StarCraft® II

Devroy Manufacturing (Redone)

Hey-o!

I have redone Devroy Manufacturing. It is COMPLETELY and ENTIRELY different. There are a few of the same characters and names, but other then that, they're practically different stories. I would appreciate it if you gave it a skim at least and maybe give me a few pointers as i'm a new writer.

Please leave comments, suggestions, all that jazz :)

On a side note, this will probably find it's way in a RP, so.... :)

Official Story Posts:

#2
#7
#12 (Music Track: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1Xq1LGLSeY)
#16-17
#21-22
#29-31
#50-55
#61-64
#82
#88
#96
#122-123
#132-133
#136-137
#140-142
#150-153
Edited by ThaneKrios on 5/14/2013 12:51 AM PDT
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Chapter 1

Markus Devroy peered out the passenger seat window of his Speedster 300. His designated driver drove smoothly through the evening air despite the increased traffic. The sun was setting near the mountains on the horizon in the distance. Markus could only see it for split seconds due to the skyscraping cylinder shaped buildings that passed by at as quickly as they came. The ground was barely visible due to extensive fog, smog and vehicles flying in every which direction.

Markus sighed as he thought about his destination and it’s implications. It had been five years since he had last talked to his father. He had joined the military Elites and became a killing machine. The elites took only the best of the best. You didn’t choose the elites, they chose you. After becoming an excellent marksman he was nominated to participate in “tryouts”. After demonstrating his incredible skills he was accepted into conditioning. Once he becomes an elite, there is no turning back, no looking back, period. You drop off the face of the universe never to return. You cut all ties with your family immediately and heartlessly. You are given multiple code names and fake identities. You become an agent of deception, destruction and diplomacy; whatever is needed to carry out your orders and help the Separatists in any and all ways possible. Markus accepted the offer and was given one last opportunity to connect with his father, Jacob Devroy before being unable to speak with him openly for years, at least until late retirement.

The last time he had spoken with his father had been on bad terms. They had a disagreement on the family company, Devroy Manufacturing. His father thought they should keep their resources directed at weapons. Markus wanted to expand the company to make more than just weapons, but tanks, ships, armor, and much more. The argument ended with Markus squandering his share of the company to expand their boarders. Devroy Manufacturing became the top weapon and arms manufacturer, but at the cost of Markus’ share of the company. His father took the money Markus had earned and used it to upgrade their production of weapons. That’s when Markus joined the military and got away from the corporate life. There was nothing left for him there anyways. He made a foolish move and Devroy Manufacturing was now owned by Jacob Devroy, nobody else. Now he was going to try and make it right while he had the chance. He only had one day, he had to make the most of it.

The fancy car slowed to a stop at Devroy Manufacturing headquarters VIP parking and Markus blinked his thoughts away. The passenger door glided away and Markus stepped out. He glanced at his clothing and assessed that he was wearing black cargo pants and an unzipped black hoodie with a grey tank-top under it. He grunted in disappointment and zipped up his hoodie. His father would feel disrespected by his clothing. It would have to do, though; it’s not like he had the time or the funds to turn around go buy proper clothes. Besides, he was probably fine, this was half his company anyways.

“Orders, sir?” the driver asked from his seat. Markus thought about it and ran his fingers through his black, medium length hair.
“Just” He extended his hand and waved it up and down gently, “stay here; I should only be an hour or two.” Disappointment drenched his façade as he tried to cover it with a smile.
“Yes, sir.” He asserted as the door slid closed with a soft hiss. Markus looked up at the glass door leading to the welcoming floor for the VIP’s with a sigh.
“Here we go.” He said quietly to himself, approaching the door.
Edited by ThaneKrios on 2/25/2013 8:01 PM PST
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I like.
Clean, well organized and precise.
...
Next bit?
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Thank you War! I feel I have become an extremely better writer over the... Weeks?

It's in the writing right now. :)
Edited by ThaneKrios on 2/25/2013 8:12 PM PST
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Practice'll do that to ya.

Good good, I eagerly await the next bit.
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Estimated time of arrival... Two hours considering I'll play skyrim for about one. xD

Edit- Gah! Okay, maybe a little more, I didn't realize how late it was and now I have to work out. :S
Edited by ThaneKrios on 2/26/2013 2:01 PM PST
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The first thing Markus saw was a clerk sitting behind a desk typing on a keyboard, her eyes glued to a computer screen. Her long blonde hair draped down to her shoulder blades. She had green glasses that complemented her blue eyes and round face.

“Excuse me,” Markus interrupted, “I’m here to see Mr. Devroy.” She didn’t even bother to offer a glance.

“Right, he has appointments booked until ten o’ clock. Come back tomorrow and he might be able to see you.” She stated bluntly. Markus cleared his throat. His eyes darted left and right instinctually checking for guards. He wasn’t planning any violence, of course, but paranoia had burned it’s place in Markus’ mind and he feared he would never be able to free himself of it. He defended his addiction to paranoia with the phrase ‘always be prepared’.

“Tell him Markus Devroy is here to see him.” He said, leaning in. She immediately broke free from the harness of the computer screen and examined him with wide eyes, assessing that he was truly Markus Devroy.

“Yes sir!” she exclaimed nervously. She called him sir out of habit. It wasn’t required anymore because Markus had sold his half of the company; he was no longer a shareholder. The desk clerk returned her wide eyes to the computer screen and typed more frantically than ever. Markus gave a short smirk and leaned back.

Shortly after, the intercom beeped. She directed her attention towards it and pushed a button. Markus’ father’s familiar voice rang through the output speakers.
“Send him down. Code seven, Susan.” His tone was direct and straight forward, lacking emotion. Not a good sign. Markus couldn’t help but wonder what code seven was.

“Code Seven?” He asked. His paranoia was beginning to eat at his mind.
“Please step into the elevator.” She commanded with her sweet desk clerk tone, intentionally ignoring his question. He eyed her carefully and she eyed him right back, her smile gone. Escape routes immediately began coursing through his mind. He dismissed them as quickly as possible, his inward struggle clearly visible in his eyes to anyone who was trained to look for such a thing. With the ring of a bell, the door to Markus’ left glided open. He sustained his stare at her until the third step towards the elevator.

Markus stepped into the elevator and turned around to see the desk clerk, “Susan”, as his father called her, continue typing on her computer. The doors slowly slid closed and just before they clamped shut, she turned her attention back to the intercom and said something. What she said Markus couldn’t quite make out, but one word was certain. “He.” His paranoid filled mind began racing with possibilities. He blocked them out as much as he could in an attempt to give his father the benefit of the doubt in every circumstance, even the silly ones. Markus breathed deeply then exhaled softly while gently rubbing his blue eyes. His eyes began to wander the walls of the elevator and found their way to a picture of the city. There were countless cylinder shaped buildings that came to a point. They reached the beautiful blue sky and rested, gleaming in the sun. Their bottoms couldn’t even be seen due to the clouds that bordered the base of each and every building.

Markus looked over at the picture that was sure to hang on the other wall. Sure enough, the image of the same city hung on the wall. The only difference, was one was at dusk. The starry night partnered with light that came from the windows consumed the picture. Markus shifted his gaze to his tennis shoes, than the elevator doors as the box he was contained in came to a stop. The elevator doors opened, revealing two men in suits and aviators.

“Step out of the elevator.” One commanded, beckoning Mark with a hand motion. With hesitation, Markus obeyed. Every muscle in his body pulsed with energy. The other man gently grabbed his wrists and lifted his arms so they were straight. He then began patting him down softly, checking for weapons. Markus relaxed slightly as the realization that no harm would come to him overpassed. The man stood up and backed away, giving a nod to the other. He then took a step back.

“Mr. Devroy will see you now.” He stated, turning around and leading the way down the hall. Markus followed and took note of the other man who followed him. They walked for a near thirty seconds before arriving at a wall-like door. The two men stationed themselves at each wall beside the door and gave emotionless faces, waiting for Markus to do something. He slowly stepped forward and to his surprise, the wall-like door began grinding open with the screeching of metal-to-metal. Markus winced at the sound and held back cringes of ear-splitting pain. Beyond the door was nothing but darkness. Markus took two cautious steps towards it and glanced at the two guards once more before entering the room. The first thing he noticed was his feet taking notice of the unfamiliar ground. Dirt. Dirt? His eyes adjusted and he assessed that he was in a cave-like room. The walls were solid rock and the ground was all dirt. Few lights hung from the ceiling and illuminated several tables and doors sprinkled throughout the “cave.”

His father’s endearing face was hardly noticeable in the dark. He sat nearly ten feet away.
“Hello Markus.”
Edited by ThaneKrios on 2/26/2013 1:35 PM PST
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Looks good, I like the interesting turn this has taken...
seems conflict within the company, or by an outside force, given the underground bunker...
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02/26/2013 04:18 PMPosted by Warhawk
seems conflict within the company, or by an outside force, given the underground bunker...


... :)

Thank you! I look forward to expanding on just what kind of conflict is going on in the company... In the next segment *Evil laugh*
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good job Thane. I like it so far. But is this story gonna be about him being an elite or something else?
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02/26/2013 04:35 PMPosted by darkra
good job Thane. I like it so far.


Thank you!!

02/26/2013 04:35 PMPosted by darkra
But is this story gonna be about him being an elite or something else?


His future as an elite will quickly... dissolve. ;) You'll have to keep reading.
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“Dad?” Markus always preferred calling his father “Dad”. He thought it was a fine line between being proper and respectful. He and his father had many disagreements, but Markus respected his father more than any other man. He was one that could always get things done behind the scenes, and still but a smile on any man’s face. He wouldn’t low ball people or try to pull any fast ones, even though he was primarily a salesman for most of his career. Now he has people that hire people that hire people to make the sales.

“I was hoping you would come by.” His aging voice came out groggily. Dim light from a lighter ignited before his face, illuminating a cigarrete in his mouth. He hadn’t smoked in years; something was very wrong. His short hair was greying. A small detail Markus hadn’t remembered from his childhood.

“Have a seat; we have much to talk about.” He said, gesturing to a hardly visible wooden chair behind a table in front of where his father was sitting. He approached it with near-trembling legs and sat down.

“Is there a light in here?” Markus asked, trying to keep the conversation light for as long as possible – or at least until he was ready.

“Sorry, there wasn’t much time to install many lights.”
“This is an odd addition to the headquarters.” The man blew a puff of smoke.
“You can never be too cautious, Mark.” An awkward silence filled the room. After a few seconds, Markus broke it.

“So, um, I am, uh.” His father’s eyes met with his and it quickly became more awkward as Markus struggled to find the right words. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been accepted to become an elite.” He finally said. His father’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” He was more enthusiastic then Markus had anticipated. “When do you launch?” He asked, leaning in.
“Tomorrow.” He answered honestly.

“Good, good. The Separatist military is the safest place for you.” Markus looked puzzled. Normally a parent wouldn’t want his son on the front lines, let alone in the special forces.

“Since when is the frontlines the safest place to be?” Markus asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. He was tempted to put his feet up on the table like he had dozens of times in the multiple training camps he had been to, but thought it would send of the wrong message. Jacob Devroy’s eyes froze as their gaze fixed on nothing. His jaw shifted.

“These are dark days.” Markus bore a puzzled face once again. He tried to think of an event that might have caused him to say that. He couldn’t think of one.

“What? These days are as bright as it gets. The Separatists are thriving more than ever, colonies are being born everywhere, our government is the strongest out of any outlying system, it doesn’t get any brighter than this!” Markus explained, using the frequent hand motion to support his point.

“Not for the government, Markus, for the com-“ He was interrupted by a man who was fully armed with Devroy manufactured scout’s armor with a Devroy designed pistol on his side and rifle hanging on his back. Simply put, he had the best equipment available. He had a phone in his hand and the other was tapping Jacob Devroy’s shoulder.

“Sir, it’s for you.” He gave the phone to Mark’s father and he raised it to his ear.
“Hello?” He said into the receiving end. “Hello?” He repeated. Markus could hear the phone cut out. Jacob slowly gave the phone back to the guard, who casually walked away with it.

“What was that?” Markus asked urgently. The smashing realization that something was very, very wrong hit Markus in the chest like a baseball bat.
“I’m not sure.” He replied, standing up. Markus could see right through the obvious lie. Jacob Devroy began to walk through the darkness. Mark followed, the dirt crunching under his feet with every step.

“Bull sh-“
“I said I don’t know!” He yelled, turning around and looking Markus in the eye. He then turned around and kept walking, leaving Markus stunned. He turned and looked at a man who was standing at attention. “John, I want that door locked and sealed, you hear me? Locked and sealed!” He turned and looked at another man. “Get every security turret online, now!”

“Dad, what the hell is going on?”
“Son, look at me.” He did as his father instructed. “Run.”
“What?”
“Run. Run for your life. They’re here, and they will kill me, and you, and-“
“Who? Who will kill- What!?”
“There is no time for goodbye! Now go!” He barked, jabbing his finger at an elevator similar to the one that brought him here.

“No time for goodbye? There was hardly time for hello!”
“Son, I can’t say this again, if you want to get out alive, run for your life.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Dad, until you tell me what the hell is going on.” His father grunted and kept walking.

“Go! You stubborn boy!” Markus followed him into a strange walk-in closet looking room. It was only until Markus had a closer look that he could see it was a small armory. He was about to ask another question when he heard a muffled explosion from behind the giant, foot-wide, ear-splitting door that Markus had come through to get into the strange bunker type room.

“Markus” Jacob began, “Don’t put your life in someone’s hands, their bound to steal it away.”
“What?” Markus asked in complete and utter confusion. Jacob ignored him and kept talking.
“Don’t hide your mistakes or they will find you and burn you.” His voice was more sincere than ever.

“This is the last time we will ever be able to see each other. It’s hard to imagine but one day you’ll end up like me, an old man with everything, yet nothing.” Jacob was slapping magazines in weapons and checking the charges of energy swords.

“Pa, you’re making no sense!” Markus was trying to swallow the lump in his throat, but every attempt proved futile. The last time he had called his father ‘Pa’ was nearly fifteen years ago, as a small child.

“If I stay it won’t be long until they find me.” He assessed. His mind was racing, but obviously clear. “If I go I can only hope that fate has just a little more in store for me.” Jacob was talking to himself. He always did when he was thinking hard. He then grabbed a standard, Devroy Manufactured pistol and dropped it in Markus’ hands.

“There is little else to say, you must go.”
“Go? Go where?” Markus asked with an overly exaggerated shrug.
“There is a transport waiting on the fifteenth floor in a hidden hangar, make it there in five.” He explained, stepping out of the closet with a large automatic rifle. Markus hadn’t noticed until he had followed his father out of the closet, but there was a steady banging on the hefty door.

“Dad, I’m not leaving you!”
“I’m not asking, I’m telling. Go!”
“Why can’t you come with me?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because- I-“
“Why!?

“I’m not” He looked down and clamped his eyes shut as if wanting to wake from a terrible, terrible nightmare. “Strong enough.” He finished. Markus didn’t even know how to respond to that. Just when he was going to open his mouth, the door exploded and Markus found himself tasting the dirt. He stammered to his feet and looked around.

“Go! Go!” He heard his father’s voice through the dust and smoke that filled the small room. Markus’ legs began running towards the elevator without his permission. His ears produced a constant ringing that was piercing his mind. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the obvious gunshots that echoed in rapid succession. Muzzle-fire was easily seen through the smoke and dust as Markus dove for the elevator, but he wasn’t sure it would catch him as he was farther away than he anticipated.

The gun fire continued. So much gunfire. Markus’ head was filled with cloudy thoughts and emotions. He didn’t even realize he was being dragged away until all fell silent. He found himself looking at his father, who was without armor, crouching behind a barricade as multiple rounds caused the dirt around him to scatter and fly like fireworks on the Twenty-sixth of May. Markus could hear himself screaming, but didn’t recognize his own voice. Before he knew how far he had been drug, two glass doors separated him from the chaos that was ensuing and the ground began to lift him up. Someone had drug him into the elevator. Markus scrambled to his knees and pounded on the glass.

“No!”
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...
Nice.

A little confusing at the end there, I'm not quite sure what's happening. (just who is dragging Markus?)

I also like the references to Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace.
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...
Nice.

A little confusing at the end there, I'm not quite sure what's happening. (just who is dragging Markus?)

I also like the references to Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace.


The song connected so well I just had to put references in there. :) Like... I had this whole thing planned out in my mind before I heard the song and then I was like 0_0 Holy crap this fits so well!

Edit- I have found music directly influences my writing. I love music and am always listening to it when I write. There will probably be more things like that, whether that's good or bad.

The reader doesn't know who is dragging Markus until the next segment. You are also not suppose to know exactly what's happening, mostly because Markus doesn't even know what's happening.

As long as you read it, you are exactly where you are suppose to be :)

Thank's for reading!
Edited by ThaneKrios on 2/27/2013 1:54 PM PST
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Gah! Didn't write at all today :S

Hopefully tomorrow I'll get some words on paper. You can safely expect one segment a day. (With the occasional exception.)
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“Calm down!” A sweet, but firm female voice said behind him. Markus turned around and saw two men and a women. They were fully armed to the teeth with rifles, side arms, laser swords and light explosives.

“Calm down?” Markus asked, standing up and getting in her face. “Calm down!? We just left him to die!” His sorrow was turning more into anger than anything else. “I just left him to die!” He gestured to his chest. “His own son!” The young brown haired women had her hair in a ponytail. She raised her hands and gestured to calm down.

“And his death will be in vain if you don’t pull it together.” Markus gritted his teeth and scrunched his lips.

“There wasn’t even time to say goodbye.” He said, biting his lower lip and looking at his feet.
“There usually isn’t, now-“

“Who did it?” Markus interrupted, drilling the woman. “Who barged into my house and assaulted me and my loved ones?” His eyes were full of determination and rage. All they needed was a target. Markus was being wound up and only heaven knew how he would unwind. Or, more accurately, who he would unwind on. The women looked to her left at a man who looked back at her. They locked eyes for a few seconds.

“Your father didn’t tell you?” She queried, looking back at Markus.

“Tell me? Tell me what!?” The women sighed and her inner conflict was obviously seen through her eyes.

“I’m not sure it should come from me – you being who you are.”
“Me being- what? Just tell me!” She inhaled to speak, but let it exit her lounges in another sigh. Once again, she inhaled and opened her mouth to speak, but this time, her eyes went wide and she shoved Markus to the wall of the elevator.

“Look out!” She shouted, her voice slightly strained. Markus’ hit the wall and watched as the two men and woman lined up their rifles and pressed the trigger to the back of the trigger guard, allowing a river of bullets to spew forth down range. They ran out of the elevator, guns still blazing. Markus peeked around the corner and two rounds connected with the back of the elevator, inches from his head, leaving a black mark on the wall. He darted back to safety and swore. The firefight continued for nearly a minute before the sound of laser to metal rang through the walls of the elevator coupled with a yelp and a thud.

“Man down!” Markus heard the women yell. The pitter patter of feet against the recently shined floors could be easily heard along with her audible roll.

“Man down, I repeat, man down! Jenkins took one to the face.” The women called into her radio. She swore, then poked her head up coupled with her rifle snug against her shoulder and yanked the trigger back and didn’t let go. A stream of plasma pummeled the wall on the other side of the hall as men dove for cover.

“Markus, move!” She yelled, giving her trigger-finger a break before throwing more plasma down range. Markus couldn’t see the men’s uniforms to discover who their attackers were. He just ran out of the elevator and dove behind some crates full of weapon parts. They were at the industrial level now. It had been closed down since new factories were built planet wide, but it was still used as a storage unit for old models.

“Plan B” The women said, crawling over to Markus as she pulled out a strange attachment and attached it to her rifle. It beeped, signaling that it had been attached correctly and was ready to fire – or do whatever it was meant to do. It was the latest tech in Devroy software. The weapon would know whether something was wrong and alert you when everything was good to go, or if the gun was going to explode in your face. She closed her eyes and arched the weapon upward, switching a small switch and pulling the trigger. A small object, about the size of the palm of your hand, launched out of the attachment and downrange. A large explosion drowned all other sounds as debris flew from over the crates while screams and an orange glow painted the room. The explosion was obviously catastrophic to the enemy because all firing stopped.

“I didn’t want to have to use that.” She admitted, detaching the extension to her rifle and snapping it back on her belt. She pulled off another one and snapped it on her rifle. Markus had wide eyes and couldn’t control his frantic breathing.

“What” Markus thought out loud, “was that?”
“Latest version of the silencer grenade.”

“The silencer grenade? It doesn’t really live up to it’s name, does it?” She looked up,
“It’s not supposed to be silent.” Their eyes locked, “It’s supposed to silence.” She resumed attaching a strange device to the top of her rifle in place of the scope.

“That thing must have cost a fortune.” Markus remarked, looking over the crates and seeing a giant hole where the floor and walls used to be. Simply put, it completely eradicated everything.

“You want to know? You bought it.” She said humorously, but not a smile cracked from the joke. She was referring to the funds Markus squandered to expand Devroy Manufacturing’s boarders to make explosives and such. A touchy joke. The women aimed at the window beside Markus and shot it. shattered glass showered them as heavy wind deafened the hall.

“What are you doing?” Markus shouted over the wind.

“Plan B.” she answered simply, attaching something to her belt and firing a strange cable on the wall. She then attached a small cable to a harness and wrapped it around Markus.

“Don’t worry, this can hold seven Speedsters.” She assured, attaching yet another cable to her belt, then Markus’ harness, effectively locking him to her belt. She then stood up and brought Markus with her, looking down the side of the building.

“Seven speedsters, huh?” Markus asked, joining her gaze through hundreds of speeders tearing through the air, just feet from the side of the building.
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“Ready?” She asked, their faces but inches from each other. He nodded his head and their foreheads almost made contact. She strapped her gun to her back and wrapped her arms around Markus. He hugged her tightly and she jumped off the edge.

The two plummeted through the air at increasing speeds as speeders of every kind whizzed past their heads. They had only dropped a couple hundred feet when their descent slowed to a stop. The two hung awkwardly close to each other suspended in midair. The wind gently tugged them in different directions as the only thing audible, the several speedsters whirring past them at ludicrous speeds, echoed off the glass wall, just feet from the couple. The sun had almost set past the horizon, creating an increasing lack of sunlight.

“Well this is romantic.” Markus jested, hopelessly looking around.
“It’s okay, I can get us out of this.” The brown-haired women assured, looking around for heaven knows what.

“I’m good, take your time.” Markus remarked sarcastically after flailing in an attempt to dodge a speedster that almost hit them at full speed. “Hey, while we’re here waiting to become roadkill, could I catch your name?” She didn’t stop looking for a solution out of their predicament, but still answered.

“Lt. Ashley Sanders, Separatist Elites.”

“Markus Dev-“ Markus began, but Ashley finished for him, “-roy, 5’ 11” born May 1, 2998. Caucasian, Hazel eyes, scheduled for deployment tomorrow. I’ve studied your file.” Their eyes met for a good ten seconds before she resumed looking for a way out of their awkward position. Their hips were joined, so it wasn’t completely awkward, but it was still two inches too close.

“What?” Markus asked, looking up at her.
“Nothing, nothing.” She assured, finally coming up with an idea, “I just didn’t want to have to do this.” Ashley held a finger to her ear piece and spoke urgently

“Delta or Bravo, this is Sanders, I need code three extraction via Black Skimmer, over.”
“Black Skimmer?” Ashley couldn’t hide her large grin.
“Never heard of anything not Devroy Manufactured, eh Markus?”

Suddenly, a huge, black, double propeller, gunship roared around the block and towards the two. It’s combustion engines drowned all other sounds as it’s impressive duel fifty caliber chain guns came closer and closer. Eventually it hovered right beside them. a mann dressed in full black light armor grabbed the two and pulled them into the gunship. Ashley detached the cable, then cut the one joining them.

“I thought this was going to be used as a last resort.” Asked the man who was fully covered from head to toe with armor. The only skin that showed was his mouth. His teeth were gleaming white. His skin was brown – likely an African.

“It was. Our escape route was blocked, they got there too fast.”
“Well a Black Skimmer through the streets ain’t exactly subtle.”
“Neither is firefights in the halls of Devroy Headquarters, but it was necessary.”
“I don’t know how they got there so fast. They must have hit earlier than we anticipated.” Markus cleared his throat.

“Who’s they?” He asked sternly. The desire to know still burned in Markus’ mind.
“Sorry about that.” He whispered sheepishly, slipping through a doorway to the back of the craft. Ashley watched him leave, then sighed.

“Markus,” She began, looking at her feet, “I was hoping I wasn’t the one to have to tell you.” Before she had the chance to say more, the pilot looked back,
“Sanders, we got two birds on our tail!” He warned.

“Yeah, give me a second!” She barked, turning back towards Markus, but her eyes remained on the floor.

“Just tell me!” He insisted. All the secrecy was getting irritating. The sound of plasma ripping through the air disrupted the silence. Ashley gritted her teeth and jerked her head, biting off a curse.

“Get on that gun!” She ordered, gesturing to a fifty cal. that was emerging from the ground. He grabbed her shoulder, halting her journey to the cockpit.
“Not until you answer me!”

“The answer you’re looking for will only bring you pain, Markus!” She said, balancing herself as the craft began to make evasive maneuvers.

“I’m looking for the truth, Ashley!” Markus said, tightening his grip on her shoulder unintentionally. Her eyes met his and all Markus saw was sorrow. He could see she felt bad for him. But why?

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” She said, her mouth beginning to arch. She hit a button on the wall and a door slid between them. He quickly pulled his arm away and sighed.
“You going to get on that gun, sport?” Asked the man who had retreated to the back of the craft.

“Not until I know exactly who i’m shooting at.” Markus demanded, folding his arms. Just after the words left his mouth, a bullet whizzed past his head and smashed into the wall behind him. Markus instinctively hit the floor.

“Now!” He didn’t have to be asked a third time. Markus scrambled to get behind the turret. This time it was the latest model of a 50 cal. Markus gritted his teeth as he lined up the sights and put the blue fighter in the middle of them. He held the trigger down and watched as it slowly but surely tore the craft to pieces. He didn’t even bother releasing the trigger from his grip while transitioning targets. This one proved more difficult. It moved around in such a way to dodge ever shot, then returned fire. Lasers impaled the internals of the Black Skimmer and nearly hit Markus. One connected with the turret and it went up in sparks. The turret rolled off it’s unipod and fell off the edge, plummeting out of control down to the city as Markus jumped back.

The gunship rotated around, then shook as it released a rocket before turning back around and resuming it’s coarse. As it turned back around, Markus could see the rocket head for it’s target – the fighter jet. It connected with a large explosion as pieces of shattered and burning metal fell to the ground. Two walls closed off the sides of the gunship, leaving Markus alone in the dark. He decided to stay on the floor. Alone. Completely and utterly alone. It took everything within him not to break down in tears. The tears would come – but not yet. Not until he found out what was going on. His father wouldn’t want Markus to weep for him unless he was treated unjustly. That information was yet to be revealed.
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I know it's alot, sorry guys. I haven't written for a long time, life caught up to me. All of the sudden this hit me in the face. I wrote it all and couldn't find a good place to cut it into two segments so just left it as one large one. Sorry 'bout that.

Hope you enjoy it!
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Well, well, well, That was certainly an interesting turn of events. Well done, just make sure NOT to speed up the pace or skimp on the details. I'm lovin' it so far.

However given that Markus is special forces, it doesn't make sense that he wouldn't shoot first and as questions later... Then again, he just lost his dad, so that would shake anybody up. Just a minor quibbling point.
Edited by Warhawk on 3/12/2013 3:54 PM PDT
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Well, well, well, That was certainly an interesting turn of events. Well done, just make sure NOT to speed up the pace or skimp on the details. I'm lovin' it so far.


I feared I might have sped it up just a wee bit. But I don't think I did too much. Glad you're enjoying it! I will make sure to not skimp the details or speed up the pace, thanks! This is the stage of the story where the hero is the victim, so it's just the beginning. >:D

However given that Markus is special forces, it doesn't make sense that he wouldn't shoot first and as questions later... Then again, he just lost his dad, so that would shake anybody up. Just a minor quibbling point.


This is interesting... I didn't even think about this. However, I think there are explanations. First off... He has nothing to shoot at. He still doesn't even know who is doing this. However, he will find out this next segment ;)

I think it will be a good one >:)

Thanks for reading!
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