jchrisobrien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jchrisobrien) wrote2003-06-07 12:49 am
jchrisobrien) wrote2003-06-07 12:49 am
Futureperfect: Epicenter
Malcolm shuddered to consciousness. He blinked his eyes and glanced at his fellow peacekeepers, sitting in the small hold of the skimmer as it cut smoothly through the night air over the City. Information bared in his ear from the speakers in his helmet. They were investigating a hovercraft that had veered off course. All attempts to hail it were ignored, automatic override attempts had failed. Beside him his men were checking their instrument belts, readying weapons, and hand computers. They moved quickly and confidently in the dimly lit hold, they had trained for this, and traded jokes under their breath. Malcolm reached into a pouch in his belt and pulled two white capsules out. He stared at them, and then took a third and dry swallowed them.
He felt the skimmer tilt slightly, then steady itself. A quick glance at a wall monitor showed the broad dark back of the hovercraft, the pilots were directly over it. The skimmer they flew in was cloaked against radar, and its dull black exterior renders it all but invisible to the naked eye. Malcolm put his helmet on, then sent the ready signal to his men. They rose and stood by the drop hatch in the center of the floor. Small letters scrolled across the bottom of his helmet’s visor, indicating his suit’s computer was online and fully functional. He could see his team attaching the drop cables to their armor, to lower them down to the ship. Malcolm smiled, flexed his fingers, tapped his feet. The adrenaline enhancers and stimulants he took were already taking effect. The door opened below them, air rushing by, a low muffled roar muted by the helmets they wore. The back of the ship was pitch black, haloed around the edges of the ship with light from the city below. It reflected off the tall dorsal fins of the hovercraft. Malcolm took his tether in hand, and
He spun through the darkened sky, black metal rushing below him. He drowned out the surprised cries of his officers, focusing intently on the dorsal fin rushing towards him. The probabilities were small, but there were there. He thrust his hand out and fired the wrist mounted grappling gun. The magnetized tip lanced out and pierced the steel plating of the fin. The cable hissed, slowing his flight, and then jerked him to a stop. The armor absorbed some of the impact, and the pills he took handed the rest, dampening the pain with a rush of endorphins. A few moments later Malcolm was pulling himself to his feet on a narrow catwalk next to an access hatch. He took the hand computer from his belt and plugged it into the access hatch’s control panel. A few quick commands ran a decryption program, overriding the ship’s security. Seconds past, then the panel flashed green, and the door opened.
Malcolm took a quick look forward, keying the night vision sensors in his helmet. The other peacekeepers were already sliding down the wire towards him, only visible due to the lowlight sensors in his visor. They would be here in seconds. Malcolm withdrew his hand computer, and stepped inside the ship.
The skimmer pilot cut in on Malcolm’s radio, broadcasting on a shielded frequency. There were thirty one life signs on the hovercraft, the regular crew numbered twenty eight. Schematics for this model hovercraft were downloaded to his hand computer, along with pictures of the crew. Malcolm drew his hand computer and pulled up the quickest route to the bridge.
They passed through the narrow passages quietly, quickly. They came to the elevators leading to the bridge. Malcolm spotted a computer station nearby, and plugged his hand computer into it. He ran the override codes for the ships security system, and accessed the cameras on the bridge. Four people were on the bridge of the ship, their faces obscured by cloth masks. Around the bridge were several sprawled bodies, the crew of the shuttle no doubt. Malcolm’s jaw set; they were dealing with criminals, or worse, terrorists. The elevators were the only way to the bridge; they’d have to go in through that way. Malcolm stared at the panel for a few seconds, considering his options. His fingers danced over the keys as he accessed the lift system. He disabled the status lights for the elevators, at least now they wouldn’t get any advance warning of their presence. A final command to the ship would set off several false alarms, causing further distraction. He keyed the alarms, and logged out.
Bells and lights flashed in the hallway, announcing a sudden fire in the engine room. Beside them the doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly, opening into darkness. Malcolm and his men stepped inside, and the darkness swallow them. Two of them drew sonic grenades, one drawing a needle pistol. Malcolm drew a stun baton. He keyed his visor for night vision and infrared, took a few shorts breaths, and concentrated. The elevators doors opened, his men threw the grenades, and he rushed out.
The bridge was drenched in white noise, ultra high frequencies that paralyzed the nervous system. The four figures dropped as one writhing in agony as their nervous system rebelled. One of the officers fired his needle gun, and a thrashing figured lay still, paralyzed but otherwise fine. The rest of them then stood up.
Malcolm stopped, staring in shock. One of the figures threw something at the gunner, and his weapon exploded in his hand. He shrieked cradling the stump of his hand to his chest. Malcolm moved forward quickly, his stun baton snapped out and contacted square on the figures chest. It shook as it released its charge, and the figure dropped to the ground, quite still.
He turned, hearing more combat behind him. The third figure was fighting both of his officers, punching and kicking both of them. He moved with incredible speed and grace, and despite the body armor his officers wore, they were reeling from the blows he delivered. A spinning kick shattered one officer’s helmet, a palm heel dented a panel of armor. Malcolm attacked from behind, bringing the baton down at the back of the figures skull. He turned with liquid speed, parrying the baton to the side.
The battled back and forth, fighting hand to hand with blinding speed. Malcolm was highly trained and had the chemical advantage of his pills, but he was almost evenly matched. He feinted a low kick, spun with a back fist, and smashed the figure’s guard down. He lunged forward with the baton. The figure clapped his hands together, stopping the baton inches from his chest. Malcolm flicked a switch and sent the charge through the entire shaft. The figure vibrated in place, grimacing, hands locked to the baton. Malcolm flicked the switch again, and the figure fell.
Malcolm turned to survey the bridge. The only sounds were the low moaning on his wounded officer. The others were moving to help him, administering more painkillers and binding his wounded arm. Malcolm radioed back to the skimmer, telling them they had secured the hovercraft but suffered injuries. The elevators doors opened again. Malcolm stared at the elevator, and cursed. Somehow she must have slipped past him in the last combat, fleeing the bridge. He ordered his men to get their wounded back to the skimmer, and raced to the elevator.
Malcolm radioed ahead to the skimmer asking them to track any unregistered life signs on the hovercraft. He left the elevator, looking left and right. Silence surrounded him. The skimmer crew radioed back; somehow she had gotten to the outside of the hovercraft. Malcolm checked the ship schematics again; an access port to the outside was to the left. He ordered the skimmer to land on the back of the hovercraft. The search would continue there.
He felt the skimmer tilt slightly, then steady itself. A quick glance at a wall monitor showed the broad dark back of the hovercraft, the pilots were directly over it. The skimmer they flew in was cloaked against radar, and its dull black exterior renders it all but invisible to the naked eye. Malcolm put his helmet on, then sent the ready signal to his men. They rose and stood by the drop hatch in the center of the floor. Small letters scrolled across the bottom of his helmet’s visor, indicating his suit’s computer was online and fully functional. He could see his team attaching the drop cables to their armor, to lower them down to the ship. Malcolm smiled, flexed his fingers, tapped his feet. The adrenaline enhancers and stimulants he took were already taking effect. The door opened below them, air rushing by, a low muffled roar muted by the helmets they wore. The back of the ship was pitch black, haloed around the edges of the ship with light from the city below. It reflected off the tall dorsal fins of the hovercraft. Malcolm took his tether in hand, and
He spun through the darkened sky, black metal rushing below him. He drowned out the surprised cries of his officers, focusing intently on the dorsal fin rushing towards him. The probabilities were small, but there were there. He thrust his hand out and fired the wrist mounted grappling gun. The magnetized tip lanced out and pierced the steel plating of the fin. The cable hissed, slowing his flight, and then jerked him to a stop. The armor absorbed some of the impact, and the pills he took handed the rest, dampening the pain with a rush of endorphins. A few moments later Malcolm was pulling himself to his feet on a narrow catwalk next to an access hatch. He took the hand computer from his belt and plugged it into the access hatch’s control panel. A few quick commands ran a decryption program, overriding the ship’s security. Seconds past, then the panel flashed green, and the door opened.
Malcolm took a quick look forward, keying the night vision sensors in his helmet. The other peacekeepers were already sliding down the wire towards him, only visible due to the lowlight sensors in his visor. They would be here in seconds. Malcolm withdrew his hand computer, and stepped inside the ship.
The skimmer pilot cut in on Malcolm’s radio, broadcasting on a shielded frequency. There were thirty one life signs on the hovercraft, the regular crew numbered twenty eight. Schematics for this model hovercraft were downloaded to his hand computer, along with pictures of the crew. Malcolm drew his hand computer and pulled up the quickest route to the bridge.
They passed through the narrow passages quietly, quickly. They came to the elevators leading to the bridge. Malcolm spotted a computer station nearby, and plugged his hand computer into it. He ran the override codes for the ships security system, and accessed the cameras on the bridge. Four people were on the bridge of the ship, their faces obscured by cloth masks. Around the bridge were several sprawled bodies, the crew of the shuttle no doubt. Malcolm’s jaw set; they were dealing with criminals, or worse, terrorists. The elevators were the only way to the bridge; they’d have to go in through that way. Malcolm stared at the panel for a few seconds, considering his options. His fingers danced over the keys as he accessed the lift system. He disabled the status lights for the elevators, at least now they wouldn’t get any advance warning of their presence. A final command to the ship would set off several false alarms, causing further distraction. He keyed the alarms, and logged out.
Bells and lights flashed in the hallway, announcing a sudden fire in the engine room. Beside them the doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly, opening into darkness. Malcolm and his men stepped inside, and the darkness swallow them. Two of them drew sonic grenades, one drawing a needle pistol. Malcolm drew a stun baton. He keyed his visor for night vision and infrared, took a few shorts breaths, and concentrated. The elevators doors opened, his men threw the grenades, and he rushed out.
The bridge was drenched in white noise, ultra high frequencies that paralyzed the nervous system. The four figures dropped as one writhing in agony as their nervous system rebelled. One of the officers fired his needle gun, and a thrashing figured lay still, paralyzed but otherwise fine. The rest of them then stood up.
Malcolm stopped, staring in shock. One of the figures threw something at the gunner, and his weapon exploded in his hand. He shrieked cradling the stump of his hand to his chest. Malcolm moved forward quickly, his stun baton snapped out and contacted square on the figures chest. It shook as it released its charge, and the figure dropped to the ground, quite still.
He turned, hearing more combat behind him. The third figure was fighting both of his officers, punching and kicking both of them. He moved with incredible speed and grace, and despite the body armor his officers wore, they were reeling from the blows he delivered. A spinning kick shattered one officer’s helmet, a palm heel dented a panel of armor. Malcolm attacked from behind, bringing the baton down at the back of the figures skull. He turned with liquid speed, parrying the baton to the side.
The battled back and forth, fighting hand to hand with blinding speed. Malcolm was highly trained and had the chemical advantage of his pills, but he was almost evenly matched. He feinted a low kick, spun with a back fist, and smashed the figure’s guard down. He lunged forward with the baton. The figure clapped his hands together, stopping the baton inches from his chest. Malcolm flicked a switch and sent the charge through the entire shaft. The figure vibrated in place, grimacing, hands locked to the baton. Malcolm flicked the switch again, and the figure fell.
Malcolm turned to survey the bridge. The only sounds were the low moaning on his wounded officer. The others were moving to help him, administering more painkillers and binding his wounded arm. Malcolm radioed back to the skimmer, telling them they had secured the hovercraft but suffered injuries. The elevators doors opened again. Malcolm stared at the elevator, and cursed. Somehow she must have slipped past him in the last combat, fleeing the bridge. He ordered his men to get their wounded back to the skimmer, and raced to the elevator.
Malcolm radioed ahead to the skimmer asking them to track any unregistered life signs on the hovercraft. He left the elevator, looking left and right. Silence surrounded him. The skimmer crew radioed back; somehow she had gotten to the outside of the hovercraft. Malcolm checked the ship schematics again; an access port to the outside was to the left. He ordered the skimmer to land on the back of the hovercraft. The search would continue there.