The Rud'bul System

Three men walked through the modern art deco lobby. Two wore gray body armor trimmed in crimson that denotes CorpSec status. The last was frail and weak, the effect magnified between the armored officers. The slimmer of the two officers, Rolins, swept his shotgun in a rigid pattern. Each movement calculated. Behind him Lt. Cado checked Rolins' corners with his revolving handcannon, one hand on the prisoner.

The hotel is too still, too quiet. The repetitive piano music has a tendency to lull the senses into a false comfort. Cado recited the the precepts of the fourth dan to himself; There is flaw in form, not in function. Flaw in form, not in function.

Rolins checked his left, the shadow of a gun barrel appearing on his right. Cado fired quickly; one slug in the knee with a follow up shot to the cranium. The echoes of the gun blasts bounced off the vaulted ceiling as the assailants body crumpled to the ground. Animated shouts could be heard from hall to the left.

Cado shoved the prisoner toward an employee staircase. “Rolins, let's go.”

The harsh whisper jolted Rolins into action. He was more slender than the broad Cado, and light haired where the other was dark.

“That's at least six dead. Seven if you count the driver.” Rolins puffed out between short breaths.

“I don't. Comm traffic is hectic. If we find net access I could hail us a copter. “ Cado pulled up short at the arch for the 56th floor and peeked around the corner. A small bullet whistled past and buried itself in the opposite wall.

Cado fired a few return shots while their newest assailant spent his rounds. At the sound of a faint click Rolins burst from the arch and let loose three kinetic slugs. Cado saw only a red smear behind the desk as he passed. His eyes darted left to right with adrenaline heightened ferocity. They had exited the employee staircase into an administrative office.

The walls were a pastel blue, the only sound an old blues recording in an open office. They entered a long hallway of glass windows open and doors. Every office was empty. Cado stopped before a tech terminal in the next to lastt office, confident he had a few moments.

“Access in a building this old will be grounded. Let's see if I- watch him.” Cado indicated their still silent charge as the latter slumped against the wall. The prisoner was frail and weak. Though he looked like a man he had the physical fortitude of a child. This was not a job Cado relished.


His fingers deftly maneuvered a wire into place and snapped his multitool shut with a snap. Cado's PDA flickered to life with an amber light. He pressed a series of keys to give his location and request for evacuation. A crash came from a few rooms over. Rolins and Cado looked at one another and started in the opposite direction silently, the stumbling prisoner in tow.

Fifteen minutes passed and Rolins began to walk with a pronounced limp from a piece of shrapnel that pierced his armor his left side. All his shivering does nothing to stop the sweat. Cado leans against an ionic pillar and reloads his revolver one slug at a time in practiced, efficient movement.

Rolins laughed suddenly and it turned into a wheezing cough, specks of blood on his gauntlet as he pulled his hand down. “They're still filming. They're still bloody filming.”

Cado followed his gaze and felt his stomach drop. A vid drone hovered sixteen feet away. A white teardrop shaped shell with a large lens and a small red indicator that blinked like a silent metronome. He wondered idly if his dad or sisters watched day time television. Hopefully not. This would be hard enough to explain to Williams, she would be less than pleased.

Cado fired three quick shots in succession, his aim almost careless from fatigue. Someone yelped and there was a sharp hiss of pain. He almost smiled.

A sharp crackle sounded in their ears and both men flinched, well Rolins winced.

“Vitharr's harvest. Authorization Old Dog.” The voice was curt. Without emotion. Not even tense. Matter of fact. Cado would remember that the most in the days to come.

He looked to see Rolins' condition, his breath was shallow and short. None of the blood was black, which was better than it could have been. At least some of his organs had yet to be pierced.

Cado stood unsteadily and drew his sword. Modeled after the chinese dao, a straight-sword. This particular blade was the length of a dirk with three black wavy lines etched into the pommel. Cado made the prisoner stand and then forced him to his knees to face the vid drone as it floated nearby. He gripped the prisoner under the chin and turned his head so that his neck and shoulder were bare. With a single downward thrust Cado pierced the shoulder and armpit, severing a major artery.

His last thought as he ducked for cover was how wonderful coffee would be right about now.

Orion left the engineering bay of Jenna's ship, the Blackbird, making his way back to the bridge to see that the woman herself was still napping in her seat. The droid would have frowned at the sight were it physically possible, but he simply opted for making sounds as if he was clearing his throat until his partner awoke.

"Wha...? Oh, hey Ry," the hacker said blearily, letting out a yawn. "What's up? Did anyone answer our ad yet?"

"No, they did not," Orion responded tersely. "We cannot sit here in drydock forever; we need to find some work."

"Suuuuure, lemme just punch in coordinates to the next system. Oh wait, we can't do that because until the bridge is back up we have no choice but to sit around on our arses and wait for someone to bite. And they will. In a system with a political climate like this, there's bound to be some juicy contracts flying around. Just give it time."

As if on cue, the computer let out a happy-sounding chirp. An email. Jenna didn't hesitate to read through it, with Orion looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of the details. Something about looking for a team of operatives for a demolition job of some kind. "Hmm... not usually our thing, but what the hell. We need the cash, and ten thousand is good money. I can also put in a call to our mutual friend; this looks right up her alley."

After writing a brief reply accepting the job offer, along with the possible addition of an extra hand, Jenna set about making a call to said friend to offer them a chance to make some money...