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Malachi Vilas
Jun 28, 2022
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ISS Ronin Near Earth Orbit 0600 STC, 27 June 2492 The alarm sounded in the cabin of the retrofitted freighter that served as the home for Malachi and his sleeping companion, Hanabira. Grunting, he reached over, slapping the panel alongside the bed twice before the metallic hand actually came into contact with the screen, and the acknowledgment tone of it being either sent to snooze, or disabled. After a few breaths of the overly rich purified air, he let his eye open, the readout of his scanner booting up overlaying his vision. A low grunt sounded, and he reached back, clumsily shaking the warm body alongside of him. "Hana--" His words came out as a croak, causing him to clear his throat with a cough, before the ragged, gravel edged baritone sounded out. "Hanabira. Get up. Breakfast time." He heard the whine, and felt her press into his back, the sensors in the cybernetic spine picking up on all of her life signs and reading them out on the optical hud that was fed into his brain. "Gaki. Breakfast!" He pushed at her again, and she sighed, rolling out of the bed and sliding her feet into her slippers. "Mō ichi-jikan ne sasete kuremasen ka, baka?" A moment later, she stood in spite of her objection, her naked, bruised form traipsing about the habitation compartment of the ship. "No, you can't sleep for another hour, gaki." Yes, their pet names for each other were insulting, a habit they had established over the years on Neo-Tokyo. He forced himself out of bed, and toward the shower stall as the scent of food filled the small cabin. Stepping in, he grabbed the soap, and turned on the spray, a plume of steam filling the space as hot water beat down on him. After a minute, his comms chirped, and he sighed. "Yes, Hanabira?" "Ano... You want sweet rice with your breakfast?" "I want whatever you cook, Hanabira. Within reason." "We will have sweet rice then with the links and eggs." "Ok, Hanabira." The comms remained open for a moment, and he turned his back to the shower spray. "Something else, Hanabira?" "Ano... can I watch?" He sighed. "No, gaki. Cook breakfast." He then disengaged the comms with a shake of his head, disconnecting from the net just to make sure she didn't hack his scanner. ISS Ronin Space Dock 2C, Cocoon Station 0830 STC "Roger Cocoon Traffic Control. Independent Space Ship Ronin giving over docking controls." Following the shower and breakfast, Malachi had set them on a course toward Cocoon Station, some 50000 Kilometers distant. The old hulk groaned in protest at the stresses the force of the thrusters put on the hull, at least until they were up to speed. A retirement present from his unit, The Hopper as it was known, was well out of date. Almost decommissioned completely, save for a few that had made it through the last century since they were initially built, it had been overhauled. Fitted with a more up to date engine that was far more efficient, it took up half the size of the engine compartment, though the remainder of the space was taken up by the supercomputer that had to adjust for the mass of the ship, the array of guns and the army of drones that saw to the day to day operation of The ISS Ronin. Disengaging the safety harness, he stood and grabbed hold of the auto-cannon that looked like it had been through some shit, the only part of it that wasn't scuffed or nicked being a silver plaque that read Lucille. Slinging it over his shoulder, the strap caught, and he swayed as it settled it across his back. Moving across the cabin, he came to a stop before the airlock just as the ship settled. It took a few moments, but Malachi could hear the bay doors lock shut, then the sound of air whoosh in, causing the access panel to flash green. Looking back to Hanabira, he eyed her a moment before giving a grunt. "Stay here, gaki." She pouted, but stayed in place, muttering to herself as he disappeared through the airlock, which closed and locked behind him. X-17 Earth 1315 STC Malachi grunted as the information filtered across his feed, sighing. "What the dreck. Collecting data cores for a shell company of the yakuza." Reaching down, he flipped the switch on the auto cannon, moving away from the small Free Company encampment. He moved with purpose, giving quite a few of the mutated creatures a wide berth, any that blocked his path getting a shower of bullets from the screaming barrel of Lucille. It took a good hour and a half, but he had cornered the mek that seemed to be guarding the small trove of items he needed access too. The machine wandered back and forth outside of what appeared to be a rusted bunker door set into the side of a rock wall. The Hawkeye scanner cycled through the radio bands, passively analyzing all of the signals coming from the robotic hulk. After a few minutes of debating his options, the Solo grunted and removed the ammo drum of standard bullets from it's connector, replacing it with a drum that was marked with all forms of warnings. Racking it, the readout panel signaled the gun was ready for action. Taking a deep breath, he popped up from his hiding position behind the boulder, letting the body of the weapon rest on the oversized rock. "Time to decommission this tin can." Before the Mek could turn on his location, the cybernetic finger squeezed the trigger, sending lances of radioactive green light interspersed with glowing white and orange rounds flying downrange. Sparks flew from the chassis of the robotic beast, smoke and fire exploding intermittently to tear the armor swiftly away. Just as the Mek's guns spun up, Malachi flung himself behind cover, making sure to grab Lucille. As the spray of bullets chewed away at the rock over his head, he waited for the machine to empty its magazine, before popping out to the side. Once again, barrel spun up, and the gun belched fire, throwing slug after slug toward the mechanized monstrosity. The Hawkeye picked up the outlines of an exposed ammo bin, and he ran a trail of bullets toward it until finally, one of the incendiary rounds punched through the thin shell of metal, touching off an explosion, followed by several smaller sympathetic ones. Breathing hard, Malachi removed the half empty specialty drum from Lucille, and replaced it with the standard round drum before standing up. Sighing, he slung the autocannon back over his shoulder, and brought up the data feed again as he approached the vault door. Keying in the code, he stepped back after its acknowledgment chirp, waiting for the barrier to roll away into its recess. Taking a deep breath, he activated the dark vision of his scanner, the lights built into his gear shifting to red so that he wouldn't be blind. "Well, here goes nothing." He readied Lucille as he entered the vault, closing it behind himself.
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Malachi Vilas

Malachi Vilas

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