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[Steel Samurai]

Steel's Note: This is intended to be a short sci-fi RPG in a similar vein to Cowboy Bebop or Firefly. Anyone is free to join, and there are no extra rules for this RPG. Just link to your character's profile when you make your first post. I am NOT going to make a detailed description of the technology available or the numerous alien species that may be encountered. That will be partially up to you guys.

It was 2100 when we met the Vorians. Beautiful, elegant aliens from the Orion cluster. They welcomed humanity with open arms, giving us technology, manpower, and the resources we so desperately needed. And they showed us the Visualization Drive, the greatest scientific breakthrough since we split the atom. But there was a heavy cost for their friendship. We couldn't have known at the time about the Scarecrows. . .


There are six inhabited systems in the Milky Way. Not thousands, as scientists once thought. Only six with planets suitable for the development of life. The Sol system, comprised of the five inhabited worlds loosely united into the Sol Alliance. The Orion Hegemony, made up of the seventeen Vorian worlds, and the four systems of the Callipsaren Imperium. We have contact with two other Galaxies, Andromeda and Magellan. It was from Magellan that the Scarecrows came. It took the six systems of the Milky Way one hundred years to fight off their incursions, and the loss was devastating. Our finest scientists spent the better part of their lives designing weapons designed to combat the unique scarecrow anatomy. In the two hundred years since then, we have made little use of our hard-won freedom. The Sol Alliance is riddled with corruption and graft, with those who give a damn about justice and fairness destined to spend their lives working at the bottom of the food chain. Because you can't make it in this galaxy as a human unless you always look out for number one. The Vorians showed us that much when they turned around and annexed half our colonies at the conclusion of the war. After we spent our bones and blood fighting alongside them. The Alliance had to comply. We didn't have the resources to fight a war against our one-time benefactors. And that's how it stands. Every man for himself, just trying to make enough credits to get by.


Gunner Logan

* * * *


The scene was oddly familiar. Gunner sat coolly behind the table at the bar, his hand resting lightly on his weapon. He smirked at the bulbous alien in front of him.

"Tell Havva I'll get him his money next week. I haven't been paid for the Hvor run by my employer yet."

"Huuuuuman. You pay NOW."

"I told you, I don't have the money."

"Havva tell me to kill you if you not pay . . . I know what you do to Seedo's brother. I know you kill him for credi . . ."

Gunner rose from the table, leaving a ten-credit note as a tip, and walked out through the colored light forcefield. No one paid the slightest attention to him. This was Mars, after all, not Titan with its tight security and rule of law. It was nearly half an hour before the bartender noticed the trickle of blood coming out from underneath the table. He sighed, and walked over. Seedo had been a good customer. Bad idea of him to take on Gunner Logan. He pulled the alien back, admiring the way the slim blade had pierced the alien's heart, located in its abdomen, at the perfect angle to kill quickly and without much mess. It would take Havva's men at least an hour to get here if he informed them now. The man looked at the clock. Fifty minutes and he was off. He could wait a little while to report the incident to the local crime boss. No one would know the difference.


* * * *


Gunner sat down at the bar of the Jessica Rabbit, a seedy nightclub around a half a block away from the Lucas Cantina he had just left. He sighed. Finding a woman who wasn't a stripper or hooker in this part of town was hard enough by itself, without the added stress of having to replace nearly half his crew. The smuggling run between Mars and the space station orbiting Mercury was a tough one, but he had made it back without losing a single man. Unfortunately most of them seemed to think that one life or death run was enough, and had taken their credits and left. The bartender passed him his drink, a Flaming Susan. Gunner took a sip, examining those around him in the reflective alloyed container. Oho . . . There was something to make his night worthwhile. A human and Vorian woman had just stepped through the door. Gunner waited, a knowing smile upon his lips. They took their seats next to him, just as he had anticipated.

"You know ladies, you really should have picked a less seedy club than this . . ."

Crew recruitment could wait.

Edited by Steel Samurai, 06 July 2010 - 12:25 AM.

[J-Roc]

Dre "Sly" Magnus

Sly drummed his fingers on the table impatiently, the various scum of the Jessica Rabbit rotating around him, women asking him if he had a date for the evening men asking him for a spare credit, Vorians eying him suspiciously.

Creatures came in and out, and Magnus noted them all. Right now he was waiting for his customer, and as it always was with customers, he was late. He drummed his fingers on the table, checking the time... perhaps too often. He focused himself, he didn't want to draw too much attention. But he was becoming agitated, people came and went in this place and it didn't seem to be the best place to be doing what he was doing.

A human and Vorian strolled into the bar and sat beside another man, he looked like he might have served in the war. These were the type of people that Sly cared about, people who had served. But right now he could only worry about himself. The laws on this planet might not make him sweat but right now he was dealing on someone else's turf. This whole thing stunk like a set up. Hawa was late, so unlike that greasy bastard...

A strong pull on his arm, he turned two see two Vorians, one with his gun drawn and pointed low, nice and discreet.

"You Sly?" the Vorian bellowed.

"Depending on my mood, I can be," he winked, and without a moments pause he pulled his side arm and blasted the Vorian in the face, the blast tossing him across the bar and straight through a table, dead before he even hit the ground.

This whole thing stunk like a set up and now he knew why, Hawa wasn't a customer, Hawa was the competition.

The other Vorian pulled his gun and Sly didn't hesitate, tackling him to the ground. The whole bar was watching now, and the only question Sly had was how he was going to get the hell out of dodge alive.

Edited by Sharpy, 28 June 2010 - 05:52 PM.

[Steel Samurai]

"So my crew had all been killed or lost, and I was there, in the middle of this gang of Scarecrow pirates, without a gun, tied to a chair. I tell you, I thought I was done for for sure." The two females leaned forward intently, one pair of brown eyes, one pair of solid blue orbs gazing into his own dark brown eyes. Vorians didn't have irises and the "white" of their eyes was always the same color as the pupil. Which was, invariably, a shade of blue which perfectly matched their green skin. "Then, this Vorian woman comes up. She had a patch on one eye, and she looks at me and smiles a little. Like a bit of a smirk, you know?"

"And then? What happened then?" That was the human girl. Her voice was a bit annoying, but damn, that rack . . .

"I'll tell you exactly what happened cutie, as soon as I have another scotch." He signaled the bartender, a Groret with a bad case of dermatitis. The alien's tentacles wrapped around a clear bottle and poured a small amount of the amber liquid in a blue glass, then handed it to Gunner. The bounty hunter lifted the glass to his lips, when a Vorian slammed into him, knocking his drink from his hand. The alien slid a few more meters before it stopped, a gaping hole in his head. Wait. He knew that alien. That was one of Hawa's protectors. The second alien was on the ground, being choked by a human Gunner didn't recognize. He was stocky, but carried himself like a soldier. An ex-soldier, if he was dealing with Hawa. Hmm. Whatever his job had been in the military, he could be a useful crew member.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me for just a moment . . ."

Gunner kicked aside the broken chair in front of him and stepped coolly over to where the human and the Vorian were wrestling on the ground. Hawa would already be after his head after the incident with Seedo. May as well make an ally while he was at it. The Vorian was on top now, trying to get a good grip on the human's throat. It was likely the blonde one would have won that fight, but it would be too late by then. Hawa's lieutenant, Julie, had probably already been informed of the altercation. Gunner grabbed the red flaps of skin on the Vorian's head that looked almost like hair and pulled the alien's head up.

THUD.

The heel of Gunner's heavy, titanium capped boot connected solidly with the alien's cheek. Something crunched. Gunner dragged the lighter and shorter alien to its feet and smashed his fist into the Vorian's sensitive nose. The green-skinned protector fell to the ground. Gunner reached down and offered his hand to the Human.

"Name's Gunner. How'd you get mixed up with Hawa."

The rest of the bar returned to their drinks.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

Alexander "Alek" Y. Lunokhod


The Jessica Rabbit. This was the place.

Alek took a step into the nightclub, taking a a look around. The most obvious center of attraction was the two guys nonchalantly . He slowly made his way around until he found the person he was looking for sitting in a dark corner. Black jacket, long brown hair, big green earrings... Yeah, that was her.

Unzipping his right breast pocket, Alek pulled out a small stack of data cards, laying them on the table.

"Here, that was what I was given," he spoke to the woman.

The woman eyed him before reaching over to take the cards. She took out some sort of hand held device from her pockets, expertly inserting a card into the device with one hand while turning it on, her other hand beneath the table. The light of a monitor lit up her face, and a smirk could be seen briskly crossing her expressing. She then removed the card, replacing it with another.

"Can I be paid now?" Alek asked with some exhaustion.

The woman gave Alek an annoyed look, her "free" arm tensing up under the table.

"You get paid when I know it's all legit. You can afford to wait," she spoke coldly.

Impatient, Alek crossed his arms but waited silently as the woman worked her way through the data cards. He let loose a sigh when she finally laid down the device, reaching for what he hoped was his compensation.

"You better check your attitude mooncalf, there are a lot of people who don't take kindly to that sort of tone," the woman criticized.

"Alek. My name is Alek," Alek attempted to correct. Why did people keep calling him that?

"Like I give a damn," the woman callously responded, as she slapped down some credit notes on the table.

Alek picked up the notes, counting through them to his satisfaction.

"Thank you."

"Hmph, whatever. Just remember to ask around for a Miss Dark if you need more work, my little mooncalf," the woman spoke, her parting words lacking the iciness of her previous.

Alek walked up to the bar, ordering a cheap drink. He glanced down at the gun holstered on his right hip, mentally calculating what he had left. He had used up about a magazine and a half of ammo fending off of some unseemly types who really wanted those data cards, which was a magazine and a half more than he would have wanted to use. Only a few mags left by now. He had a difficult enough time getting money for food and drink, and ammo was hardly inexpensive.

Alek took a sip of his drink, wondering if he was ever going to get off this planet.


(OOC: For full clarification, "mooncalf" is intended to be an ethnic slur.)

[J-Roc]

It wasn't that he was ungrateful, Sly just found himself agitated by the sheer cockiness of the man, and as he clasped his hand and slid to his feet he took a quick glance but spied nothing in the bar to indicate they were in danger.

"Thanks for not getting that bastard's brains on me, laddie," Sly grinned, knowing a meal ticket and a way out when he saw it, "You a cappin', mister?"

The response was interrupted, as a shot rang out.

Sly knew it was the cavalry, and as he rolled across the bar getting ready for a shoot out he knew his new friend was in the fight too.

Damn Hawa you two timing mooncalf, he thought as he released the safety.

[Steel Samurai]

Logan's response was drowned out by the blast of a shotgun coming from the other side of the forcefield. Julie, Julie, Julie. So impatient. Can't even wait till the target is in sight to start shooting. Gunner drew his pistol from its leather holster and jumped over the bar, shoving glasses and bottles to the floor as he went. Resting his arm on the top of the bar, he gripped his pistol tightly with his right hand, pointing it directly towards the opaque forcefield that served as a door. Any second now . . . There. Julie herself, accompanied by four of Hawa's Vorian enforcers. Damn Huff. Only hired human females and male Vorians. Some kinda fucked up tastes, that marslord.

Galactic Encyclopedia Entry: MarsLord

Species name: Hivington Underterrain Fuldar Fourens, colloquially known as "Huffs". The sole intelligent species found by humans on the planet Mars shortly after colonization, they were dubbed the MarsLord due to their bulk and position at the top of the subterranean martian foodchain. Though slightly less intelligent than the average human, MarsLords were, nonetheless, vicious and brutal hunters, slithering through the tunnels crisscrossing the planet. A rogue human scientist experimenting on the species managed to augment their intelligence to above average human levels using genetic nanomachines. Over the course of a couple generations, the marslords established themselves as leaders of crime syndicates throughout mars. Unable to survive on the surface, they run their empires from caverns deep below the surface, relying on enforcers of other species to carry out their wishes. Most marslords are unmodified, however, the natural marslords have retreated further into the planet's interior to avoid conflict with the rapidly expanding human settlements.

The Jessica Rabbit was silent. Here it comes. Gunner thought to himself.

"Gunner Logan. I should've known." Julie tossed her firey red hair as she spoke.

"You got what you were hoping for."

"Hoping? You are the last man on the face of the system that I wanted to see again."

"C'mon Jules. You know you enjoyed it."

"You know what I enjoyed? Seeing your sorry ass gone the next morning. You know why? Because it meant that I wouldn't have to deal with your bullshit anymore!" Julie had gone from calm and collected to a raving madwoman in exactly .3 seconds. And this Gunner thought, this is why it never would've worked out between us.

"I'm a free spirit babe. That's why you liked me to begin with. I can't stay tied down to one place or woman for long."

"You could've stayed longer than one night! After all that talk of seeing the stars together too!"

"Yeah, well, Hawa didn't see it that way I'm afraid. Look sweetheart, I'll make you a deal. Get your enforcers to put down their guns, come with me, and we'll go flying in the Samurai Jack together. Just you and me for a little bit of star-time."

Gunner ducked instinctively as a pistol bullet smashed into the bottle-shelf behind him. He looked at his companion.

"It was worth a shot, right?"

"Kill them both!" Julie's high voice shrieked an order to the men, and the bar erupted in a storm of gunfire. Gunner forgot about his companion for a moment, losing himself in the rhythm of the battle. Up, shoot, duck. Up, shoot, duck. It was seconds before Julie was the only one of Hawa's men left standing, hand bleeding from where someone had shot her assault rifle from it. Gunner drew a blade from his boot, and as Hawa's favored enforcer began to draw her pistol from its holster on her side, he popped up from behind the bar and threw it.

The blade embedded itself in her right shoulder, the force of the throw knocking her to the ground. In a flash, Gunner was over the bar counter and straddling her prone body.

"Julie sweetheart, I'm sorry it had to come to this." He pulled the blade from her shoulder, quickly, to avoid pain. She grunted through gritted teeth, staring red murder at him with her hazel eyes.

"I need to get moving now honey, but I promise I'll drop in next time I come through here to check up on you." He winked, bent down, and kissed her lightly on the nose, then got to his feet and began to walk away.

"Not so fast you sonuvabitch." the tone of the words belied the unpleasantness of their meaning. Gunner turned, slowly, expecting a pistol in his face. Julie leapt toward him, bringing him to the ground. He looked up at her, raising one eyebrow in a humorously questioning manner.

"You're a fool, Gunner Logan." She kissed him, passionately, then got up and hobbled out of the bar.

Gunner cleared his throat and turned to the bar.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I happen to be looking to crew my ship, the Samurai Jack. If you think you've got what it takes to be a bounty hunter, and want to earn some creds, well, I'll be at the spaceport till the morning."

He turned and walked out of the bar.

[J-Roc]

Sly picked the pockets quickly, going through the uniform pockets in a rhythmic fashion that allowed him to collect a vast quantity of credits after Gunner played true to what Sly suspected was his ex-black ops standard training. Or at least that's how it looked to Sly, he'd never been in a gunfight where he didn't have to fire a single round.

The invitation to join his crew was heard throughout the bar and the mumblings and grumblings of indecisive Martian people filled the room. Work was a rare commodity to come around and many a man on Mars could be counted on to jump onto a ship to get off of this dusty rock.

Sly figured Gunner a smart man for coming up through here, and even if he was a smuggler, or worse, he was the best route out of here at the moment. Sly felt that perhaps his time upon the Samurai Jack might be tumultuous, but the risk was worth it at this point.

He stepped over the downed villains in the doorway as the conversation became more excited as some semblance of a crew began fashioning itself in the tavern.

Stepping out into the street after Gunner Sly fired up a cigarette, "Dis's gonna be bloody brilliant, I bet!" he said to himself.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

After all the excitement was over with, Alek pulled himself out of the space between the stools, his improvised hiding spot during the fight that had occurred.

With that Gunner man leaving, Alek kept his ears open, listening to the conversations around him. He himself contemplated joining that man, but would the risk be worth it? He was an engineer, not a bounty hunter. He held no desire for a high risk job, he just wanted to get enough credits to return to Luna, to find a way back into Mare Serenitatis...

Alek sighed, his mind full of delusions of returning to that place. The more sensible part of him quietly reminded him that was forbidden from returning, and that he was dumped on Mars to show just how much he was not desired. But another part of him loudly protested against such cynicism. Mare Serenitatis was a perfect place, the state needed him and he needed the state. He could not truly be forbidden from going back, he belonged there!

Yeah, that was it. He would just have to play it safe. No need to risk his life. He would just need to find a steady way to live. Sure, he had not found anyplace that wanted him so far, but could not last forever. He had enough credits for a few more days. Just had to wait.

Yet, hours later, there Alek was. He sat in the wait area of the spaceport, a cord coming from his wrist stuck in one of the public infonet jack ports. He was slouched back, his expression appearing aloof, though that was only because he was mentally focused on processing the data he was getting.

The Samurai Jack, owned by one Gunner Logan.

Alek disconnected himself from the infonet port, his vision briefly flashing white as his eyes adjusted back to being put into use. He looked in the general direction of where the Samurai Jack would be, the ship's landing pad number and location having been stored in his head.

The opportunity still stood at hand.

He had to take it.

There were no other guarantees.

"Playing it safe" would be more risky than taking this chance.

This was a chance to finally move.

It was right there.

All that was left was to go forward.

With the night starting to break for the morning, Alek ran to the Samurai Jack, to his last best bet.

[Steel Samurai]

OOC: Sorry for the delay guys, was rounding up some support. I hope. Also, I totally didn't mean to make it seem like Gunner was some ridiculous shot. I just wanted things to be over so we could get on


Logan leaned against the inner hull of the cargo bay of the Jack, casually spraying the inside of a cup with a microfreeze device. A thin layer of ice quickly formed on the top. He lifted the tin utensil to his nose and took a whiff. Not a scent. Good. He took a small, cylindrical device about the size of a pen from his coat, placed it over the cap of ice, and pressed a button on the top. So quick the eye couldn't see, a needle jabbed down through the ice and retracted into the cylinder. Gunner placed the cylinder just above his right tricep and pressed the button again. The tiny needle jabbed through the trenchcoat without leaving a mark. He sighed as the icy pleasure of Hvor hit his veins. Some took it lukewarm, but for Gunner there was no greater pleasure than that of an ice cold hit of the drug. Not even sex could compare to it, much as he loved pleasuring the females of the system. He motioned to Sly, his speech unaffected, though he could feel the narcotic spreading through his body.

"Cockpit's for'ard. Tripper's aft. She's called the Scarlett Johansson You can give her a spin while I go collect some supplies."

The Tripper was a small, quick, one seater suborbital plane, suitable for quick runs to the surface of a planet to pick up a small cargo. The Scarlett was equipped with two concealed cannons firing quarter inch shells. The guns were invisible to authorities giving the ship a once over, though any thorough examination would reveal their existence.

"I'll be back in an hour or so. Don't try to steal anything, Lara will have you locked down before you can say please." He winked at the pilot as he strode out of the cargo bay onto the red martian soil. Lara was the ship's onboard navigational shackled A.I., standard on nearly all spaceworthy vessels. Gunner paused for a moment. There was someone running towards the ship. It was that kid from the bar. The Lunarian. Gunner looked him up and down, appraising him. Cybered all to hell. Typical. Bet he was a whiz on the net though. He wanted to join the crew, Gunner could tell. Ne'er do wells had been dropping by all evening, but none of them seemed really right for the ship. Alek approached. Gunner said only four words, then walked off.

"Come with me kid."

They headed towards the red-light district, dirty oil-slicked jumpsuits of the dock gradually giving way to the tarnished glamor of those who prowled the night. Gunner wasn't familiar with the area, he had never needed the services of a prostitute, but his contact had told him that the best arms dealer on Mars could be found at the Jameson Men's Club between twelve and two AM. Spook was his name. Spook Doggard.

They found the Jameson around fifteen minutes later, a gaudy, colorfully lighted facade hiding a plain grey concrete building. Gunner stepped in, paid the attendant, and looked down at Alek.

"First time in one of these, kid?" He wasn't sure how old the Lunarian was, but he looked so . . . naive. So innocent. A rare quality outside gated planets like Titan or Luna.

Fourth table from the front, his contact had said. Which, incidentally, was the back of the establishment. There he was. Gunner quietly pulled a seat up next to the man who must be Spook Doggard, and said in a low voice:

"I hear you can help me get what I need."

He motioned with his head for Alek to pull up a chair.

[J-Roc]

Scarlett was a beauty, and Sly smiled slowly as he appraised the model. Her two giant cannons attacked his eyes but he saw there was more to her than just something skin deep. He'd have some fun in this model, everything considered.

He tried not to show any emotion as he watched his new commander shoot up Hvor, and despite the insistence of many of the tweakers he'd met in his travel Sly had decided long ago that a man who could be influenced chemically was a man not to be trusted.

Gunner gave him the run-down, as well as something of a lecture on the virtues of stealing from him before strolling back towards town. Sly gave a grunt, and then climbed aboard the Scarlett. He observed everything slowly, noting the similarities between this model and the ship previously commissioned to him during his service.

Not only were these smaller ships good for evading, but they were great for getting people out of hot spots, something that Sly knew all too much about. And though he lost many, he saved many more during the War.

After double checking the empty cargo hold for any concealed treasures, Sly slid behind the controls and fired up yet another cigarette. He was smoking more often than usual, but understood that he was tense because his new compatriots seemed to have more secrets than they were willing to share.

Pulling back on the yoke the engines on the ship powered up quickly and quietly, and before it even seemed natural Sly had the ship off the ground. He slid into orbit over the planet and quickly noticed them.

Sol Alliance Police rarely if ever traveled in marked units, in the cold vastness of space keeping a low profile was very important, something that Sly took to heart as he managed to stay out of their sight line and off of their sensors. Judging by their altitude and general disposition it certainly seemed that trouble was brewing on the red planet.

The two Mark V Patrol units were scouring the planet with their sensors, and Sly for a moment considered simply blasting them and gathering his crew to make a break for it, but just before he could analyze the situation fully he noticed two more Mark V units being led in by a Mark I. Sly cringed, as he retracted his cannons, this was a human led operation, and it would certainly get ugly fast. Nobody, but nobody in their right mind would try to stop the criminal activity on this planet, it simply wouldn't be worth the loss of life.

No, it certainly seemed like they had someone very particular in mind, and Sly was pretty sure who.

"Logan, Gunner, 'dis is the Scarlett Johansson, multiple contacts under radar recommend immediate evac status priority alpha."

Sly smirked, he'd heard the line screamed to him by many a doomed comrade but never delivered it himself. But they were screwed, and the longer they sat there the worse it would get.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

"Come with me kid."

Not even so much as an introduction. Alek was taken aback by this immediate command. Could he possibly have already been accepted as a crew member? Despite being startled by such suddenness, Alek went along, wordlessly following behind Gunner.

Although this had been thrust upon him, Alek held a little hope in joining this crew. The possibility of finding a way home was a definite goal, but that was not all. Belonging to a crew, a group, would help bring some stability back into his life. So, Alek continued to follow behind Gunner, following him straight into a--

"First time in one of these kid?"

At first not understanding what Gunner meant, Alek's normally pale face briefly took on the red of a blush when he saw the main source of entertainment the Jameson offered. His sight was transfixed, following the show while his legs blindly followed Gunner. After having a little trouble with his footing, Alek managed to break his sight away and concentrated on his theoretical leader. Still, his eyes kept darting away to their point of interest.

"I hear you can help me get what I need."

Alek took his seat, trying to figure out what exactly Gunner meant by bringing him along to this place. He realized though that, whatever the reason, he would have to show discipline. Alek steeled himself and wordlessly listened as he kept his eyes on the man he would know as Spook.

[Goose]

BAM!

Bam was asleep on one of the ships beds. He was a heavy sleeper. (In more ways than one, BaM! did it again, Bam!)

Looks like he was about to be an accidental stowaway...