3,423
edits
ORIGINS: USS Hood December 2009: Difference between revisions
→[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Beginning Of An Apology
| Line 4: | Line 4: | ||
{{template:ORIGINS_USS_Hood_Story_Posts}} | {{template:ORIGINS_USS_Hood_Story_Posts}} | ||
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Procuring Equipment, Part One== | |||
===by Daniel Belin=== | |||
Weapons | |||
Location: New Detroit Town, Arcturus | |||
DeSimms was walking through a seedy part of a seedy town. He wish he had updates on how Steele or Gar were doing. Steele said he would be in contact when he found a place to use as a base, and Gar was probably off in a Arcturan 'Entertainment house'. While, yes, he was getting info, he was having 'fun' doing it. DeSimms however, was walking through a rancid street with a oily bar on one side and a chemical refinment facility on the other. | |||
He had several contacts in New Detroit and all over Arcturus, as Arcturus was a great place for smugglers or ex-SpecOps guys to settle down or run operations. While yes, part of Arcturus was a tourist haven, the other 60% was a combination of chemical refinement plants, bars, brothels, and shops of a more seedy nature. In New Detroit, there was one shop run by an ex-operative named Norm. God, he hoped Norm remembered him. | |||
Suddenly, the place was upon him. It was under a brothel, with the bulk of the shop underground with only several plate glass windows at surface level. DeSimms lowered himself into the shop, and was pleased. He had landed precisely where he wanted to. Through the smoke and dim lights, DeSimms saw enough equipment to take over a small colony, | |||
He noticed a small shadow in the light. It was too small to be Norm, and too big to be nothing. DeSimms saw the glint of a knife inches from his throat, which spurred him into action. He grabbed the attacker by the arm and pushed them down to the floor. A light from a passing car illuminated the figure, who was not an assassin or a merc, but a beautiful Deltan woman from the establishment upstairs. He gasped in surprise, which distracted him long enough for a old-style Glock to be put to his head. | |||
The man with the Glock roared, "Who are you?" | |||
"DeSimms, John. Operator 513, Echo Platoon," yelled DeSimms, guessing from the voice that it was Norm. | |||
"John? Well, then. Sorry about the gun, can't be too careful you know," said Norm, pulling his finger out of the trigger guard. He gestured to the Deltan, and she left through a passage leading upstairs. DeSimms gestured to the door with a raised eyebrow, and Norm responded, "Yes, the girls seem to know how to defend and attack. Not that they always need to. Thats why I always try to get a Deltan or Orion for security purposes. Chat aside, what can I do for you?" | |||
"I need-" | |||
Norm interrupted DeSimms, "Let me guess. You are on a black op and you can't leave a paper trail or look like Starfleet. However, you need to be armed with enough firepower to take over Panama." | |||
"That is a shameless approximation, but nevertheless correct. We need a lot. Gear, Weapons, Grenades, Covert Ops equipment, and a quick way to get around planet-side." | |||
"Wow. Well I guess you're appropriating said provisions, so you get first pick," said Norm. DeSimms pointed to a sawn-off shotgun that looked like a relic from the old days. Norm picked it up along with a shoulder holster for it and a bandolier already filled with 12-gauge shells, "What else would you like, DeSimms?" | |||
"The Thorian Disruptor." | |||
"Excellent choice, sir. It fires 1000 pulses of plasma energy a minute, and is definitely one of the more powerful handheld weapons. He handed it over, with a second holster." | |||
"Anything else for you?" | |||
"For me, just some ammo. The old .357 Mag, maybe five boxes, and .38, maybe 2 boxes." | |||
".38 is for you? I thought you carried a Python." | |||
"I do. The .38 is for a friend." | |||
"I'll give you all this as a friend, DeSimms. Well, OK, not Annabelle. That you will have to return to me in working order. Now everything for your team will start adding up. What do they need?" | |||
"OK, I need one 40mm grenade launcher. As well as the flechette, plasma, and HE rounds to go with it." | |||
"I'll loan the launcher to ya, but the ammo will knock you down about 200 credits." | |||
"OK, I'll pay," said DeSimms, looking at the 3000 or so credits he had. He would chomp a considerable amount out of his budget for all his purchases. He sighed and continued, "Ten Klingon disruptors and two plasma carbines." | |||
"Run you about 1000 credits, for that." | |||
"Finally, I need a .416 caliber rail gun for sniper use. With optics and ammo." | |||
"1500 credits for all that. In terms of covert ops equipment, I can give you old style camo-netting, stealth gear, and rope for 200, but anything else you need to get from someone else." | |||
DeSimms sighed. He was almost over budget, so his buying days were over. He asked about the vehicle, and Norm balked. DeSimms knew Norm had something, but didn't want to give it up. So DeSimms reached over, and grabbed the forty-something year old man by the collar. He asked in the same conversational tone, "What do you have?" | |||
"Nothing of use to you," said Norm, escaping from the chokehold. DeSimms looked at hi, "Alright, Alright. You have to give me something for collateral." | |||
"No." | |||
"Yes." | |||
"DAMMIT NO!" | |||
"You are a great friend," exclaimed Norm, "I should have let her kill you when she had the chance, now that you are wheedling me for every good thing in this shop." | |||
Norm opened a door to a garage, and inside lay a hoverbike. The kind used by Earth Police and reckless teenagers. Something was different about this one, it was bulkier and longer, with a double seat. DeSimms raised his eyebrow, and Norm responded, "Yes, it is a hoverbike. Standard design, just with an increased top speed, storage compartments, and a mount for any weapons you might want to put on it. Oh yes, it does have seating for two. I want this back or I will send every bounty hunter I know looking for you." | |||
"Understood," said DeSimms. He forked over the 2700 credits and packed the stuff into carrying cases. He now looked like a tourist whose hotel reservation had not worked out. He figured he could go have a look at procuring basic provisions and gear after he secured this stuff in a shuttleport locker in New Moscow. He gave his salutations to Norm, and packed his stuff into the storage compartments. He revved the motor up like a bandit, and drove off into the setting sun. | |||
Norm looked at his favorite Glock and said, "God, I hope he brings the stuff back." | |||
NRPG: I have a feeling that Corbett's weapons are not going to work. They are freebies, from an Orion none the less. I hope Steele and Gar are doing their respective assignments. | |||
--- | |||
Daniel Belin | |||
John DeSimms | |||
Operator 513, USS HOOD | |||
NCC-1703 | |||
ASR: ORIGINS | |||
| Line 54: | Line 174: | ||
ASR: ORIGINS | ASR: ORIGINS | ||
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Little Kitten, Big Cat== | ==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Little Kitten, Big Cat== | ||