Roman Jack- Chapter I/Part A

Roman Jack
By: Ryan and Caleb Anderson

Chapter 1
Seven Drunken Pirates

         Space is nothing, and nothing is space.  This is true. Yet space is filled. Light and dust. Rocks and air.  Hopes and dreams. All live in the nothing called space. The soft drift of floating rocks filled all vision. A beautiful dance interrupted by the sudden smash of their rough shells against each other. A mindless ballad and sonnet void of sound and reason.  Some called it space. Others called it home. 
                An asteroid lit up in flame as the swirling shape of a ship spun through the burst of debris.  Three quick and clean patrol ships of the most loved and admired military kept in hot pursuit. Bah, did anyone else what to vomit on that description? Anyway, the other ship, the one being chased, it may have not been much to look at but the morons in the other ships were not finding it easy to catch it either.  A mass of wielded pods and engines tied to what looked like the head of a four century old search and rescue shuttle.
              The red cross of those vessels could still be seen under the black painted name of the ship. The Exiled. Another missile flew ahead of the military ship at the Exiled. The target ship ducked under one of the available rocks in the area.  The missile landed into said rock and blew it to little bits.  Speaking of bits.  The mechanic of  The Exiled just threw his. The pole he was strapped to kept him from being thrown into engine parts but hardly stopped his lunch from meeting the floor. He swung around the metal pole as the ship barrel around yet again. 
              "Everrone else gets a seat." He said in a deep Irish accent. "But no jimmyday, I have to be in arms-a-reach of them machines. Can't be a sittin for that now can I, Miss Dag?" He asked a small brown cat strapped to an equally small chair. The cat sat wide eyed as the ship tossed yet again. The Irish man reached for a mic and held the button. "Captain." He spat. "What in the hell yas doing? Blast the bastards before I waste more food."  The Captain drew his mic to his face and spat back.
            "And pray you tell as to how?" He asked. "We can't launch the fighters in the middle of the field, nor in the middle of a chase.  They would be blasted before they heated up."
            "Captain." The pilot next to him said.
            "What is it?" The Captain shot out.
            "The end of the line, sir." He said nodding ahead. A military frigate sat at the exit point of the field and their only chance of escape.
            "Good God." The Captain yelled. "What is on that chip?" He asked aloud. "The Counsel naked?"
            "I might have to do something crazy here." Jig stated.
            "Crazy?" The Captain asked right as the pilot spun the ship around and hit the brake jets.  Both men jerked forward at the force.  The muffled cries of the mechanic rang over the mic as the Captain clicked it off.  "What the heck was that?" He asked only to be interrupted by a rush of adrenaline caused by the ship tipping its nose complemented by Jig kicking the engines to full burn.  The Captain's vision began to blur as blood flooded to the back of his head. "Jig, I'm goooooing to kiiill you!" He yelled in spits and spats as the G-force threw him around his seat. The Captain took a breath of recycled air as his stomach he head stopped spinning and let his eyes pop back the front of his skull. "Tell me you lost them." The Captain said hopefully. Jig turned and smiled.
          "Who do you think you are talking to?" He said confidently.
          "That doesn't answer my question." The Captain noted.
          "No, I haven't lost them." The Fulton pilot said seriously right as he spun the vessel into another tight spin and hard burn.  The three patrol boats where charging forward with the frigate banking down behind them. The Captain looked over at his pilot and blinked.
        "Any time your ready there buddy." He said. The military ships were still charging. "Any time." The Captain repeated. "Take your time." He said as they closed in. "But now would be nice." He added as they opened fire upon them. The bursts and flashes of rounds filled the cockpit window. "Jig?" The Captain said. "Jig?" He asked again as the patrol ships where seconds away. "JIG!" Jig smashed a button and three bombs flew out in front of the ship.  Of course at the speed the ship was going, the bombs were quickly behind the ship and the patrol boats ran straight into them. The radar showed the beautiful explosion and death.
        "You worry too much Captain." Jig assured.
        "I thought the idea was to shoot missiles when they are in front of you and drop bombs when they are behind. Not the other way round." The Captain asked.
        "I like to mix it up every once and awhile, keep them on their toes." He stated.
        "Oh, well in that case." The Captain said sarcastically. "What about the frigate?" He asked pointing.
        "Still working on that one." Jig admitted as he pulled into a tight roll under new barrage of anti craft fire coming from the much larger vessel.
        "I haate yooou so muuuuch."  The Captain screamed through the jerks and the pulls, but even through all this he grabbed the mic and started given orders.  "Kat! Seth! Get to your ships. NOW!"
        "Two fighters can't take that thing on." Jig reminded. "What you got in your mind?"
        "We ain't going to beat it, just stop it." The Captain shot back. Jig smiled seeing what the man was planning. He swung the ship on a dime and flew it up the towards the ass of the blistering frigate.  Kat stumbled at the mind numbing spin as Seth planted his hand on the wall. His cyborg eye, arm, leg, left jaw bone, and rib cage came in handy in these spots.  Basically only half of him was still human. Which was why could pilot a fighter. The forces in a stunt fighter was too much for a normal human. They would pass out in a second.
        Cyborgs came into common use during the Narrie war.  Mostly because Narrie can take those G-forces.  Which is why Kat is the other pilot.  The glossy black eyes and arrow shape tattoos covering her body even her lower face and neck marked her kind. The war was nearly twenty years over and still the Narrie are the most feared and coveted fighters in the system. And old Captain Roman had one flying with a old military cyborg. Kat smiled as she stood back up and rushed to the hanger.  Seth was quick behind.
        "We are only going to have one shot at this." He stated as he climbed into his fighter.  It shined silver and glisten with beauty.  A true example of stolen merchandise. But it had nothing on the gem that Kat crawled into.  A genuine Narrie gunship.  Still with the blue and black paint tiger striped on the hull.
        "Too much for you, Seth?" Kat asked mockingly.
        "Just stating for the record." He cleared up.
        "Ah," She laughed as she closed the hatch.
        "You two ready?" The Captain asked over the mic.
        "Burn a devil." Kat confirmed.
        "Ready." Seth said.
        "Wait for my order." The Captain reminded as Jig brought the ship through a swirl of fire and blasts.  The form of the frigate but a hundred meters from the bottom of his chair.
        "Not to be a talker." Jig said. "But a lot of persons would call this level of skill not less than an amazing." He finished as he jerked around a mounting on the frigate's hull.
      "Just get us there." The Captain order. "Preferably alive."
        "Yes sir." Jig muttered.  Following orders he flipped the ship on it's axle then cut the engines.  Once the flames died he hit the boosters and knocked the ship into another skin stretching dive.
        "Now." The Captain yelled as the three massive engines of the frigate fill his vision. Jig had done his job and dropped them right behind the frigate. "How long can we take this heat?" The Captain asked turning back to Jig.
        "Huh," Jig thought. "I never thought about the heat factor." The Captain's right eye twitched as the two fighters burned out of their births. Seth swung his nose to the enemy engines and lit up his barrels on the frigate's ass. Kat was quick to follow with a good volley of missiles. The shots and booms ripped and tore as the dome of the engines gave way to the carriage.
        "I do believe we washed her, sir." Seth remarked.
        "I think you're right." The Captain agreed. "You two hurry back so we can get the hell out of here."
        "Nich on that." Kat yelled at the damaged frigate tauntingly as she docked back with the top of the ship's hanger.  The hooks pulled her back into the safety of the ship as the jolt of a hard burn knocked her stomach. No way the frigate could follow, now. They had gotten away clean. She stayed in her seat for a moment just in case. Even though the Captain hadn't ordered her too. A good fighter doesn’t have to be told what to do, or at least that was what everyone kept telling her.
        "We all clear?" She asked.
        "You bet your balls." Jig said over the comm.
        "I ain't got any." Kat twitched back.
        "Not my problem." Jig remarked.
        "Nich." She spat as she unbuckled herself. The steam and vapor of ships settled on the hanger floor. It felt like warm grass on her legs. Seth was already looking over his ship as was his custom. Kat wasn't so worried. They hadn't been out long enough to worry.  The door from the hanger opened up to the main living quarters.  A few broken dishes swam on the floor. Someone forgot to put them up after dinner. She continued on into the original shuttle that the Captain and mechanic built the rest off of.  It was their old ship back in ancient times or some such.  To he left was the engine room with the single pole in the middle with that crazy Irishman tied to it. Kat almost felt sorry for the bastard considering he was dizzy on the floor with before mentioned dinner around him. Nich.
        "How is he doing?" The Captain asked.  Kat looked at old Roman Jack and back to the engine room.
        "Who? Shamrock? I think he is dead." Kat stated.
        "Oh, well in that case, I guess I ought to throw him out of the air lock." The Captain said as he walked past and gave him a good kick in the foot.  "Jig, how long till we get to New Corinth?"
        "Four maybe five hours." Jig shouted from the cockpit.
        "Fine, give Marshall and Ash a buzz." Captain Roman Jack ordered. "Tell them that we will be arriving a little behind schedule."
        "A what?" Jig asked.
        "A call." The Captain corrected.
        "Oh, why didn't you say so?" Jig asked.
        "Good grief." Roman slurred as retreated to his room.

        The red and yellow hue of a hard engine burn faded into the darkness of space. The Captain of the disabled frigate stood on his bridge with a dark expression and a equally dark coat on his back watching his target escape. His leather in his boots creaked as he breathed slowly and considered his options.  Sadly it seemed he had very few.
          "Status report." He said calmly.
          "Number one and three engines are severely damaged."  The control Ensign called in.
          "And what of number two?" The XO asked. He was new to the ship. Less than a month to be precise. The Captain, however, had been leading this vessel for nearly ten years. 
            "It has suffered minor damage, sir."  The Ensign reported in on the engine.
            "Can we give chase?" The Captain asked.
            "Negative." The Ensign stated. "The heat and pressure from the other two engines could blow out the what is left."
            "They certainly did a good job of muck up, didn't they Commander?" The Captain asked his XO.
            "Indeed." He replied. The doors to the bridge opened to a squad of men in the red tops of marines. The leader of this pack had a solid scar on his face and a graying head of hair. On his chest hung a chain down to a silver emblem.  The emblem of the elite.  The saviors of the human race. The order that broke the Narrie's will to fight. The State Watchmen. They hold no rank. They hold no duty station. They answer only to the leader of their order and he answers only to the Counsel.  The Captain turned and saluted the approaching Watchman. 
         "Captain." The State Watchman began. "Why has the pursuit of the fugitives ceased?"
         "I regret to inform you that we have been damaged by enemy fighters." The Captain stated. "You might have noticed the jerk."
         "And how did a well trained Captain of the fleet fall prey to such scum as them?" The Watchman asked.
         "It is a puzzle." The Captain continued. "Perhaps the first piece to it is as to how an esteemed Watchman came to forget to mention they had such tools as stunt fighters.  And, if he did know, why did he press this vessel forward despite one highly trained Captain requesting a larger escort than three patrol boats."
         "Do not attempt to hide your failures here, Captain." The Watchman insisted. "It is not my fault that your men were not able to handle a single cruiser.  Nor, is it my fault that they fell prey to their own weakness in battle."
         "Do not dishonor the dead, Watchman." The Captain ordered. "We will continue to pursue when the engines are properly repaired and not a moment before. This is, after all,  still my ship."
         "Very well." The Watchman stated turning around. "Sergeant, prepare my ship, we will continue on by ourselves." The marines saluted and left to fulfill their orders. The Watchman turned his head back to the Captain before leaving. "To the bold goes the glory." He stated.
         "Glory means less than dust if you are dead." The Captain shot back. The Watchman smiled and removed himself.
         "Those Watchmen are an odd bunch." The XO stated with a sigh.
         "Indeed." The Captain agreed as he faced back to the void of space. "They are of a different bred.  They are in many ways needed and in many ways not."
         "So true, sir." The XO said as the Watchman's ship burned off into the black after its target. The light of their engines had just began to fade when an alert began to sound. Both the Captain and the XO turn to the radar controler in surprise. The Ensign on duty nervously focused in the contact.  The screen filled with the silhouette of the most terrifying site any man could see. With a trembling lip he turned to his officers and reported his findings.
         "Sir." The Ensign stuttered. "It is a Narrie destroyer."
                "What!?" The XO snapped. "That is impossible. There hasn't been one sense the war."
                The Captain swallowed hard.  He had seen what those ships could do, and he also knew that his ship was no match for it, and with his engines out he was a sitting duck, so to speak. But even as the black and blue vessel opened fire on the cribbed frigate and tore it piece by piece the Captain found himself hating the Watchman.  That after all that talk of surviving he would be the one to never see home again.

         The sight was stunning in a way.  The slow flow and dance of fire.  The burst of metal and air. The silent chaos of it all. The frigate didn't last long to the barrage of guns. The Narrie Coritus sat in his command chair and viewed the final seconds of hundreds of human lives.
         "Remarkable, is it not?" The Coritus asked.
         "Yes, my lord." Razor Migan agreed.
                "We will need a scan of the area." Coritus To' loc stated. Migan nodded and looked down at the burning fragments of the human vessel with sorrow. The Coritus laughed slightly at his seconds empathy with the humans. And to think, Migan was born in bondage way back in the past long before the war. When the Narrie were not the Narrie. 
                Back when they were just the slaves of their humans creators. Back when they were all little better than the robots that guarded them.  They mined the humans water, stone and ore for over three hundred years. They made life comfortable for all mankind at the cost of freedom.
                But that all changed.  One day the Narrie realized who they were and fought their inferior creators.  They nearly replaced the white eyes fools, but they forgot who they were again.  And so the human again prosper while the Narrie died out in the cold of space, lost and forgotten.  But not for long.  Because this young Coritus was going to help them all remember who they were, and what they could do. 
                "My lord." Razor Migan spoke up. "The scan is complete."
                "And?" Coritus To' loc asked.
                "There are signs of a battle before we arrive." The Razor updated. "It could be the Exiled."
                "Truly?" Coritus To' loc asked, excited. "Well, that is good news. Do we have a trail?"
                "Ion emissions have been detected." Migan informed.
                "Oh, how pleasant." Coritus To' loc said. "Follow with all haste. If I am right about what the Watchmen are planning then we will need to be very close to good old Captain Roman Jack." 


                The sky was blue and the clouds white. Like back on Earth, not that many out here have actually have seen Earth.  The Exiled flew low, mostly cause no one cared if it did so.  It buzzed the stubs that once were great skyscrapers. Past the fires of homeless staying warm and the roads half covered in trash and debris.  Then suddenly over the glow of perfection. Those walled gardens with towering buildings and untouched residents. Reclaimed areas they called them. Steam rose up as the deck of the Exiled lowered to the cracked and lined concrete.  Captain Roman waited as the elevator lowed before stepping on to the ground with his crew behind him.  The blue sky of this rock was a welcome sight, as well was the fresh air.
                "Kat." The Captain said as he entered the proper information into the docking pad.
                "Sir." The Narrie girl reported.
                "You and Seth will stay the ship." He ordered.  "I want the water and air changed out by the time we get back. Thomas." He said to the Irish grease monkey. "You and Jig are going to do some shopping. Stick to the basics. I don't want some Reclaimer giving us crap. "
              "Aye on that, Captain." Thomas said as he slid on his coat.
              "Have fun Shamrock." Kat said mockingly.
              "The name be Thomas lass, Best you remember it." Thomas correct.
              "But I like Shamrock better." She continued to tease.
              "Shamrock's a place." Thomas argued. "One that's not even there anymore. We can thank you all for that, can't we?"
              "Shamrock." Roman interrupted.
              "Yes sir." Thomas responded without thought.
              "Shut up."
              "Aye sir." Thomas said shamed.
              "What about you, sir?" Seth asked. "What are you going to do?"
              "Well," The Captain said stretching. "The meet with the client ain't until tomorrow, so I going to stretch my legs." He said with a smile, a wave and an about face out of the docking area.
              "Doh," Kat sighed. Jig also took in a breath.
              "The problem with the Captain." He said. "Is that when he goes on a stroll we usually end up on the run."
                The alley was dusty and old.  Trash filling the corners and glass scattered about.  Captain Roman Jack strolled down it with his hands in his pockets and a cool wind in his face.  Smoke rose like a cloud from a small place in the back.  Roman stepped carefully down the steps and opened the door.  The place stunk of cheap whisky and fresh beer with old records filling the walls with weeping tunes.  The wallpaper was pealing in the corners and no one cared. The bar was dented and cut. The customers weren't that different from the bar, dented and cut.  Roman walked to the side wall and sat down behind a man in a grey hat.
                "The moon is high tonight." Roman said.
                "It sits on the sun's shoulders." The man responded.
                "How have you been?" Roman asked.
                "I keep breathing." The man said.
                "What is new?"
                "Well." The man sighed and cracked his knuckles. "I hear that there was a break in at Mars Operations."
              "Really?" Roman said. "By who?"
              "Don't know." The man in the grey hat continued. "But they were pros."
              "What did they take?" Roman asked.
              "Not sure on that either." The man admitted. "but it must have been something
important." 
              "Why do you say that?" Roman asked.
              "Because," The man in the grey hat started. "you don't blow a wall in with a fighter so you can drop line a man into the complex to steal something that you can hack off the system. Whatever they took was valuable enough for the government to keep off the net."
         "So you know it was information that they took." Roman inquired.
         "I caught wind of it." The man stated. "Also, I heard that the military was so angry over this that they sent a State Watchman after the thieves."
         "Really?" Roman asked.
         "Yep." The man in the hat said. "They say it is a old veteran Watchman, from back in the war." The man in the hat turned his head slightly to Jack. "Can you handle the heat?" He asked Jack.
         "I wouldn't be in this business if I couldn't." Jack replied. The man in the hat turned back forward.
         "Just remember." He said. "You can't spend money in hell."
         "What about local news?" Jack asked changing the subject.
         "Not good." The man said with a sigh. "Ten years ago there was enough room for everyone to operate, but now toes are getting stepped on.  The Triad is moving in on the Syndicates."
         "That doesn't sound too abnormal."  The Captain stated.
         "Yes, but is the biker gangs are getting involved this time." The man in the hat explained.
         "Biker gangs?" Roman asked.
         "Bah." The man in grey spat. "The war made a lot of orphans, Jack, and the problem with orphans is that they have no where to go, nothing to do and no one to kick them in the butt when needed. So a lot of them have formed these gangs and now roam the streets causing problems."
         "So what does that have to do with the Triad and Syndicates?" Jack asked.
         "The Triad was able to buy them off." The man continued. "They are now using the gangs as muscle."
         "You going to tell that a bunch of punk kids can take on the Syndicates?" Jack said.
         "It is all about numbers and guts." The man in the grey hat stated. "The gangs tip the balance.  The Syndicates are losing and that makes them nervous.  And there is nothing worse than twitchy fingers on machine guns." The man finished.
         "Yes." Roman Jack said. "I see what you mean."
         "Yeah, but it gets worse." The man continued. "The Triad is not the only one moving. The Reclaimers are getting bolder.  They push farther out every year.  I have heard rumors that they have gone so far as to wipe out whole sections, wall it off than resettle it with dopes from Earth.  I, however, can't confirm any of that.  It's just rumors. But I will keep my ear to the ground on it."
         "Thanks." Jack said. "Tell me more about this State Watchman, what can he do?"
         "Don't know much, I'm afraid." The man said. "They say he is a hard man.  But most that fought in the war were.  He isn't one to give up easy."
         "I guess I will just have to kill him." Jack said. "Anything else?"
         "Well." The man started. "The people are getting pretty tiered of the fighting."
         "And?" Jack asked. "You think they might do something?"
         "They might." The man said. "There is talk of it."
         "Of what?" Jack asked. "Revolt?"
         "Maybe." The man said. "But more interestingly, there is talk that the Fultons are the ones stirring it up."
         "Truly," Jack said. "Now that is interesting and bold on their part. What do the Fultons want with New Corinth though?" The man in the grey hat chuckled to himself.
         "The same thing the Narrie wanted it for, the same thing the military wanted it for. New Corinth has and always will be the gun at the back of Earth's head."
         "Hmmm." Jack said as he stood.  He reached in his pocket and pull out a folded napkin and dropped it on the table in front of the man.  The man dropped his hat on the napkin and rubbed his head.

         Kat laid her feet up on the console and leaned back.  The strong bass of a rock song filled the cockpit.  Kat nodded her head with the rhythmic beat.  The checklist on the computer screen clicked through each item.  Engine parts and bulk heads all being assessed by the ship's computer and reported on. The air intake hoes had a leak.  Kat saved that report and filed it under the crap Shamrock needed to do.  Growing bored already she glazed up at New Corinth's sky.  Ships and shuttles flew by often in different directions.
         "How much longer, Seth?" She asked the comm.'s mic.
         "On what?" He asked back.
         "Hmmm," She thought going over the things in progress. "The water?"
         "Seven percent complete." He answered.
         "It's been two hours." She shot out.
         "Well, I only have the one hoes." Seth explained. "You can get a bucket and help if you like."
         "No thanks."  Kat said as she turned down her music.  "Hey Seth." She said.
         "Yes?" He replied.
         "Do you think I did a good job yesterday?" She asked.
         "You always do." Seth said.
         "You think the Captain thinks so too?" She asked.
         "The Captain wouldn't let you fly that beauty of a fighter if he didn't." Seth assured. Kat smiled.
         "Yeah, you're right." She said relaxed.
         "Why?" Seth asked. "What is on your mind?"
         "Oh nothing." Kat assured. "I am just wondering when I might get to go off ship on a job."
         "Off ship?" Seth repeated. "You mean when do you get to fight eye to eye?" He asked.
         "I just wouldn't mind going with the Captain on one of these deals or one of his strolls or shopping or anything. I mean," She continued. "we land and you all go off into the planet or station and I sit on the ship watching the checklist." Kat could hear Seth chuckle slightly.
         "Kat, you have come a long way from the child that we meet ten years ago," He said and paused to find his words. "But shooting at an object and killing a man is very different."
         "I know that." Kat shot back.
         "No." Seth said firmly. "You really don't."
         "Look, could you just talk to the Captain for me." Kat asked. "Please, I'm going stir crazy sitting on this ship and he will listen to you more than me. Ok."
         "What makes you think he will listen to me?" Seth asked.
         "Cause besides Marshall, he respects you the most." Kat said.
         "Really?" Seth said. "You think so."
         "Yes." Kat stated again.
         "Well, if that is true why don't you ask Marshall to ask him?" Seth asked.
         "Well," Kat stressed. "Marshall isn’t here."
         "Indeed, he is not." Set agreed. "Still. I think if anyone should say anything it should be him. I tell you what, I'll talk to Marshall and see what he thinks. Fair enough?"
         "Yeah I guess." Kat said.
         "Good, now get back to the checklist." Seth ordered.
         "Yes sir." Kat replied turning her music back up.  Thomas's cat jumped into her lap and curled up. Kat looked down at her and pet her with a smile.

         The market was anything but calm. A busting strip of open shops half covered booths and torrents of talking people. Banners and signs toping all the buildings as the sweet hum of distance and near music blended with the chatter.  Almost like a river turning the bend. All the life and flow of commerce running down one narrow road. Thomas loved it, it reminded him of home. Jig hated it, it reminded him of home. Thomas pushed through a line to get a machine part.
         "Two on the nicker?" He asked.
         "Nah." The merchant replied. "Dozer sank last night. One on the nicker, five on the penny."
         "Oh come on." Thomas  shot back. "Five on the dime and you take the mister's necktie."  The merchant thought about it and nodded his head. "Good." Thomas exclaimed. "Here is twenty quill."
         "Thanks a feather, mate." The merchant said somewhat disappointed.  Thomas turned with a smile and rammed the new part into Jig's hands.
         "Carry that." Thomas ordered.
         "Huh?" Jig said. "Why can't you?" He asked.
         "Cause." Thomas said picking up a basket of eggs. "I'm taking the eggs and eggs are fragile."  Jig shook his head in disgust.
         "Nich." He muttered and walked on. The market was right by a lake.  The sun bounced off the water and glittered like a broken mirror. It really was lovely.  Several others thought so too.  They stood on the edge leaning on the railing glazing at the sight. Talking and laughing, taking pictures and thinking. One girl that leaned on that ledge turned right as Jig strolled by.  Her long red hair caught the sunlight and light up her face and outlined her form. 
         Jig's feet stopped moving.  She was like an angel.  Jig was stunned. He couldn't stop looking at her. She noticed his gaze and meet it with a small smile. His heart quickened. He turned to walk towards her, greasy engine part in hand. He took two steps when him, her and all the people in the market was blown to the ground with a wave of smoke. Jig rose to his feet and blinked out the dust in his eyes.  The column of smoke and flame shot up from the buildings behind him.
         In an instance a flood of military aircraft poured down from the sky with a rain of bullets on the market place.  The smoke began to spread out as people rushed in all directions trying to escape.  Jig drew his gun and made a run for the last place he saw Thomas.  He pushed his way through the crowds and tuned out the gun fire.  A guy stumbling in front of him and looked up to find himself face to face with the black visor and blood red armor of a Reclaimer.  The man clenched his teeth and tried to make a run for it when the Reclaimer fired two into the man's chest.  Blood spat to the ground as the man fell over still gasping for air.  The Reclaimer pressed his foot on the man's chest and ended him with a round to the head. 
         The crack of the gun shot was still ringing when Jig leveled his own gun.  The Reclaimer turned to see him when Jig opened fire.  Several shots bounced off the Reclaimer's armor before one struck him in the head scattering the glass and filling the helmet with blood. Jig stepped up to the dead Reclaimer and took his gun from his hand. The area was still filled with smoke but most of the fighting seems to have moved on.  Jig pull out his comm. and paged Thomas.
         "Thomas." He said. "You alright?" There was no response. "Thomas." He said again. It was then that a car broke through the wall of smoke and slid to halt in front of Jig.  The window rolled down.
         "What?" Thomas yelled out of the car. Jig smiled and ran to the other side to get in.
         "What took you so long." Jig asked.
         "I had to drop off the eggs." Thomas explained as they sped away.
         "I wasn't expecting that." Jig stated looking behind them at the still progressing massacre.
         "That is kinda the point of a sneak attack." Thomas said.
         "Ah," Jig said. "The Reclaimers must be getting bold."
         "Yeah," Thomas said as he swerved around a post. "Speaking of bold." Thomas added nodding head of them. Jig turned to take a look. Thomas was driving right at a check point covered with Reclaimers.
         "Thomas." Jig said a little concerned. Thomas didn't slow down.
         "Hold on." Thomas said as the front windshield blew into a scatter mess of glass at the incoming bullets.  Jig hardly had time to scream when Thomas ramped the obstacles sending the car flying into the air. The motor vehicle spun on its side before crashing into the ground with a shower of sparks and a hard bang. It continued to run on the ground before it smashed into the wall with a thump and some flames. Thomas kicked the door open and crawled out.
         "You might want to be hurrying along there, Jig." He said. "Them Reclaimers aren't know for their kindness." Jig rolled out of the crashed car and spit some blood on the concrete.
         "Thanks for the hint." Jig said sarcastically when a bullet bounced off the wreckage.  The Reclaimers at the checkpoint they just ramped were running towards them and they were not happy.
         "Let's get out of here." Thomas yelled making a run for it.
         "Great idea there genius." Jig yelled back as he jumped to his feet and followed.   

         Captain Roman Jack sat in the calm of a small dinner and took a drink of his coffee before continuing on his eggs and ham.  The place smelled of grease and cigarettes.  The counter was covered in dishes and tips with bills lined up like soldiers on parade.  The bell of the door opening rang and the thump of hard leather hitting the titled floor bounced around. A man in his fifties slid down in front Jack.  He wore the black overcoat of an military officer.  On his chest was the pendent of a State Watchman. A woman in her late twenties sat down next to Jack.  She wore civilian clothing but anyone could tell that see was not from New Corinth.  Too clean and proper. The Watchman folded his hands on the table and smiled slightly.
         "We have been looking for you, Captain." He said.
         "It appears that you found me." Jack said.
         "Yes it does." The Watchman replied.
         "I hope the trip wasn't too taxing." Jack stated with concern smeared on his face.
         "Hardly, it was worth it." The Watchman said.
         "I bet." Jack said coldly.
         "Now, would you be so kind as to come with us?" The Watchman asked.
         "Can I finish my eggs first?" Jack asked.
         "Of course." The Watchman answered.
         "Thank you." Jack said picking the rest of them on his fork and shoving them in his mouth. "There." He mumbled. The Watchman smiled before nodding to his lady friend to get up. She stood facing Jack as the Watchman slid out of the booth.  Jack took a gulp of his coffee and also stood.  The woman turned and walk ahead with the Watchman to Jack's back.  They left the dinner and entered the alley next to it.
         "I have to ask." The Watchman said once they were in the shadow. "Do you even know what is on that disk you stole?"
         "I must say I never asked." Jack admitted.
         "Well, maybe if you had you would have dropped the job." The Watchman stated.
         "I doubt it." Jack shot back. "What is on there?" He asked.
         "It is the flight plan of a water tanker." The Watchman responded.
         "Ah, that would explain why my client is paying so much." Jack stated. "I'm sure the Fultons would pay a fortune for a full tanker of water."
         "Earth needs that water." The Watchman said.
         "For what?" Jack said. "Their golf courses? Plus they always over ship, the way I hear it they sell water to the Fultons anyway because they don't have enough storage for it all."
         "Probably." The Watchman said. "But I'm sure our client will give them a better price."
         "Personally, Marshall." Jack said turning around. "I really don't care."
         "When is the meet?" Marshall asked.
         "Tomorrow." Jack answered. "I was worried you and Ash weren't going to make it back in time."
         "You know I never disappoint." Marshall said.
         "Yep, but I do wonder." Jack said. "Why do you keep wearing that metal thingy?" He said pointing to the pendent on Marshall's chest.
         "It let's me get into places easier." Marshall stated. "So long as they don't look to close at it and realize that it expired ten years ago."
         "Ha." Jack said. "Yeah, but a former Watchman can light up a guy's ass just as well as a current one."
         "I like to think so." Marshall said. Jack smiled.
         "How's it going, Ash?" Jack asked the lady standing next to the former State Watchman.
         "Fine." She said coldly before walking past. "So where is your car?" She asked.
         "I figured on saving some money and walked." Jack stated. She turned with a bitter look and shook her head. Marshall chuckled and followed behind her. Jack shrugged and also followed down the alley saying. "Yep, good to have the band back together." 

         Jig leaned back as Kat took the cloth and cleaned the cut on his head.  He clenched at the sting of the alcohol in the gash.  Kat smirked at his suffering. Jig rolled his eyes as Kat dabbed another cloth and started again. 
         "That hurts." Jig stated.
         "That means it is working." Kat informed.  "I thought Fultons were famous for there tolerance of pain."
         "Have you heard from the Captain yet?" Jig asked changing the subject. She shook head.
         "He hasn't called in yet." She informed.
         "Who hasn't?" Thomas asked holding his cat in his hands.
         "The Captain." Jig said.
         "Well, why would he call in?" Thomas asked pointing. "He is right there." Jig and Kat turned to see the Captain, Marshall and Ash walking into the dock.
         "Marshall." Kat yelled and ran down to met the old man. He laughed as Kat threw her arms around his chest.  Jig shook his head.
         "Geeze." He said to Thomas. "We come back all beat up and all she does is roll her eyes.  Marshall walks in after being gone for a week and she acts like it has been years."
         "Well, that's because she don't like ya." Thomas said.
         "Bah." Jig spat. "She likes me." He said confidently. "Right?"  He asked.
         "Sure she does." Thomas said as he walked past Jig to the Captain.
         "What happen to you two?" Roman asked when he noticed the cuts and bruises.
         "The Reclaimers hit the market." Thomas said.
         "What?" Jack said.
         "It's true sir." Jig assured. "They wiped the whole place out." Jack breathed in this bad news and let it out slowly.
         "Well." He said. "I guess the rumors are true."
         "Rumors?" Jig asked.
         "Yep." Jack said.
         "Were you pegged?" Marshall asked.  Thomas and Jig looked at each other with blank faces.
         "Were you?" Jack asked. Thomas shrugged.
         "It is more than possible, Cap." He said. Jack chew his lip in a bit of anger.
         "Damn it." He spat.
         "If they have a I.D." Marshall began.
         "Than we need to be out of here by morning." The Captain finished. "Damn it, damn it." He repeated.
         "What should we do Captain?" Thomas asked. The Captain sighed.
         "Marshall, call up the client and ask if we can have the meet tonight."
         "And if he asks why?" Marshall asked.
         "Tell him that we have another job we have to get to." Jack said.
         "Yes sir." Marshall said walking onto the ship.  Roman looked again at his two men and shook his head at their injuries.
         "Ash," He said. "You might as well look at these two idiots."
         "Yes Captain." The young lady said walking up to Jig who smiled large and stood up straight.
         "You miss me?" He asked with a wink. Ash stared at him blankly for a second then turned to look at Thomas. She examined him then walked off saying something about needing some medicine with a long name.
         "I guess she is still mad at me." Jig stated. Thomas resisted a laugh. Even Seth, who had been watching from afar let go a chuckle. "Oh come on." Jig protested. "How could I have know?" He asked frustrated. "I met a hot lady that was willing to sleep with me. I didn't know it was Ash's 'special' friend getting back at her for not calling."
         "Jig." Seth said. "You first red flag should have been the whole woman willing to sleep with you bit."
         "Oh, haha." Jig said sarcastically.  "You would have done her too." He stated.
         "I doubt it." Seth said tapping his groin. "It's all flat metal now."
         "You know." Thomas whispered to Jig. "Somehow that still doesn't sit well with me."
         
         Black alleys and paper in the wind dying in the shadows.  The soft buzz of fading street lights and the gentle rumble of distance traffic. The drowning night and no moon to buff off the edge of darkness. A car slowed to a stop outside of the derelict building.  Jack stepped out of the car with a trench coat to his knees.  Kat stepped out with a few pistols on her, Marshall had his State Watchman coat on and Seth carried a large machine gun, the kind with bullets so big most tanks wouldn't take it on.  Kat stood by the Captain for a second with a smile. Being brave she leaned in and whispered.
         "Thanks for bringing me along." She said.
         "Thank me after we get back ok?" He said.
         "Sure thing boss." She said coming to attention.  The Captain rolled his eyes and opened the building's door. The spiral of old stairs reached from the tile floor to the leaking roof.  It was dark.  It was quiet.  Jack walked to the center of the lobby room and sniffed the air. The breathing of the whole group slowed as eyes moved across the whole of the area.  The creaking of the wind hitting the sides of the building echoed and bounced about. 
         "This stinks." Roman Jack said softly.
         "They may just be late." Marshall suggested.
         "Or they may not be coming." Jack said back.  The group stood still for a time and wind continue to creak through. "Either way, we are out of here." Jack decided turning and waving everyone towards the door. His men followed right as the car they came in exploded into flame. Jack stumbled back from the shock wave of heat. Military vehicles flew up and troops poured out in rows. "Back inside!" Jack screamed as they rushed in.  Seth and Marshall threw shut the doors and rammed some metal beams in front of them.  "Come on." Jack yelled as he began to run up the stairwell.
         "They set us up." Kat cried.
         "It don't matter." Marshall said from behind. "Just go." The front door blew open to a wave of combat dress soldiers. Jack looked from above with anger. 
         "Above us." Seth cried. Jack swung his body over the railing and looked up with a twitch in his eyes.
         "Well they spared no expense." He muttered. Outside the sun roof of the building flew two helows.  Ropes dropped and men slid down them like water down a string. The glass shattered as Jack rolled back to cover. "Go!" He ordered as the zip of the men approaching grew louder. In an instant Jack slid to a stop, drew a small shotgun from his coat and leveled it at his hip.  Right as the soldier dropped by Jack let a blaze of pellets fly. The man spun midair before falling to the ground with a thump. Jack dropped to a knee and reloaded the shotgun.
         "I do believe we are trapped, sir." Marshall said as the rumble of men marching came from above and below.
         "I do believe." Jack smirked. "Anyone see any reason to play this nice?" He asked.
         "No sir." Seth said calmly.
         "Well then." Jack said tossing his shotgun to Kat and smiled. With a swing of his hand he reviled a large one barrel monster of a cannon with what looked like a cylinder by the trigger.  He withdrew a huge shell from his coat, flipped out the cylinder and loaded the gun. Then with a flick of his wrist he locked the cylinder back into the gun, and gave it a hard spin. 
         The cylinder let out a high pitch whistle as it began to glow. Standing on his feet he looked down at the fast approaching doom. "Let's play dirty."