Judgement – Best Served Cold: The Appetizer - Part 2
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek
Post Details
::ON::
[OLD]
Carrex said nothing, but you could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. There was a tenseness in him now, the cobra coiling to spring.
Draylin didn't say anything, simply taking out a padd and typing a few things into it as he sat down, keeping one eye on Carrex.
Unbelievably, the corpulent denobulan was quicker, and Draylin found himself fixed to his chair.
[NEW]
"Restraining field," Carrex said smugly. "I'm not so stupid as to let you into my inner sanctum without precautions, Draylin Tal."
Draylin felt a surge of adrenaline at being caught and began to struggle with uncharacteristic urgency against his restraints.
Carrex came around his desk with a jovial smile. "I'm disappointed, Mr Tal. From everything I've heard, I was expecting this to be difficult." He flicked a hidden switch on the chair, and gravity coils beneath it came to life. Carrex wheeled Draylin from the office and down an antiseptic corridor to a small laboratory.
The Denobulan parked Draylin and began to busy himself with a hypospray.
Realising that struggling was getting him nowhere, Draylin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he stared down the sterile corridor and the glass doors at the end, the familiarity of the feeling sending chills through his veins.
"If it's any consolation, this transaction is worth an extremely large consideration. I strongly believe you will become one of my best sellers. You have a lot of marketable qualities, wrapped up in that beautiful double helix of yours."
Draylin didn't reply, simply looking around the corridor, anywhere his eyesight could react to try and find some way of getting out of this situation. By now his heart was pumping loudly in his chest.
"Indeed, people like you come along very rarely. You're a very unique specimen Mr tal. Compelled to kill, no conscience, no guilt. Just that alone is worth bricks on the augmentation market. But when we add in your skill at it..." Carrex placed a tray on the bench next to his prisoner. As well as the hypospray, it contained a pair of scissors and several long steel needles attached to sample extractors. "Just a little something to keep you still. Don't want you struggling when I pull those stem cells out." He pressed the hypospray against Draylin's neck. In the quiet of the lab, it sounded like the whole place was depressurising.
His captor sat back and looked at him whilst he waited for the drugs to kick in. "But between you and me, I suspect it's those beautiful eyes that will make me the most money. Too many small thinkers just see the cosmetic benefits of augmentation. Sad but true. Inside your cells is a veritable goldmine of martial applications, and yet that white hair will be what I'm asked for. But no matter, eh?" He patted Draylin on the cheek. "If it brings in the cash. And it will. After this is over, I may actually end up owing Mr. Quint, rather than the other way round."
After a moment, Draylin felt himself getting a little drowsy, his limps gaining weight suddenly as the medication began to take affect.
Deciding his victim was now unconscious and fully pliant, Carrex clapped his hands together. No response. Good. "Right, lets get on with it." He reached to another hidden switch on the chair, and turned off the restraining field. "DNA doesn't collect itself." Picking up the scissors he made a snip over Draylin's knee and cut the fabric open up to the hip. He needed a clean shot at the femur, and the stemcell rich marrow it contained. Dropping the scissors on the tray he selected a long unbending needle. Lining it up over Draylin's leg, he took a steadying breath, and raised his arm.
Suddenly, Draylin's eyes flew open and he kicked out, hitting the Denobulan in the chest with such adrenalin fueled strength, his chest bone fractured. He jumped out of the chair, shaking his head slightly to clear it fully before he advanced on Carrex, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pushing him down onto the floor. Though his mind's intent was clear, the El Aurian seemed to be working on autopilot, his vision obscured by rage and something else (panic? fear? He couldn't be sure). He grabbed for the first thing he could on the tray of medical devices, which turned out to be not so sharp or convenient. He held it tightly and proceeded to stab repeatedly at Carrex.
It wasn't until minutes later that Draylin found his mind clearing sufficiently enough to realise what he'd done by looking down at himself and finding that his entire front was covered in blood, including his arms up to their elbows. He looked around, his eyes pausing momentarily on Carrex's unidentifiable, mutilated remains. Draylin himself was in a corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. It took him a moment to realise he was shaking like a leaf, unsure exactly from what. He pulled himself slowly and shakily up to his feet.
The denobulan's corpse, long tongue protuding across his face and onto the floor, was mostly pulp. The scissors stood proudly from the remains of one eye socket. The tissue samplers were buried up to the hilt in a chest that had been reduced to a pulpy mass barely held together by its skin bag. The room was silent. He couldn't hear anything but the thunder of his own pulse and the ragged heaving of his own breath. The blood, no longer pushed out by systolic pulsing, just oozed outward powered by volume and gravity to slowly seep in chaotic directions across the pristine white floor.
Draylin's mind seemed to go into another state of autopilot as it tried to block out what had just almost happened. He felt himself walking over to the nearest computer console and, typing away, blood smearing on the keys, he downloaded the date from the computer onto a data disk. He walked passed the corpse, not paying it any attention anymore and walked to the nearby decontamination chamber to get cleaned up.
Two hours later, he found himself resterilising the lab, making sure any trace of himself was gone before going to back to the main room. Taking out the now bloodless data disk, Draylin slipped it into Carrex's personal computer, hacking into it almost too easily before downloading all the information he could on the operation the Denobulan was running - names, places, victims, projects, the works. Putting on some clean clothes he replicated, Draylin tossed his cleaned ones into the recycler, getting rid of them for good.
His mind only began reacting more consciously when he was well into the main Promenade. He looked around, as if realising where he was for the first time in the last few hours. He made his way calmly and slowly up to the upper levels where he knew Tarver's apartment was. He didn't bother ringing the chime, instead opening the nearby console and bypassing the security behind it, which was lacking on this part of the station as it was. When the doors slid open, he walked inside.
Quints face went through a cornucopia of emotions; fear, surprise, relief, even awe. "You're back?!"
Draylin nodded, looking around the small apartment. He eyes grazed over a familiar looking wooden case before returning to Tarver. "So, what? Debt? Is that why you sold me out?"
Tarver nodded. "It's like I said. He cleans you out with a ringer, and then wants something in return. Usually it's organs. Occasionally it's children. This time it was you. And as I said, I'm attached to my skin."
"Yes, well..." Draylin trailed off, walking over to the wooden chest and opening it to reveal the blade he'd almost lost his life for. "I think we both know what might make this a bit easier," he said pointedly, taking out the blade.
Tarver looked rattled. "Look mate, you'd have done exactly the same in my place. Nothing personal. Just business."
Draylin nodded. "You know. I'm around 300 years old. I've been through Hell; I've killed a lot of people in some of the most creative ways you could probably think of," he told Tarver, his voice cold as he walked up to him slowly. "I've hung around rich businessmen and around most types of outcasts...But I have never actually sunk so low as you. You don't deserve to live." With that, and one swift movement, Draylin slid the blade through the air and Tarver's neck, severing his lifeline as easily as his head.
Quint's body fell next to his head. The blood was more energetic in its exit than it was from Carrex. It made the small room seem hot and humid, and sweaty, the rich red splatters looking more like dirt and old stains than blood.
Draylin took a deep breath and he swore for a moment he could taste the metal of Quint's blood. He cleaned the blade and put it into its chest before taking it by its handle and walking out, making sure to step over the pooling blood.
"Freeze!" Shouted a voice. "Hands where we can see them."
TBC....
A JP Between
Draylin Tal, professional hitman
NPC by Maja
&
Dr Carrex, denobulan organ trader
NPCs by Notty
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek
Post Details
| Title | Best Served Cold: The Appetizer - Part 2 | |
| Mission | Judgement | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek | |
| Posted | Thu Jul 07, 2011 @ 3:24pm | |
| Location | the Floating Market, Altair Four | |
| Timeline | two and a half years ago |
[OLD]
Carrex said nothing, but you could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. There was a tenseness in him now, the cobra coiling to spring.
Draylin didn't say anything, simply taking out a padd and typing a few things into it as he sat down, keeping one eye on Carrex.
Unbelievably, the corpulent denobulan was quicker, and Draylin found himself fixed to his chair.
[NEW]
"Restraining field," Carrex said smugly. "I'm not so stupid as to let you into my inner sanctum without precautions, Draylin Tal."
Draylin felt a surge of adrenaline at being caught and began to struggle with uncharacteristic urgency against his restraints.
Carrex came around his desk with a jovial smile. "I'm disappointed, Mr Tal. From everything I've heard, I was expecting this to be difficult." He flicked a hidden switch on the chair, and gravity coils beneath it came to life. Carrex wheeled Draylin from the office and down an antiseptic corridor to a small laboratory.
The Denobulan parked Draylin and began to busy himself with a hypospray.
Realising that struggling was getting him nowhere, Draylin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he stared down the sterile corridor and the glass doors at the end, the familiarity of the feeling sending chills through his veins.
"If it's any consolation, this transaction is worth an extremely large consideration. I strongly believe you will become one of my best sellers. You have a lot of marketable qualities, wrapped up in that beautiful double helix of yours."
Draylin didn't reply, simply looking around the corridor, anywhere his eyesight could react to try and find some way of getting out of this situation. By now his heart was pumping loudly in his chest.
"Indeed, people like you come along very rarely. You're a very unique specimen Mr tal. Compelled to kill, no conscience, no guilt. Just that alone is worth bricks on the augmentation market. But when we add in your skill at it..." Carrex placed a tray on the bench next to his prisoner. As well as the hypospray, it contained a pair of scissors and several long steel needles attached to sample extractors. "Just a little something to keep you still. Don't want you struggling when I pull those stem cells out." He pressed the hypospray against Draylin's neck. In the quiet of the lab, it sounded like the whole place was depressurising.
His captor sat back and looked at him whilst he waited for the drugs to kick in. "But between you and me, I suspect it's those beautiful eyes that will make me the most money. Too many small thinkers just see the cosmetic benefits of augmentation. Sad but true. Inside your cells is a veritable goldmine of martial applications, and yet that white hair will be what I'm asked for. But no matter, eh?" He patted Draylin on the cheek. "If it brings in the cash. And it will. After this is over, I may actually end up owing Mr. Quint, rather than the other way round."
After a moment, Draylin felt himself getting a little drowsy, his limps gaining weight suddenly as the medication began to take affect.
Deciding his victim was now unconscious and fully pliant, Carrex clapped his hands together. No response. Good. "Right, lets get on with it." He reached to another hidden switch on the chair, and turned off the restraining field. "DNA doesn't collect itself." Picking up the scissors he made a snip over Draylin's knee and cut the fabric open up to the hip. He needed a clean shot at the femur, and the stemcell rich marrow it contained. Dropping the scissors on the tray he selected a long unbending needle. Lining it up over Draylin's leg, he took a steadying breath, and raised his arm.
Suddenly, Draylin's eyes flew open and he kicked out, hitting the Denobulan in the chest with such adrenalin fueled strength, his chest bone fractured. He jumped out of the chair, shaking his head slightly to clear it fully before he advanced on Carrex, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pushing him down onto the floor. Though his mind's intent was clear, the El Aurian seemed to be working on autopilot, his vision obscured by rage and something else (panic? fear? He couldn't be sure). He grabbed for the first thing he could on the tray of medical devices, which turned out to be not so sharp or convenient. He held it tightly and proceeded to stab repeatedly at Carrex.
It wasn't until minutes later that Draylin found his mind clearing sufficiently enough to realise what he'd done by looking down at himself and finding that his entire front was covered in blood, including his arms up to their elbows. He looked around, his eyes pausing momentarily on Carrex's unidentifiable, mutilated remains. Draylin himself was in a corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. It took him a moment to realise he was shaking like a leaf, unsure exactly from what. He pulled himself slowly and shakily up to his feet.
The denobulan's corpse, long tongue protuding across his face and onto the floor, was mostly pulp. The scissors stood proudly from the remains of one eye socket. The tissue samplers were buried up to the hilt in a chest that had been reduced to a pulpy mass barely held together by its skin bag. The room was silent. He couldn't hear anything but the thunder of his own pulse and the ragged heaving of his own breath. The blood, no longer pushed out by systolic pulsing, just oozed outward powered by volume and gravity to slowly seep in chaotic directions across the pristine white floor.
Draylin's mind seemed to go into another state of autopilot as it tried to block out what had just almost happened. He felt himself walking over to the nearest computer console and, typing away, blood smearing on the keys, he downloaded the date from the computer onto a data disk. He walked passed the corpse, not paying it any attention anymore and walked to the nearby decontamination chamber to get cleaned up.
Two hours later, he found himself resterilising the lab, making sure any trace of himself was gone before going to back to the main room. Taking out the now bloodless data disk, Draylin slipped it into Carrex's personal computer, hacking into it almost too easily before downloading all the information he could on the operation the Denobulan was running - names, places, victims, projects, the works. Putting on some clean clothes he replicated, Draylin tossed his cleaned ones into the recycler, getting rid of them for good.
His mind only began reacting more consciously when he was well into the main Promenade. He looked around, as if realising where he was for the first time in the last few hours. He made his way calmly and slowly up to the upper levels where he knew Tarver's apartment was. He didn't bother ringing the chime, instead opening the nearby console and bypassing the security behind it, which was lacking on this part of the station as it was. When the doors slid open, he walked inside.
Quints face went through a cornucopia of emotions; fear, surprise, relief, even awe. "You're back?!"
Draylin nodded, looking around the small apartment. He eyes grazed over a familiar looking wooden case before returning to Tarver. "So, what? Debt? Is that why you sold me out?"
Tarver nodded. "It's like I said. He cleans you out with a ringer, and then wants something in return. Usually it's organs. Occasionally it's children. This time it was you. And as I said, I'm attached to my skin."
"Yes, well..." Draylin trailed off, walking over to the wooden chest and opening it to reveal the blade he'd almost lost his life for. "I think we both know what might make this a bit easier," he said pointedly, taking out the blade.
Tarver looked rattled. "Look mate, you'd have done exactly the same in my place. Nothing personal. Just business."
Draylin nodded. "You know. I'm around 300 years old. I've been through Hell; I've killed a lot of people in some of the most creative ways you could probably think of," he told Tarver, his voice cold as he walked up to him slowly. "I've hung around rich businessmen and around most types of outcasts...But I have never actually sunk so low as you. You don't deserve to live." With that, and one swift movement, Draylin slid the blade through the air and Tarver's neck, severing his lifeline as easily as his head.
Quint's body fell next to his head. The blood was more energetic in its exit than it was from Carrex. It made the small room seem hot and humid, and sweaty, the rich red splatters looking more like dirt and old stains than blood.
Draylin took a deep breath and he swore for a moment he could taste the metal of Quint's blood. He cleaned the blade and put it into its chest before taking it by its handle and walking out, making sure to step over the pooling blood.
"Freeze!" Shouted a voice. "Hands where we can see them."
TBC....
A JP Between
Draylin Tal, professional hitman
NPC by Maja
&
Dr Carrex, denobulan organ trader
NPCs by Notty