket off to examine her stomach in the mirror in a vain and obsessive manner like she usually did to pass time. After the brief mistake Inali placed both her hands on either side as if she meant for them to be that way.

"You having fun there?" Inali couldn't help but ask as the Major examined her arms and legs. She couldn't help it. Plus, it certainly wasn't the worst comment she could think of off the top of her head. For the first time in a while Inali held her tongue somewhat, a small crass smirk creeping up her lip. Once she was picked she might have fun with Rogers. The good clean, sexual harassment-y kind of fun. After all, she liked older men. She married one twice her age, and the Major looked to be around that special twice her age kind of age.

Inali was surprised by Robert's command. She blinked a few times, her body habitually leaning away at first. Had she been some sort of scrappy don't-boss-me-around type of idiot she might not have taken the smoke. However, Inali wasn't the sort. No, she liked to think she was smarter than that. Briefly she'd taken a moment to consider that he might have poisoned the smoke. However, that was just stupid. Why would he be smoking it if he did? Prison life was not bettering her mental health.

Not wanting to pass up the opportunity for a random act of kindness Inali inhaled a good amount of smoke before settling down in her seat. She wasn't about to take a large drag, partly as to not be rude and partly because she wasn't sure how much her lungs could take. Holding the smoke in her lungs for a minute Inali leaned back in the chair before exhaling, watching the smoke vanish through the air vents. It was a shame they were there, Inali rather liked watching smoke drift about listlessly. It was quite calming.

"Thanks." Inali grinned up at Rogers. However, they were the only words of appreciation that she could find on the back of her tongue. The other words got lost, for Inali simply wasn't good in such a situation. "What now then?" She asked, moving her hand slightly in a questioning manner. For the time being things were calm, but the woman was blissfully unaware of the the trouble brewing just outside. Still, be it the current situation at hand or some sixth sense alerting her to the trouble Inali's stomach had managed to tie itself in a knot.

Heirii13 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Heirii13** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 4:57 pm

Doc Bolivar gazed down at the deranged 19 year-old helplessly. Licking her heavily chapped lips and clicking her tongue indecisively, the 34 year-old woman gestured the burly Provost to be on guard. This day just kept getting worse.

"Alright, alright," she whined to herself. She pulled on a pair of gloves and busied herself with searching through a nearby cabinet. She'd been doing this for four years now but this was still the hardest part of the job, and that was just getting the patient to sit still long enough to actually help them.

The woman made her way closer to Tyler as she held the sedative needle in her hand. Shaw the scruffy Provost with a crooked nose sensed that it was time for what he got paid to do, and pulled out a weapon similar to an electric cattle prod.

"Now, are you going to be a nice little boy and let the doctor do her work," Doctor Tara Astraea-Izar Bolivar jested emotionlessly, "or are you just going to make this difficult for me?"

AlWayZFrE3 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **AlWayZFrE3** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 5:29 pm

At the sight of the needle, Tyler growled and assumed a feral, wolf-ready-to-pounce position, "Touch me with that thing and I'll shove it up both your asses. I don't need drugs or help, just give me a friggin bandaid and send me on my way, I'm fine."

Heirii13 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Heirii13** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:00 pm

Doc Bolivar laughed at this comment, "Is that right? Your arms are sliced up so bad that you must've lost a pint of blood, it looks like you lost a couple teeth, and you must have at least half a dozen broken bones, but it is your professional opinion that all you need is a band-aid! Jesus, your bruises have bruises!"

She was surprised he was still alive, in fact. The kid was tough, that much was obvious, and could probably withstand a lot more damage to his person. What surprised her was that they had let him live. Usually when the Provosts got really bloody and into a fight where they left the inmate in a state similar to Tyler's, they'd just finish the job by killing him right there or leaving him to bleed to death. The fact that they not only let him live after a beating like that but also sent him down to the infirmary meant that he was either pretty freaking important, or just one lucky bastard.

"Shaw," the doc called to her personal guard/assistant, "fetch Mr. Briggs his band-aid."

Tara Bolivar knew when not to press her luck against an already riled up inmate and she prefered to do her work diplomatically. She was a fighter second, and a medic first, after all. She put down the needle, deciding that it wasn't necessary, for now. The raven-haired woman approached Tyler boldly and immediately began basic first-aid. She cleaned, bandaged, and slapped on band-aids where needed.

"Slight sting," she warned monotonously as she sprayed disinfectant onto the open wounds.

And so the repairs continued.

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Thu Dec 31, 2009 11:17 pm

Adolfo leered at Nora, forcing his flabby hand through the bars, so that he could fondle her. Finally, the one thing he had desired more then anything in four years, was going to be his. Course the little whore wasn't going to play nice, no one very played nice here on Jukua. She'd have that big boy toy of her's kill him or something of that nature, once the door was open. So, to get what he wanted, he'd have to play just as dirty was she was going to and his piggish eyes blazed with glee.

His hand came back through the bars, as the old bastard's blood started racing. He hadn't felt this excited in years, not since that night, in his old restaurant, when he committed that murders that got him sent here. Oh yes, he had once been the head chef of his very own Italian dining place, where his passion for cooking was rivaled by his passion for the lovely sou chef Jessica. Oh how great was his rage, when he found her kissing, that lowly waiter. It had felt good, when he plunged the knife into that little punk's back and even better forcing his prize to pleasure him in the way she should have.

Adolfo stepped back and too the side, so that he could get at the door control panel and an older, projectile pistol that was stored there. He could remember that unique pleasure he had gotten, as he cut the both of them up and turned them into stews. He had been caught before the chance to serve the pair to customers had come along, he had been writing up the stews as specials when the cops came. His fat fingers set the open to a five second delay and grabbed the pistol.

"Come my dear" the fat cook oozed, stepping back to the door as the bars started to creek and raising the weapon to aim at Nora.

--------------------------------------

"Well there might be fun" said Rogers, taking his cigarillo back, "But it will have to wait until later Inali, at least until we are traveling to the training facility. In the mean time, I think I have someplace were you can amuse yourself for a while. Oh and welcome Operation Power Surge."

The Major walked back to his seat and selected a standard issue black duffel bag from the floor. Not truly expecting her to fill the thing, he deposited the sack on the chosen woman's lap, smoking leaking from the corners of his mouth. Patting her head, like one would a favorite dog, he walked over to the door and yanked it open.

"Sergeant" said Robert, "Take Inali back to her cell, to collect any personal items she might want and then escort her the rec room. Place a guard and return. I don't think she'll try anything but I don't want MY people getting into trouble."

"Sir!"

---------------------------------------

Rogers looked up from datapad, the smoldering nub of his cigarillo still tucking into the corner of his mouth. In the room besides his, another conference room, used in the rare times that large number of Provosts need a briefings, there was a great commotion and a bellowing. Rising from his chair and drawing the pulselaser pistol from it's hustler. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to let a bunch of convicts start a riot that as going to end his life. Not on this ass-pimple of the universe.

As he opened the door and stepped out, there was a semi-circle of armed Provosts around the door to the second room. Sticking out of the doorway, he could see a tangle of feet and debris. The came the second cry, a male voice calling out the name of his first chosen inmate. That peeking his curiosity and he glanced towards the rec room, she might have heard the call. Edging closer, he raised a hand towards the jumpy guards, silently ordering them to hold there ground. Maybe they'd remember something from their military training.

"Inali is not in there" said Robert, keeping his voice calm, as he stepped into the doorway and glazed at the what could have been the largest man he had ever seen.

---------------------------------------

"I see" said Roers, looking at with his flat stare, "And its only a question. Would you have trouble working with others, in an odd numbered group?"

The Major glanced down at the datapad and looked back up. For some strange reason, his heart suddenly became a little lighter, a feeling (one of a few) that he had felt when dealing with Inali. Maybe it was the cosmos tell him who to give another chance too, in this forgotten corner of nowhere. Or it could have been gas. For some reason, the thought of the cosmos telling him what to do was unsettling and he was hoping that it was gas, really really bad gas.

Kohananinja · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kohananinja** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 12:53 am

Charlie’s thoughts swirled around in her head after being escorted by an overly friendly hand back too her cell. She sat there on the floor, staring hard at nothing in particular as the wheels in her head tried to wrap around the events of the day. A full pardon? It sounded too good to be true, much too good. What was the rub? If anything, her time here had taught her that everything had it’s price, and the good stuff was always steep. And there was another thing, with the number of planets in the federation, why did they need convicts to volunteer, especially convicts from Jukau Gamma with a full pardon on the line? Was the army crazy? Didn’t they know the kind of nuts they’d be letting back out? Ahhh and there it was, staring her right in the face, the rub. This military mission behind military lines, behind Tarnakian lines, was some kind of suicide mission. Something they didn’t either didn’t expect to work, weren’t willing to waist good troops on, or both. Using convicts instead of real soldiers for a special suicide mission> Sounded entirely like something the army would do.

The real sad part was she’d still probably jump at the chance if given it. These last six months in prison had made her perhaps a bit masochistic, which was not a particularly healthy thought. But there was no denying she’d take any chance, no matter how slim, to get out of here. She had very few ambitions for if and when she was finally let out, but one goal drove her with controlling hatred and anger. When she was let out, she was going to Find Richard Nelson, and she was going to kill him. In that respect, the sooner the better, if for nothing else her brother’s sake. Fifteen years was too long for her brother to not try to kill Nelson himself, and she wasn’t going to watch him ruin his life and get sent here for the job she intended to do herself. Just thinking about Nelson enjoying the wealth he was no doubt reaping in from the factory he had destroyed her family for, filled her with such scorching hatred she balled her hands in fists until her abused knuckles turned white, and the cuts on them opened bleeding through the wrapping on her hands. She swore at herself for getting so riled up, and looked at her hands in annoyance.

Inerio · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Inerio** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 12:58 am

The mention of fun made Inali's upper lip twitch into another smile. If he was thinking what she was thinking then it would be fun indeed. And, she was damn well hoping that the Major was on the same page as her. For a moment she receded too far into her own thoughts again. Inali couldn't help but wonder how long it'd been since the Major had diddled anything. Army people didn't do that often, right? She had no clue save for the Provosts she knew in the jail. Who were either one extreme of utterly asexual to the next extreme in which they were akin to a dog in heat.

Inali didn't bother to catch the duffle bag that was thrown on her lap. Either way it was just going to end up on her lap while she was still sitting down. For a moment she looked up at Rogers with a puzzled look. What was she supposed to do with the damned thing? She hadn't any clothes. Unless the prison gave her back the clothes she came in. Though, those probably wouldn't suit the mission at hand. Not by far.

Inali grimaced slightly when Robert patted her head. Her one eye squinted as her mouth twitched ever so slightly into a frown. The minute his hand lifted itself from her noggin her face snapped back into it's usual demeanor. While she didn't outwardly complain it wasn't a gesture she liked, but she wasn't about to bitch and moan about it. He could have choked her again which would have been far worse.

"I hope to have lot's of "fun" with you on our mission Major." Inali smirked before she followed the guard out the door. "After all: All work and no play might make Rogers a dull boy." She hadn't bothered to look at him for the last of her comment, allowing her comment to be the last thing lingering in the room.

The walk to the Rec room was littered with small talk. Inali didn't care though. No, she'd take a talkative guard over some quite stick in the mud any day. Besides, Fernando was quite a cutie. Though, she had to admit that her opinion was heavily influenced by the fact that she managed to talk him into saying "You're beautiful." to her in Spanish.

Sitting in the rec room was less boring than the walk. Inali had managed to get quite close to Fernando. The kind of I-could-get-fired-for-this close. Certainly not in his pants though, which was a tad disappointing. Albeit, when you hear the faint cry of your name being shout in an almost desperate manner you don't exactly put it off till after nookie to examine. Such a fact goes double when gun shots are thrown into the mix.

"Where are you going?" Fernando asked, clambering to pull his jacket back on as Inali started her way over to the door.

"Did you not hear that?" She asked, regarding the man as if he asked her possibly one of the most idiotic questions that had ever disgraced her ears. For a moment she stopped, giving the man an impatient look, before going to push the doors open.

"But, you can't go alone!" Fernando stated, jogging to catch up to her. "It's probably not even safe out there."

"Well, you're the guard, guard me." Inali snorted, rolling her eyes slightly as she walked out into the hall. Finding the source of the noise wasn't hard. All she had to do was look down either side of the hall and choose the end that was littered with people. With purpose Inali strode down the hallway, pushing past a few Provosts to get a good view of just what in the blue hell was going on.

"Alistair!" Inali shouted over the bit of commotion amongst the staff. Her cry was something of a child like shout, like a kid who had been separated from a sibling in a crowd. Perhaps it was because the Provosts new who she was. Or, perhaps it was because they were all too nervous to react. Whatever the matter Inali had managed to make her way to the wounded giant's side without much trouble at all.

"Hey! Alistair!" She spoke softly, though her voice held a neurotic undertone. "What the hell kind of trouble did you just get yourself into?" She asked, titling her head and inspecting his shoulder with an almost uncharacteristically maternal concern. Looking up Inali realized just who was standing next to him and her face pulled into a clearly upset frown. "Long time no see. " She grinned weakly. "Now, do you think you could get them to get him." She whispered while motioning her head towards Alistair. "To the infirmary?"

ZenMon · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **ZenMon** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 1:16 am

((Yes, yes, I know it's not a good opening, but I can't think of much atm.))

Jakob lay in his cell on his bunk, his hands interlaced behind his head, humming to himself. He was waiting for the guards to come for him so he could start his mining shift. He sighed, sat up, and thought. It was nearly time for his shift, or it should be. He stared through the small opening in his cell door, keenly listening for any sounds of boots. There were faint sounds approaching the door, but he dismissed them as the guards, and got up. Stretching, he heard the guards opening his cell door, and stood well back. The routine was the same, three guards, one with restraints, the others for escort. His restraints were attached to his limbs, and he was, as usual, shoved out the door. Stumbling slightly, he leaned on the wall, only to be yanked back to his feet and led down the hall. I wonder where today will take me...

AlWayZFrE3 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **AlWayZFrE3** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 5:05 am

Tyler let the medic work on him patiently. As long as needles didn't come into the mix, he was fine. When the medic finished up, he sat up and cracked his neck, now not bleeding at least, "So, when ya gonna take me to the Major? Cuz' honestly, there's no other reason I'm still breathin."

Koritai · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Koritai** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 2:15 pm

Damia

"That depends, usually I'd say I'd kill one of them, but if they were people actually worth their waste of life, then I don't know what would happen. I've never actually been in that situation before." She said thinking for a moment, she was unsure of how the man would respond to the fact that she was all the willing to kill her own comrades as anyone else. "Look, this is a military thing right, and in the military you kill people, namely the enemy. So long as I've got a target to kill and something to kill them with I'm good. I can't kill everyone with hand to hand, there are a lot of people bigger and better then me and I really can't afford to be be friend everyone." Damia said shifting slightly in her chair. She was starting to get a bit bored simply talking to the man.

She wanted to kill someone, she hadn't had the chance since this morning and Charles had ruined that for her. Now here she was stuck in a room with her only ticket out of here, and she would have very much liked to kill him. Only problem is that she was too smart to do that too herself, and he probably had a gun. You can't be faster then a bullet, there was simply no way, a knife maybe but not a bullet.

Doran · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Doran** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 5:11 pm

IC: Theodore Calxes

Theo was one of the many people pushed forward by the oncoming mass of criminals and brutes. Being near the front of the line, Theo was knocked to the ground. His small frame nearly trampled by the oncoming sandwich of prisoner and Provost. Luckily, he managed to crawl out of the way of the cracking whips and crushing boots.

Only to be crushed by a 230-pound dumbell who got too close to a Provost. He landed on Theo's chest, knocking him to the ground. Theo literally ate dirt and permafrost in the sudden contact of his mouth to the ground, and retched it back up in a bad cough. Over the sounds of whips cracking and guns firing, it wasn't heard.

The brute that landed on him was shot, judging by the close scent of burning ozone and skin. Theo laid on the ground, unmoving, other than to place his arm over his head. Soon enough, a big ring of other bodies formed around and on him, but Theo remained where he was. Well, this is unpleasant, he thought. The prisoners on top of him stunk already, judging from all the weights they lifted in the exercise room, but the laser wounds and bleeding cuts from the whips and fists were far worse. Theo held his breath for as long as he could, but when he judged that the Provosts had all vacated the area, he let it out and started to breathe heavily. It took him another few minutes to break free of the mass of dead bodies, but he willed his tiny body to push them off. Anything to get off of this iceball.

The Provosts were gone, ostensibly to lead the prisoners back to their cells. The Major Rogers was gone, as was "our dear Commissar." Theo was alone...

... except for three others standing off near the gate.

Theo ducked at his waist and ran as silently as he could to a pillar, attempting to get closer. As far as he could tell, it was Nora Sanders, Collin Long and that dirty cook Adolfo. Nora seemed to be attempting to sexually seduce Adolfo, for some sick reason that Theo could not understand, other than getting the gate open. It was really the only reason he could fathom. Adolfo disappeared behind a wall, only to return brandishing a pistol. The gate did open, but Theo didn't want to imagine what kind of perverted thoughts Adolfo was dreaming he was going to get from Nora. He knew the sort of thing Nora did in the walls of Jukau, but to that fat slob? Not even in her sentence, or anyone's.

Theo crept closer as Nora stepped through. Near the pillar was a large rock that he could grasp in his hand, but would he be able to get through in time before the gate closed? Not likely. He could knock out Adolfo and steal his pistol and use it to stun Nora and Collin... maybe. Likely that Collin would snap his neck with one hand before that happened. Or he could strike a deal with Collin and Nora. He knew they hung around together from seeing them in the prison. They were more likely to be enemies afterwards, but if he could show them what he was capable of with electronics, they might be friends first.

He grabbed the rock and started to approach the gate.

Mr. Smiley · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Mr. Smiley** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 9:12 pm

As the inmates were led off to the main grounds for an announcement, Provosts whipping and thrashing out at the stragglers, Gril leisurely crept along the side of their broiling mass. His movements thoroughly second nature Gril quickly slid past the more violent inmates, ever watchful for flashes of metal or determined movements. This parade of theirs was normal, their movements without purpose: merely another day in the hell they called home. Just the same he was ever watchful, be it for a potential fight, or for someone to slip up. Flash a shank, he could sell that, give someone the wrong look, blackmail, trip in the throng of hulking masses, a little kindness could go a long way. Always watching, always thinking, always calculating, that was how The Sneak lived his life. Sneering as the rolling masses piled up before the podium Gril’s beady eyes darted from the prisoners to those above as Commissar Baum announced their new arrival.

Gril carefully examined this new figure as he began to ramble at the podium. This “Robert Rogers” fellow appeared late forties, early fifties, well built, probably just under six foot without his boots (military sort always wanted to appear tall and imposing). Gril’s eyes darted across his uniform, his worn expression, shoulders held just below the ordinary level of military precision. This man had felt the wear of time, but still had fight in him. His eyes darting to the crowded mass before him, then back to the Major, Gril listened absentmindedly as the man continued.

“…ederation is at war. Even now, our glorious armies push into the territory of the alien Tarnakians. Any volunteers, willing to complete a mission behind enemy lines will be granted a full pardon. All records of your internment and crimes will be purged from official files.”

With the last few words Gril’s eyes snapped to attention, his eyes gazing upon the now violent masses before him. Lost in thought he gazed blankly forward, suspicion never leaving his grizzled features. ”…Full pardon. All records of your internment and crimes will be purged.” How… interesting… With a slight sneer Gril’s eyes once more focused on the throngs before him. There was little point in charging forward as the hundreds of others had done, unless one wanted to be shot. There were more effective ways of getting the Major’s attention, but first he’d have to find out exactly what it was the man was looking for. Gril cared little for what the mission entailed, or his chances for survival, whatever they may be. He’d long ago learned to take things as they came, and it had done him quite well in the past.

Turning to the side he slowly headed back to the cells as Baum bellowed from the podium. This would be an interesting day….

----------------------------------------------------------

Quietly walking into his cell as the automated gate slammed behind him Gril quickly moved to the rear of his cell, reaching along the base of the wall. Brushing aside the thin barrier hiding one of his minor stashes he quickly scribbled instructions on a piece of paper found there, grabbing a small piece of scrap platinum as he went. Due to his contacts throughout the prison he was able to reward such things considerably better than the Commissar did, and as such he’d acquired a considerable supply of the unrefined metal, hiding it in his numerous stashes throughout the compound. Resting his head on the bars of his little caged home he leisurely folded his hands together before him, eyeing his fellow prisoners as they were shepherded along by the Provosts and low level officers. Watching carefully as one of the Officers brushed along his cell Gril dropped the scrap paper and platinum in one of the man’s outer pockets, brief eye contact confirming the transaction.

Demetrius was one of the many non-inmates commonly under Gril’s employ. He’d find out what he could of the Major and his mission as quickly as possible, soon to return in hopes of further payment. A thin smile breaking his otherwise contemptuous features Gril slowly sat upon the creaking and barely stable mass that was his bed, silently watching the bare hallway outside his cell, patiently waiting whatever was to come.

Irish Wolf · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Irish Wolf** on Fri Jan 01, 2010 11:12 pm

Rogers looked down on Inali and the giant she had named Alistair, with the same flat stare he normally wore. He found it strange that anyone in this place, would show concern for another or maybe it was that he had missed judged the girl and she was a tart with a heart. Maybe this was her favorite protector or her best, which could have been one in the same. For an instant, a primal urge tickled in the back of his mind and his hand tighten on his pistol; Kill the man and claim the woman.

However, other wheels were turning as well. Alistair had proven that he was strong and would do anything to get to Inali. If he was to say, order the whore into danger, this beast of a man would follow. He could use that and use it very well. Of course, he'd be running the risk of become the target of the giant's rage, should Inali come to a bad end. Well, a laser round to the frontal lobe, killed any man, no matter his size or temperament. He could always find solace in that.

"Inali" said Robert, lowering his hand, so that the barrel of his pistol was pointed at the floor, "If I get medical treatment for your Alistair, he becomes mine, just like you. Will he do well with others because I don't have the time and materials to waste on a mad dog, that would have to be put down."

-----------------------------------------

"I see" said Rogers, getting up, looking Damia and tossing a black duffel bag on the table before her, "I see. Well let me offer you a deal, if you think that you can keep from killing anyone, worthless or not, for a little over four months, starting right now, I'll take you along. I can supply some drugs to help fight the urge to snuff out the life of another person. At the end of your training, you can kill as many of the enemy as you please, then you go free. If you take the deal, grab the bag and have the guard take you to collect whatever personal things you have. If you don't, get out. I'm not here to waste anymore of our time."

----------------------------------------

"Sergeant" said Robert, poking his head out of the door and fighting the urge to light up another smoke, "Go fetch me Charlotte Hopkins."

"Who Sir?"

"Charlotte Hopkins" repeated the Major, raising the datapad in his hand and tapping the picture of a scrappy looking woman.

"Oh" said the Provost with a smile, "You mean Charlie."

"No" said Rogers, "I mean Charlotte Hopkins and I mean get her now!"

"Yes Sir!"

-----------------------------------------

"Hold on" came a voice, as the trio of Provosts were removing Jakob from his cell. It was a rather rattish man, with a corporal's strips on his shoulders. He had been a drug dealer on the outside, before being sentenced to life in prison and become a trustee at Jukua. His feet came to stop besides the Provost with the restraints, from a dead run.

"Hold on. Don't take Freak Eyes down into the mines. The visiting officer wants to talk with him, up in Conference room A."

The Lucky 13 chapter one

a topic in Futuristic Roleplay, a part of the RPG forum.

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Re: The Lucky 13

Post a reply

Make a Donation

Who is online