Walking into a trap (Apollo)

[DoS Archive]

From: apollomara@aol.com (ApolloMara)
Date: 25 Apr 1998 12:00:12 EDT

I had never ever been called tortured before but it didn't make much difference, I had work to do. I started up the Harley and headed off for the Run. My contact had had called and I was personally interested in dead bodies showing up at the Run. Smugglers had a respect for each other despite the differences that separated them as far as technology. The entrance to the run was damn near
impossible by land, air, or sea. You had to know it. I had the bike up to 120 miles per hour. I had to be on the ball. I switched off the main headlamp for the big bike and lowered the night vision viewer. There was the needle. The false wall was right there. Holo Rock is what the smugglers called it. To any sensors of any type it would look like solid rock, the same way it looked to the naked eye. I flipped the UV switch and there was the
gaping hole. Not that Holo Rock was the only booby trap to the entrance. Wrecks littered every ultra-hairpin corner. NO one *ever* saw the straight path, unless it was pointed out to them. I raced forward. Deck 9. My contact was on Deck nine. The similarity with sail vessels, by they space types or the more conventional sort made this a place full of nautical terms for the earth beneath our feet. I didn't want to wait on the lift so I took
the ladder system. By the time I reached Deck 9 I was more than a little winded. I had gone up 90 feet at as close to a sprint as I could get. I entered and looked for loft 12, the short hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I heard the air rushing and ducked as a lead pipe passed through the air where my head had been. I rocked back on my palms and struck out with both feet aiming for where the knees of the attacker should be. I was rewarded
with the satisfying crunch of snapping kneecaps and the resulting howl of pain. The thud of the person didn't hurt my feelings either. It was now howling in a language I didn't understand but had been told was Drow. I had gotten damn lucky. I picked up the pipe and ended the shouting quickly. I bound his hands and tossed him into a storage closet. From what I heard these types of elves hated the surface dwelling plague that was mankind. This
one must have pissed someone off at some point. "Sweet dreams, pal." There was a flare of pain in my shoulder. Stabbed. "Dammit." I pulled out one of my blasters and fired, lighting up the hallway. I saw her running. Definite assassin. Track. Track. I had her speed down by the third shot and fired a blast that would leave her with a limp, but alive.

"You are a hard man to kill Lo." I did not like that voice and I like it knowing my name even less.

"My friends call me Lo. My old DI called me Mr. Maran, strangers call me you and I think you fall into the last category, dirt ball." The pain in my shoulder was slowing to a dull ache. The windbreaker that had replaced my bomber had allowed the blade deep. It seemed like it my have sheered some bone. That would explain the sharp pains when I moved the right shoulder.

"I have tried for years to end the unholy error that they named after a Greek god." He knew about Project Netchze. He stepped out of the dark. Damn he was big. I chewed the inside of my cheek as I tried to plot an out of this. "You just won't die."

"Sorry, don't do requests bud."

"I had the hardest time getting you here. Too bad for Frale." He had killed the guy just to get to me. That was so wrong.

"Yeah. Dangerous business." He held out a detonator. I flicked my wrist and a throwing star fell into my right palm. This was going to take exact timing and a high tolerance for pain. He thumbed the unlock button. When He let of the detonator would go up taking most of this deck with it. In the dim light I caught sight of the glint on his left wrist. PCL. I knew that this model of Personal Communicator Link had a low tolerance for blows of
any kind. A second throwing star was in my left palm.

"Too bad for you Maran." He started to raise his left wrist. NOW! I heard a growl of rage and pain and would realize later that it had been me. As is always the case in these high adrenal moments, everything went into slow motion. The stars went out quickly. I had aimed for the detonator with the right and the PCL with the left. The star from my left hand hit first singing through the PCL face and into the big guy's arm. The star from my
right was low because I couldn't raise my arm enough in time. It sank about half way through his hand. He yowled in pain and dropped the detonator. I grabbed the stone on my right wrist. Bless Ris whereever she had gone. I was surrounded by pink light and then I was on my Harley. Devak Sal teleportation stones. I was roaring out of the Run when the detonator went off.

I headed for the SuperNova. I need rested and some serious band aiding.

[DoS Archive]

From: apollomara@aol.com (ApolloMara)
Date: 01 May 1998 17:54:20 EDT

I looked at the woven poncho that I had been using in place of my leather jacket. Damn Luthien's bet. Being without that jacket was like a part of me was gone. I headed down to the bar of the Super Nova. I couldn't help but like the Nova. It was a real pirates bar. As I walked into the main room Dolph, whom I hired for his outstanding talent for cracking heads, tossed out to drunken and
bleeding tech bound smugglers. There was a loud band over in the corner playing loud, raucous music. Something 20th century as best as I could place it. A song about a not being able to stay or go with out the feces hitting the fan. I nodded to the bartender and a Cream Stout was slid down to me. Dolph walked over. "A guy was around asking if anyone had seen you."

"Who was he?"

"No name, sir." I frowned at Dolph.

"Apollo is fine Dolph, I'm not a commander any more. What did he look like?"

"Tall guy, he was wearing some sort of boots and his accent was one I don't think I've ever heard. Said stuff like feller and ya'll."

"Tex. If he comes back get him a room and notify me."

"Si... Apollo?"

"What is it Dolph?"

"We got you this." He handed me a box. The instant I pulled off the lid I could feel a huge smile cross my face. It was the smell of leather. I pulled out a very new leather jacket and saw a second in the box. The first reached almost to the floor when I placed it on my shoulders. The other was a leather motorcycle jacket. Unlike the one Luthien won from me, there was no outstanding marks on it. I took off the leather duster and put on the
riding jacket.

"Well I guess you guys get to hang around a bit longer." I flipped the bottle to Franz behind the bar and headed off into town to see to some errands. Legitimate business was curiously a great deal like smuggling. I seemed to be doing very well at the legit businesses I bought, but for the moment I thought it best to keep my involvement in them as secretive as possible. "Hire that bad back for another night."

"Dey kno' oonly un chord, Heir Maran."

"That's two more than anyone in this room knows." I headed out to my Harley in back and into town.