06-02-2007, 01:53 AM | #31 |
IGNORE ME!
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Trent spent the better part of a half hour typing away at his datapad, be it with his fingers or directly linking to his mind. He screened through almost everyones personal files and records before he became curious about the final remaining member of the team, Aidan. Trent was a jerk but he was no fool, he created a series of escape pathways misleading guide programs before even daring to initiate a hack into the Sons database.
He had to do it from a cold start, using his login to hack would only defeat the purpose of hacking at all. It wasn't easy, even after years of making this his life's work he still only managed to gleam a fraction of information about Aidan before losing it all. He was quick about covering his tracks, he wondered briefly if it would be enough before bothering to process what he had read. "Archangel...." Trent murmured, he had heard of people that had Archangel clearance he once even received orders from a man whom received orders from an Archangel level Son. Trent had not however met anyone with that level clearance let alone jokingly called them 'boss'. How big is this...? Moments later Trent was asleep, minutes after that he was awake again. He bumped his head against the metal privacy screen as he stammered, "I'm always ready." Rubbing his forehead angrily as the jumble of a dream drifted further from his recollection he opened the privacy screen and leapt down. Eager for another cigarette to sooth himself. As he began on the second puff he opened his eyes to see Dominique screwing with one of the scanners. He didn't mind, not even when she focused it on him, "So, does it say I'm human?" Trent asked, an austere smile spreading across his face.
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President of the Official Zombie Horde: Shambling mess / Friend of Zombie Bear I was just playing around with my imagination and then everything got INTENSE. |
06-03-2007, 12:46 AM | #32 |
Burn.
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Aya tossed and turned in the cot that she was in. From the looks of it, it appeared that she was having a bad dream or something to that effect.
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"Only the fool wishes to go into battle to beat someone for the satisfaction of beating someone." -A Thousand Sons Rules. Read them, know them, love them. |
06-03-2007, 09:01 AM | #33 |
Don't Hate Me 'Cause I'm Moe
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Harmonial Sanctum
Posts: 6,798
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"Yes," Dominique answered simply. "Trent Roman, age 29. Human caucasian male. Black hair and brown eyes. However, it does not say anything about you being a shameless playboy."
Her work was finished. Now it just came to waiting for the moment they would arrive. |
06-03-2007, 09:45 AM | #34 |
Bullet Bill
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"I'm good, actually. I find that lately, I have little need for sleep." Garret pushed a few more buttons on his infopad, causing a new paragraph of text to cascade down the screen.
"Let's get going, shall we?"
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"Bad spellers of the world, untie!" "As long as I'm wearing the collar, you don't have to worry." |
06-03-2007, 12:30 PM | #35 |
Master of Awesome
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Kais doesnt remember when he fell asleep, nor really for how long. He just remembered waking up with a start, in cold sweat. It was not unnatural for him to have disturbing dreams, however, so he pushed it from his mind as he got up to find a drink. He had drained all of his whiskey before he had even begun researching backgrounds via datapad.
His dreams usually consisted of a medley of his past kills. He didnt find it unusual, and he figured that others like him had similar dreams. He always found it hard to fully remember his dreams, but this one seemed easier than most. He remembered begin in a high rise, scoped in on the back of a businessman's head. He could see himself dressed as a hotel patron as he casually slipped a knife into a man's throat. They all seemed to be in black and white. The final scene he could remember, before he woke up, he was in a room, largely empty except for himself and a body at the other end. He began rummaging through the shuttle's large assortment of beverages, until he found a single, small bottle of whiskey. Obviously the Sons of Pluto didnt necessarily promote heavy drinking. He snatched the bottle and made his way back to his bed.
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You are the Sons of the Emperor, you are my Chosen Legion. Fail me not; throw back this horde to the shadows whence they came, and let our names send ripples of fear through the twisting chaos of the Nether! - Asyrdar Stormborne the Martyr Emperor |
06-03-2007, 01:24 PM | #36 |
Sent to the cornfield
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Aidan turned uncomfortably in his sleep, the prospects of a restful slumber long since robbed from him. He kept playing the events over in his head, trying to match up the evidence. But there was something missing. Something so out of place that he just couldn't shake the fact that there was more to the assassination.
After a few hours or so he gave up on it. He got up and moved to a tiny little computer console in the bunked quarters he stayed in. Already cramming a number of bunk-style beds into one room, there was little moving space available. A tiny, head-sized, display was wedged into a corner. He accessed the Sons' mainframe, but was interrupted almost immediately. A warning message indicated someone had tried to access his personal files. Someone damn good. He quickly force-severed the connection, and moved hurriedly to decipher how much got accessed. He sighed in relief, seeing that there was only broken pieces of the file transferred. Still, it was not something that made Aidan comfortable. Someone, possibly the killer, had accessed a heavily secured section of the Sons' mainframe. Almost just as expertly, they left no trace of their signal. The young man shook his head, "Why am I always given these assignments." He opened the hatch leading downwards, lightly jumping back to the main level of the vessel. He silently moved to the pilots seat, checking the autopilot status. He began working on various projects, trying to keep his mind occupied during the long voyage. Arranging security access for the members, ensuring their identities were secure and unbreakable. Deftly his hands danced across the panel as the only sound emenating from his area was the soft beeping noise everytime he made a selection. |
06-04-2007, 08:12 AM | #37 |
Bullet Bill
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HACKING ATTEMPT DETECTED.
The screen of Garret's infopad displayed the message in bright, large red type. Oh no, you don't, whoever you are. Garret leaped from his seat and sprinted to his cabin. He hurled himself into the seat next to the computer. The computer screen brightened, and his fingers flew across the keyboard. "Computer, activate security protocol Seraph Two-Alpha-Omega-Delta-Six. Lock." Few people can break through THAT security clearance. I'm not the Ambassador for nothing. The hacking message disappeared, the attempt had failed. Only his public file from the Terran Alliance, which contained very little truthful and not readily available information, had been transferred. No trace. He's good. But he better not try that again.
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"Bad spellers of the world, untie!" "As long as I'm wearing the collar, you don't have to worry." |
06-05-2007, 02:47 PM | #38 |
IGNORE ME!
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"Heh, then what good is the thing." Trent remarked calmly, though a thick sheen of sweat covered his forehead. "Thats information you could use, after all if you just opened your mind you'd realize the only point of shame is to take away from the good things in life."
Trent's stance had opened, he was leaning against one of the closed bunks just above Aya. He casually continued with a much less formal smile upon his face, "So tell me, Dominique Sapperfield, Age 27. Caucasian Human Female, Blond hair with eyes red and blue, respectively." Trent said casually, displaying the textbook knowledge of his new comrades. "What activities do you plan on doing with the remaining... 12 hours, shameless or other?" As Trent recalled, Hands were demon's in the sack.
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President of the Official Zombie Horde: Shambling mess / Friend of Zombie Bear I was just playing around with my imagination and then everything got INTENSE. |
06-06-2007, 12:19 AM | #39 |
Burn.
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A needle suddonly appeared by Trent's head, and judging from the angle, it was safe to assume that it was thrown by Aya, just rolled over on her cot, looking away from them as she went back to her restless sleep.
__________________
"Only the fool wishes to go into battle to beat someone for the satisfaction of beating someone." -A Thousand Sons Rules. Read them, know them, love them. |
06-06-2007, 09:40 AM | #40 |
Don't Hate Me 'Cause I'm Moe
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Harmonial Sanctum
Posts: 6,798
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"I was just going to exercise," Dominique said, catching on to what Trent was implying. "That kind of exercise would be acceptable."
Though not something that every Hand did, Dominique was actually trained in sexual interaction. It was more her superior Geist's request for himself than out of any specific mission qualification, but Dominique found use for those skills in the field as well on occasion. It could never hurt to refresh on those techniques. And it would pass the time. All two and a half minutes of the time. |
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