Shippingitp IV: Flattery Will Get You EVERYWHERE

[Reinholdt]

@ Happy- If I manage to stop laughing I'd tell you how awesome this is.

@ Thufir- A double whammy of funny. Good. I missed these ships. Thank you sir for the awesome.

Cristo's last post since I quasi-backwards-ninja'd him:

Quick summary:

Rabbit and I finally brought Mordokai down

GW once again created a shortage of brain acid

Koorli continued to prove that sometimes 100 words is all you need

Now everyone's trying to redeem Mordokai

[TwoBitWriter]

Don't forget that Twobit is now officially brothers with Cristo, and is now Dragonrider and Curly's father...

And Mordokai and I shared a beer over the internet on New Years. (I took a shot dedicated to you, Dirk)

[Mordokai]

Quick summary:

Rabbit and I finally brought Mordokai down

Remind me to kick your girly ass because of that.

[Cristo Meyers]

Remind me to kick your girly ass because of that.

I didn't hear you complaining when it happened...

...in fact, you seemed rather happy.

[Mordokai]

Do I look happy now?

Do I?!

[Cristo Meyers]

That smile is kinda manic...

Come on back to the light, if it means so much to you...some folks just aren't cut out for the life of evil...

[Mordokai]

You know... it doesn't take much for Christine to find herself in Flora's place...

[ghost_warlock]

Quick summary:

Rabbit and I finally bought Mordokai some decent armor

GW was so sexy he created a shortage of women's underwear

Koorli proved once and for all that squid bones are imaginary

Now everyone's fighting over Mordokai's dryad

Fixed the spelling mistakes for you, Cristo.

[TwoBitWriter]

I don't think Curly has proven that little factoid about squid bones quite yet...

[Draken]

I am not sure about bones but I am sure squids have at least one bone.

And not everyone is trying to redeem mordy, some of us are his evil underlings *pokes Mangosta*, some of us want all of them who have paladin levels, fallen or not, to go tumbling into flaming tar so we can take over the world *points at Mag*.

[Deathslayer7]

awesomely done Happy.

[Coidzor]

And You? ... ... Whatever you are... What's your game in all this, eh?

*squints through his magnifying glass and attempts to poke with his cane, simultaneously, with flagellating results*

everybody want de dryad... Kinda makes you sorry for those that get the ...barkskin variety. You got Bark-burn on your what!?

[Lex-Kat]

Ship Wars

Episode V: The Empire Ships Back
Part 6

Introducing:
Deathslayer7 as Liriel
Saint Nil as Master Saint Nil Yoda

(Full cast list and links to previous instalments here)

Spoiler

Show

*SNIP*

Perfect, Turtle. Perfect!!

[Korith]

Ed: Hope I didn't overreach with Korith with the cannibalism and the wearing of skin.

Iiiinteresting....

The original* Korith is a Tiefling. If that still holds, then unless his food was also Tiefling, it's just the consumption of intelligent species - nothing at all like cannibalism

As for the wearing of skin, most creatures find skin is very comfortable. Why would Korith be any different?

* The ORIGINAL Korith on these forums was actually an imp, who advanced over time to a Pit Fiend - but the D&D Korith precedes the imp.

[Dirk Kris]

OK, having caught up...

Twobi - loved Shipper's Carol. Well played, chum!
Reinholdt, loved your XMas fic!
RHL - the Maggy/Rabbit fic was great - I can so see that happening.
Raist - daaaaaaaaaaaw! I would SO marry you if it were legal in any kind of way.
Destro, consider me willing at any time.

Crappit, now I forgot who wrote me in as creepy Dirk...but I loved that, too!

Though I will say I am very disappointed in you, Mordokai. All those years of resisting temptation, I figured you and your goodness would be the one thing I could always count on. I see I was wrong.

And I know it spawned a lot of fun and good times for everyone, but I'm still a little let down over it. Shame on you, Mordy. I refuse to write myself in with bad Mordy. So i guess that means if I'm included, it's on the side of good or self-absorbed.

I have an idea for a fic rolling around in my head that I hope I can post today, then back to diligently working on the now nearly-forgotten IStLY series.

[Cristo Meyers]

Crappit, now I forgot who wrote me in as creepy Dirk...but I loved that, too!

Me, mayhap?

[Mordokai]

*bows head and points at Cristo Christine*

It's all his her fault! Blame him her!

[Lex-Kat]

Hm. What IStLY series?

[Cristo Meyers]

*bows head and points at Cristo Christine*

It's all his her fault! Blame him her!

"I'm just waiting for banjo to write up the narration..."

Remember that, hmm? Remember that little line, blackguard boy?

You wanted it, you know you did.

[TwoBitWriter]

Because this story is so damn unwieldy to continue posting chapter by chapter. I have decided to post smaller parts of a single larger chapter so that it fit's a story-arc kind of format.

So here, re-formatted is the next installment of...

MAT Squad Journals

Chapter 7: Shootout at the Andrios Canyon

Part 1: Randman2222, Mangosta, Mauve Shirt
Mentions: Ranna and Mordokai

Spoiler

Show

Randman ran his fingers gently over the cold Tritanium of his Rebel MAT suit. It was a true technological marvel. Each component the result of years of research in cybernetics and robotics. This is what every soldier in the Confederate military was equipped with. Randman now understood why its secrets were so jealously guarded.

The suit consisted of multiple components that fit together to create an environmentally contained unit. Each part fit over the user until he was completely sealed off from the harshest of climates and armored against most small arms. It was equipped with enough air filters and vents that it could allow the user to operate in nearly any environment.

There were also two air tanks on the back, just above the microscopic fission reactor that powered the entire system. This had served to raise rumors that it could even operate in the vacuum of space. In all honesty, Randman would rather be in a Cheetah while in space. There really wouldn’t be much a MAT could do.

Well, unless they were somehow attached to the surface of a vessel. Their small arms fire wouldn’t do much good against the speed of a space fighter. Now if they were to operate a ship’s deck guns...

Randman shook his head, he was daydreaming again. Who in their right mind would want to walk and fight in space without being in a ship?

A grey painted Tritanium shell covered every inch save for the glassteel faceplate in the helmet. He had been informed the week before that the faceplate itself had several sensors interwoven into the glass to create a personal HUD, much like his Cheetah fighter. All in all, the suit added not only girth, but also several inches to the height of the soldier. It was also supposed to nearly triple his physical capabilities. Truly this was forcing evolution of human kind to a whole new level.

Randman ran his fingers over the Black Foxes insignia that was emblazoned on the left shoulder with pride. Only the elite MAT units had such a distinguishing mark. If Ranna had only known...

No, Ranna would not be proud, she would be terrified. Randman didn’t like lying to her about what he was actually doing. Ranna thought that he was working on a home guard detail, flying for Confederate officials in an escort squadron while proudly showing off his Order of Comets medal. The charade would have to continue for a while.

The Black Foxes had spent what had seemed countless months training in advanced infantry tactics in order to better fulfill their role as a dual space and planetary unit. Mordokai had drilled and drilled them until they were sore. He didn’t stop until he had felt that the pilots had the confidence and ability to fight planetside.

“Remember,” Mordokai had said, “in space you had an eject button and countless war conduct laws to protect you. But here, the MAT armor will only shield you for so long.”

Currently they were stationed at Fort Barbary, which had been built to protect a vital MAT production factory on the planet Andrios.

Randman had never actually worn his suit in combat before. And that was something that he had been eternally thankful for. While the rest of the squad was growing restless, Randman was perfectly content with his regular communications with Ranna, each time while wearing his flight suit.

It was still at least an hour before sunrise, so no one else was around. He had snuck out just to take an early look at his Rebel suit. He had been prone to such lately. It had surprised Randman that he always noticed something different about his suit on each morning that he visited it.

There was an itch at the back of Randman’s head. When he reached back to scratch, his fingers bumped into the cold metal of the MAT implant on the base of his neck.

The implant still nagged at his mind, and it was still prone to itching every now and then. To Randman that was the cruelest irony of all. Here he was, fighting to protect a home that he would likely be forced to abandon once they had won the war. Supposedly the implant could be removed, but he somehow doubted it. He didn't really mind it being there, but was very concerned how Ranna would feel if he came home with it.

“It’s a shame we have to be stationed at some backwater place like this and chasing pirates instead of going where the real action is,” Mangosta’s voice came from behind Randman.

Randman, startled, nearly fell off of the bench he had been sitting on. He gripped the locker door for support, but the sudden movement caused his Rebel’s helmet to fall loose from its stand the locker and crash to the steel floor with a resounding clatter.

Randman whirled around furiously. Mangosta burst out laughing.

“You should see your face, Randman!”

“It doesn’t really matter anyhow. Why are you up so early?” Randman asked.

“I don’t know, why are you?”

Randman opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Defeated, he clamped his jaw shut and picked his helmet off of the floor. “Where would you have us go, Mangosta?” He said numbly.

Mangosta sat on the Randmanch beside Randman and gave a low whistle. “I don’t know really, there are so many. The Trenalian, Alasion, or Grabaldan offensives. Take your pick. You heard about what happened in the Hanchaki sector right?”

Randman had not. He shook his head.

“Well, I heard this from a reliable source. Apparently two weeks ago, a single company of soldiers, mostly Rebel suits but there were a handful of Hercules, successfully held a defensive position against a grabaldan force nearly ten times their number.”

Randman raised an eyebrow. “What happened after that?”

“Well, we won, or at least the grabaldan decided that their objective really wasn’t worth the effort. They are so unpredictable. They really never need objectives, they just fight wherever and whenever they encounter us. It’s like they are always on one big seek and destroy mission.”

“If that works for them, I am sure that that makes them our greatest ally in this conflict,” Randman said dryly.

Mangosta snorted. “Maybe you are right. But what I wouldn’t give to have been there mixing it up.”

“That makes one of us,” Randman said.

“Really? That happened to your killer spirit?”

“I don’t like having to lie to Ranna all the time about what I have been actually doing,” Randman said.

Mangosta looked at Randman, his lips curled. “I thought that I had noticed a change in you. Ever since the incident with the Prodigy you have lost your spine. Except for that tirade back at the hospital you have changed.”

Randman nodded, “You are right. I am tired of fighting. I have missed too many of my son’s birthdays."

Mangosta scoffed. “We haven’t been at war for too long. You need to stop worrying so much. If your number comes up next, then Ranna gets a fat compensation from your military insurance."

Randman nodded gravely, and the two men sat silently staring at the steel floor of the barracks.

A few beams of light appeared through the cracks in the armory window shutters, casting the room in a soft, natural orange glow and signaling the arrival of the morning. Randman savored the light. It wasn’t as fulfilling as the sun at Freeport, but at least it was natural. After all the months he had spent encased in artificial, this hellish planet seemed to have been a gift of heaven.

Mangosta yawned. “Today we are going to suit up in these things and start another patrol. And this time we are going to check out that canyon nearby."

“The one with all the caves?” Randman asked.

“Yep, that’s the one, come on,” Mangosta said, standing up.

Randman stood, feeling his knees pop. He winced, even though it didn’t hurt, and stretched widely. “Should be about time for everyone else to wake up.”

“Hard to tell on this planet,” Mangosta said with a scoff. “Two suns leave little room for nightfall.”

They stepped out of the armory into the main courtyard of Fort Barbary. Green dust swirled at their feet from the constant winds that swept over the surface of Andrios. Randman had never seen dirt such as this before. He had asked one of the sentries stationed here. The man had informed him that the coloration was a result of a high level of copper in the soil.

But that was just the beginning. Andrios was one of few planets in the galaxy that actually had naturally occurring veins of triple bonded titanium, or Tritanium. It was the metal that was used in MAT armor and was thus an essential resource in the Confederate war effort.

Take the green surface and combine it with a deep violet sky complete with two suns, and one was sure to feel out of place. Randman certainly did. He had never been on such an alien world before. It was nothing like his home on the more human friendly Freeport.

If not for the protective enviro shield that encapsulated the entire colony, everything man made would have been ground into dust by massive green sandstorms. Luckily, the first explorers to reach Andrios had discovered that all of the sandstorms raged on a timed basis, and rarely fell out of synch. They were able to map the storms and thus found an optimal place to settle. It made it the perfect place for a secret factory, Randman mused.

Colonists were secretly picked by the Confederate government to work here at the factories. They had been allowed to take their families with them but were not allowed to tell anyone where they were going.

Other soldiers, were walking about the yard. Most were emerging from the barracks. These moved slowly and had dark circles under their eyes. The vast majority of these men and women were regular planet command MAT’s and were thusly made up of enlisted men.

“I always thought it was funny,” Randman said to Mangosta as they passed a squad of the regulars, “that we will be doing planet missions but our ranks are unchanged. I am essentially a corporal and you are a sergeant,” Randman said.

“Indeed, I think it’s the first time in the history of modern warfare that an infantry combat unit is composed entirely of officers,” Mangosta said.

“You know,” Randman started. “I joined Space Command because I didn’t want to fight on the ground.” He tried to add a hint of irony to what he had said.

The effect seemed to have been lost on Mangosta. “That’s a laugh, Randman. You know that you could have transferred to another combat squadron, like some did. Would you have preferred flying cargo?”

Randman snorted. “I need just a bit more excitement than that.” That wasn’t the real reason. Randman had been too afraid to leave his friends behind. He didn’t like the idea of them fighting without him by their side. He knew that that contradicted directly with his feelings earlier in the armory. He certainly understood why most servicemen and women were single.

The two men entered the mess tent. It was a greenish color, to match the outside dust. Even though they were in human space, the base commander felt it best to be prepared no matter what the situation.

The tent was large, large enough for an entire squad to sit. Rows of wooden Randmanches sat on each side of several folding metal tables. At the opposite end sat the cook and before him, a line of hungry soldiers. The cook would dip a giant ladle into the pot and then proceed to slop some unknown material onto the tray that had thrust in front of him. The inevitable scowl of disgust and the occasional swear words would follow by the receiver.

The cook seemed to take it all in stride. His only response would be to wave the man or woman on with his ladle while it dripped yellow goo on the table in front of him. It had ran off the table, forming a crusty yellow puddle on the ground.

Mauve Shirt was standing at the end of the line by the entrance. When she saw them she placed both hands firmly on her hips and sent the two men a piercing glare. “Finally,” she exclaimed sarcastically. “I can eat, I’ve been waiting for you guys.”

Randman noticed that she was far paler than usual and her normally radiant facial expressions were dull.

Without another word Mauve Shirt turned and stalked towards the end of the line. Randman looked at Mangosta, who shrugged, and the two joined her.

When they had reached the line Randman put a hand on Mauve Shirt’s shoulder. “Are you alright, Vixen?” He asked.

She turned slowly and looked at Randman. “The training has been pretty hard for me, not that I can’t take it though. I don’t want you thinking I can’t handle it,” Mauve Shirt said in a cautious tone.

“I wasn’t trying to say anything like that. I just noticed that you look a little paler than usual,” Randman said.

“Yeah well, I can’t exactly make myself up all pretty for you here now can I?” Mauve Shirt suddenly snapped.

Randman was taken aback. Her sense of humor had apparently disintegrated too. “I didn’t-“

“Think? Is that what you didn’t do? Well maybe you should talk less and leave me alone. It’s bad enough I am under probation simply because I’m one of two women in an all male squad. You got me and Curlykitgirl, and that's it.” Mauve Shirt said.

“But I wasn’t-“ Randman stammered.

“It’s okay for a woman to be a pilot or a nurse, both of which often come under heavy fire I might add. But why is there so much red tape to go through before they can put on a damn MAT suit?”

“I don’t-“ Randman started again.

Mauve Shirt cut him off with a grunt and turned toward the cook, who plopped some of the “food” onto her tray. She stalked off toward an empty table. Randman watched her, completely confounded.

Shaking his head he stepped in front of the cook. Randman couldn’t help but ask, “What is this stuff anyway?”

The cook glared at him. “Filet Mignon, smartass. Now get outta here.” A large glob of the stuff was dropped on Randman’s tray with a disgusting sucking sound. The cook shoved the ladle at Randman and motioned for him to move on.

[Fredthefighter]

Woah, that was cool.

[Dirk Kris]

Presto Change-o starring Brandi (Dirk)/Reinholdt

Spoiler

Show

Brandi woke, her head pounding to the beat of some unheard techno music, apparently. She sat slowly, her head swimming. The sheets fell from her shoulders, baring her skin to the air. Goosebumps formed immediately. Yawning, stretching, she slowly got up and padded, barefoot, over to her dresser. She found an oversized t-shirt and pulled it on over her head, her hair mussed, her makeup from last night smeared. If she had long legs like a model, she might have looked downright sexy just then. But she didn't, so she just looked like a girl who'd had too much to drink and was now rolling out of bed.

Brandi glanced around the room. Near the door was her discarded party dress, one heel, then the other seeming to mark her path. Her eyes trailed to the bathroom, and she went to wash her face. Catching a whiff of something gross, she looked into the sink. Vomit, complete with chunks of pineapple, stained the interior. "Dude, gross. Glad I don't remember that." The face-washing would have to wait.

Frowning, Brandi realized something. Reinholdt hadn't been curled up with her like he normally was. He must be outside. She opened her front door and stepped out, eyes squinted nearly shut against the glaring morning light. She stepped out onto the porch, glad she her house sat in the back corner of the neighborhood. There wouldn't be any kids out playing, screaming, or much traffic going by. She could rest peacefully. She didn't remember driving home, but there her car was - in the driveway just as it should be. Still, she'd have to remember not to do that again.

"REINHOLDT! HEEEEEEEEERE KITTY KITTY!"

Brandi sighed and shaded her eyes with one hand as she waited for him to come. He would - he always did. She started singing something silly, the first thing that popped into her head. "I believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart. There's a chance we can make it now. We'll make love until the sun goes down." Planting her feet wide, she prepared herself for the long, loud falsetto part. "I believe in a thing called LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE, OOoooooooooh, get some!" Playing air guitar, she smiled, enjoying the opportunity to be foolish where no one could see.

"Meeeeee-ow. I get it. Now please, stop screaming."

The voice brought Brandi's revelry to an immediate halt. She dropped her hands and tried to pull her t-shirt down to cover herself up some more. "Who's that? Who's there?"

A young man stood up, stretching slowly. He had been resting on the bottom step. If Brandi hadn't been squinting so hard, she couldn't have missed him. "Easy, Brandi. It's me. Reinholdt." Brandi would have screamed if she could have found her voice just then. "Now, before you freak out, let me explain, please." He remained where he was, hands up, palms open towards the girl. "Some big fat guy in a red suit came in. And I was all ready to scratch him and defend our house and all that, really! But he picked me up by the scruff and held me away and told me he was here to grant your Christmas wish."

Brandi turned and ran inside, locking the door behind her. "Christmas was, like, 2 weeks ago!"

Reinholdt sighed and climbed the steps, stopping at the door, resting his forehead against the glass. "I know. He just said he was late. Anyway, he said you had wished, several times, that I was a man. Because I was snuggly and warm and I was a good listener and cute and..."

"Every single girl says that about her pets."

Reinholdt shrugged. "OK, whatever. But he said you meant it. And then he stuffed me in some big sack and I woke up...like this. So..." He tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. "Listen, will you let me in? Or do I have to balance on the windowsill and tap on the glass like I did before you put in the cat door?"

Brandi peeked out the door and took a better look at the guy. What he was telling her was real enough. So either he was a stalker or...something else. She looked, and noticed his hair was a dark, vibrant black. It was the sort of black that sometimes almost looked blue, just like her cat's fur. And his eyes were a startling, unusual yellow-green, like a cat. Not really knowing what she was doing, Brandi unlocked the door. Without another word, she went over to her couch and plopped down, stunned.

Reinholdt came in, smiling. He sat next to her, then leaned over and put his head in her lap. It was comforting, a routine they had long established when he was a cat. Absently, Brandi reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. Sighing, smiling contentedly, Reinholdt closed his eyes and groaned pleasantly. It almost sounded like a purr.

Despite herself, Brandi smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "Do I still get to call you kitty?"

EDIT: There, added a little something to clear up any confusion.

[ghost_warlock]

@2bw: Heh, Mangosta's kind of a jerk in this series, isn't he? Or, maybe it's just the suit that making him that way. Mauve doesn't seem like she's adjusting well to it, or at least she seems pretty run-down from the training and the weird scenery on that world. Sounds like a nice enough place for a short visit, but not a great place to make your home for any extended time. And the least the cooks could do would be to give them decent grub!

I anxiously await the next segment, seeing the suits in action.

[TwoBitWriter]

Presto Change-o starring Brandi (Dirk)/Reinholdt

Spoiler

Show

*snip*

that was so good! Though Reinholdt seems a bit... bold... maybe that was part of the Christmas wish too!

*shoots confetti cannon*

Yay! Dirk is back! *dances*

I will say, also, it is nice seeing you writing something so funny. It is a side of your writing talent I haven't seen too much of, not beyond Busty B's.

[Fredthefighter]

Dirk, that was cool, and it made me laugh as well, thats a plus, all in all, this counts as a Keen, Vorpal +10 Story.

[Dirk Kris]

that was so good! Though Reinholdt seems a bit... bold... maybe that was part of the Christmas wish too!

I explain that move as force of habit. Something they're both used to him doing as a cat.

[Mauve Shirt]

Geez, PMS much?

[TwoBitWriter]

Geez, PMS much?

You were complaining about being too mellow with everything. I figured months of strenuous training and being stationed on a hellhole of a planet would put you over the edge.

@Dirk: It makes sense, in that context. It wasn't intended as a criticism.

[Cristo Meyers]

Geez, PMS much?

I wasn't going to say it...

Poor Mauve, slowly being dragged down into what looks like violent, paranoid psychosis. Then Rand, stuck on some secret backwater rather than home with his kid...

...geez, TwoBit, and they said I like to torment my characters...

[mangosta71]

@2bw: Heh, Mangosta's kind of a jerk in this series, isn't he?

He promised me I would be a bit of a bastard when I got the part. Nice to finally see some of that.

Poor Mauve. She probably just needs a roll in the hay with her favorite captain.