Assassination Vacation: Part 1

15 Years Ago
A backward World, in a backward part of the Galaxy

The fist came in fast from the right, taking me square in the jaw. My head whipped hard, my body hit the ground harder.

“What the frack?!” I spat out with the blood forming in my mouth.

A boot connected with my gut and I groaned and buckled over.

“Dimitri wants a word with you.” the voice from atop the boot snorted.

Dimitri…just what I needed right now….

“Bloody Hell. How about a nice comm call next time, shit.” I managed to get myself into a standing position and looked at my attacker in the eye. Well it was his chest actually, but my head wasn’t quite ready to look up to his face. “You tell Dimitri that I got it under control. I need like two more days…”

“Bullshit…you said that a week ago. Time’s up Bobby boy. Dimitri had enough with your lies.” The thug grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out of the ally and tossed me head first into a car.

At least it had leather seats.


“Robert, I clearly remember you saying to me that you would have the credits by the 1st. That was a lie. I understand your need to lie, I do...

Read More

Shadows Forming


She hit harder than I thought she would. I knew this wasn’t going to go well, but then, it didn’t start too well either…

I dumped Logan’s crumpled hull into the pad delicately enough for the landing gear to lock. It was ungraceful, to say the least, but when you are gasping for air as your life support fails, style is the least of your concerns. I’d been flying missions for CCP a while now, but this was the first time I’d crash-landed into one of their starports and needed them to save my life. They did their duties, but more out of curiosity than generosity.

I was cleared by the medical officer, and free to leave. The last 24 hours were a blur. I remembered seeing the station, and hitting the landing pad but… my head was still trying to piece everything back together. The smell of molten metal and the terrible grinding sound of a mutilated hull. Logan. I needed my ship. We landed, I remember we landed, and I am still alive, so he must be… somewhere…

The repair bill was acceptable, given the damage, but now I was stuck here for two days. I hoped I’d see some friendly faces but there seemed to be no trace of Dragons here. It was 6:26am...

Read More

Man on a Mission (Part 2)


Cloning Thargoids was an insane idea even for Colton Quincey.  This lab was compromised and time was running out.  JerichöX began considering his options rapidly.  He stared at the caged Thargoid.   “I wonder how they managed to experiment on you big guy.  I’m betting you’re perpetually pissed off.”

JerichöX looked back at the cage control panel, reviewing the buttons and switches.  It would be best to just plant his satchel charges all over the lab and make his escape from this place.  But he always preferred style over safety.  Maybe that was why trouble seemed to follow him.  Too bad he had executed all of the scientists; one would be handy to have right now.  Luckily JerichöX had been in some prison cages himself.  Prisons were what the universe considered penance for being an outlaw.  The price for being a bad boy was always prison or death.   He pushed the button labelled gas.  “Hope this does what I think it does,” JerichöX murmured to himself.  “If I accidentally turn this cage off, I’m a dead man.”  As soon as the button was depressed, gas started emitting from nozzles inset within the cell.  After a few seconds the Thargoid slumped to the cage floor...

Read More


I just cant get my head around it. At first I thought the change in mood was down to Furieux’s departure. But after the fallout had died down, I noticed a certain shift in attitude remained with a handful of the Dragons. Was it me? Were they resentful that others had looked to me to take the mantle of unofficial leader of the group? After all I had always been one of the guys, the one they felt they could come to when Furieux was either too drunk or to occupied with his latest conquest, but that seemed to have changed. I sat alone trying to ponder it out. Years as a slave, then at the card tables I had always been able to get a read on people, and I knew something wasn’t right. But these men and women I trusted with my life, hell I owed most of them my life and vice versa. We were more than a team, and while it looked like just a group of mercenaries who only cared for themselves from people looking in, they never saw that bond that was more akin to family than team mates. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that any of the guys would work against us.

But something really wasn’t sitting right, and trusting my gut I had learned was the best way to stay ahead of my enemies, and my gut...

Read More

Behind the Curtain

[ redacted ]
11 Sept 3301

“Do you know how long I’ve worked toward this singular moment??” He asked, his hands clasped behind his back gazing out the huge office window marveling at this cities landscape. The dense cloud cover made viewing the city below impossible, but the view that was afforded was breathtaking; three hundred and forty nine floors below Him the city teemed with people, and they were clueless. Skyscrapers rose up through low hanging clouds blinking with red and blue lights making them look like buoys on a murky billowing sea, ships of all makes rising and diving into the fogginess like mechanical fish. This planet, this entire system in fact benefited greatly due to the influence of the man staring out the massive oval window.

The question rhetorical. The fact is she was acutely aware of the length of time, the amount of will possessed and effort put forth towards this single endeavor; the creation of the 8th Dragon Squadron, and the eventual taking of PATOCUDA. She’d assisted Him every step of the way.

She answered anyway. “9.5 years Sir. ”

“That’s right Lizz, 9.5 long years.”

Elizabeth “Lizz” Frost; the 30 year old personal assistant of ...

Read More