Genaros Station
July 28, 2032
"You can't just barge in here and demand..."
"I can do anything I want, Mr. Flint. You and Mr. Kauffman have been doing things the head office would not approve of, and I'd certainly think
you'd know what would happen if they were to find out," the silver haired gentleman noted with an amused grin. "Your battlemover sale plans
alone...you should know that wasn't planned to go forward for another few months. Making money under the table without Chairman Roesencroitz'
permission. Mm-mm-mmm..."
Flint balked at the comment, before scowling. "What do you want?"
"Your....protection, of sorts. There are people looking for me. I'll stay here for the moment, till they lose my trail. Also, a position within the
GPCC."
The other man frowned, considering. Giving someone like this access to GENOM's most cutting edge production facility.... Flint briefly noted in a fit of
wry humor it couldn't be much worse than putting him in charge of it. And he didn't have much of a choice...
"Fine. Anything else you'd like to extort, Mr....?"
"This will do for now. And you may call me Largo," he smirked. "Now, I shall find myself some accomadations."
***
Sylvie looked up from where she'd been watching Anri sleep as the door opened. The footsteps weren't heavy enough to be Mr. Kaufmann, which meant
he'd probably decided to loan them out to a friend of his again. Letting her arms drift down to her sides so that the all but transparent nightie she was
wearing didn't obscure anything, she stepped out into the front area.
Obviously, this one was a new one, though in an odd turn, his eyes didn't immediately drift to her body, put on display for all to see. His eyes, in fact,
drew Sylvie's. Mismatched, one gunmetal silver and the other amber gold, Sylvie blinked to avoid getting caught up staring at them. "Welcome, sir. How
may I serve you?"
"You can call me Largo, miss, and for a start, you can go put some clothes on and get the rest of your little band. We need to have a discussion about
your collective future."
Sylvie blinked, before heading off into the bedroom to change, thinking over the man's words. As she changed, she palmed the call box. "Time to get up
girls. A friend of the boss is here and wants to talk to us."
"You mean actually...talk?"
"Are you complaining, Lou?"
"Not really, Nam, but since when does anyone want to talk to us?"
"He also asked me to get dressed, if that shows anything," Sylvie said as she pulled her coverall on.
"Maybe he's gay," Meg laughed, getting a few chuckles from some of the others.
***
"You're offering us what?" Nam asked, skeptical. The reactions among the rest of the girls were notably
mixed.
"Freedom," Largo said, crossing his legs as he sat back in the chair like he owned the room. The tone of his voice stirred something in Sylvie as he
continued. "No longer being the private toys of Kauffman and whoever he decides to hand you out to. Free to choose whatever you want to do. Where you want
to go. What you want to be."
Lou glanced at Sylvie before looking back at the man sitting across from them. "What's in it for you?"
"At the moment, nothing really. Well, beyond frustrating Mr. Kaufmann a good deal, which is almost worth it on its own. But....consider me a conscientious
objector to your status as property here."
"What about the security?" Nam said, frowning. "It's top notch; there's no way we'd ever get to the spaceport..."
"Only if they notice you leaving immediately. If you manage to get ahold of one of the security hovercars, you'll be there before they can blink,
though I'd advise not dawdling to see the sights as you do so," he smiled. "I can give you access codes to deny the internal sensors of this
suite and the surrounding area to your presence, and a key to one of the security cruisers. And a timetable for the shuttle storage, though there are a few
I've highlighted that may be less heavily guarded due to certain influential men having things aboard that they'd rather their overlords in GENOM
remain unaware of."
"What kinds of things?" Sylvie wondered, suspicious.
"Oh, drugs, illegally gained finances, unapproved toys like yourselves. All sorts of things, really. Genaros is a gray area that even GENOM officials like
to use to escape the all-encompasing eye of their employer."
"And the minute we start running, they'll be after us with blood in mind," Meg pointed out, but she was obviously wavering. The bait was set...it
just needed a little more tug....
"Huh? Guys, what's goin' on?" Anri mumbled, walking out of her bedroom and rubbing at her eyes. "Do we got someone new or
somethin'?"
Largo watched most of the women's gazes look over at the little girl that'd just wandered in, and smiled internally. That was the key, right there. As
he'd anticipated.
Sylvie lingered for a second longer before nodding. "It's nothing important, Anri. We'll tell you in the morning if it works out, okay?"
"Okay..." she yawned, before heading back into the bedroom.
Largo did his very best to appear as non-anticipating and non-threatening as possible as they looked back at him.
"...tell us what we have to do," Sylvie said, and Largo smiled.
***
"Master Largo, I have the shot," BU-55C-300-282-2038 growled over the commlink as Largo sat back, watching the chaos he'd just unleashed on
peaceful Genaros Station.
"You're certain? No margin for error.The target must survive. If they die, this was all pointless."
"Margin of error is .00000093%, Master Largo."
"Then fire," he confirmed, watching the camera feed of the fleeing 33-S buma trying desperately to get away. As a single incident, this little escape
would hardly make any waves....no, what was waiting for them at the end of the line was what would propel his plans to the next stage. And he knew where to get
more if these ones failed to do the job. It'd be less elegant, and would lack the torturous quality he'd planned to inflict on the thorns in his side,
but the plan would still work. Business before pleasure, after all.
But as the sniper's bullet shot through the young Anri's side with machine-like precision, his smile widened just a touch. Delaying the release of the
Dobermans would be simple, now that the damage was done. Perhaps....yes, Sylvie, that was her name. She was the most protective of young Anri. The rest would
serve as wonderful motivational examples....as corpses, anyway.
Sitting back, he awaited Flint's panicked call.
Everything was going according to plan...
***
"What do you mean, gone?" Largo said with a dangerously quiet tone.
"We couldn't stop them, Master Largo. They had technology we'd never seen before. They trashed the guards in an instant," the buma on the
other end of the signal said.
"What did we lose?"
"They took all four copies, sir, though not the plans or blueprints."
"Were they GENOM?"
"No, Master Largo. Visuals and audio recordings identify them as "Crey Corporation" backed by something called Paragon Protectors, some sort of
compressed combat buma by their performance."
Largo restrained a growl of irritation as he considered the adjustments to the plan this necessitated...and the investigations. "Update the construction
of the hyperbuma. It seems they'll have to pull double duty."
"And the fourth, Master Largo?"
"I'll be recruiting her shortly...." he smiled, looking over at the screen with a blinking GPS signal that only he now possessed for the sole
survivor of the Genaros escape, making its way slowly towards his lair.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
July 28, 2032
"You can't just barge in here and demand..."
"I can do anything I want, Mr. Flint. You and Mr. Kauffman have been doing things the head office would not approve of, and I'd certainly think
you'd know what would happen if they were to find out," the silver haired gentleman noted with an amused grin. "Your battlemover sale plans
alone...you should know that wasn't planned to go forward for another few months. Making money under the table without Chairman Roesencroitz'
permission. Mm-mm-mmm..."
Flint balked at the comment, before scowling. "What do you want?"
"Your....protection, of sorts. There are people looking for me. I'll stay here for the moment, till they lose my trail. Also, a position within the
GPCC."
The other man frowned, considering. Giving someone like this access to GENOM's most cutting edge production facility.... Flint briefly noted in a fit of
wry humor it couldn't be much worse than putting him in charge of it. And he didn't have much of a choice...
"Fine. Anything else you'd like to extort, Mr....?"
"This will do for now. And you may call me Largo," he smirked. "Now, I shall find myself some accomadations."
***
Sylvie looked up from where she'd been watching Anri sleep as the door opened. The footsteps weren't heavy enough to be Mr. Kaufmann, which meant
he'd probably decided to loan them out to a friend of his again. Letting her arms drift down to her sides so that the all but transparent nightie she was
wearing didn't obscure anything, she stepped out into the front area.
Obviously, this one was a new one, though in an odd turn, his eyes didn't immediately drift to her body, put on display for all to see. His eyes, in fact,
drew Sylvie's. Mismatched, one gunmetal silver and the other amber gold, Sylvie blinked to avoid getting caught up staring at them. "Welcome, sir. How
may I serve you?"
"You can call me Largo, miss, and for a start, you can go put some clothes on and get the rest of your little band. We need to have a discussion about
your collective future."
Sylvie blinked, before heading off into the bedroom to change, thinking over the man's words. As she changed, she palmed the call box. "Time to get up
girls. A friend of the boss is here and wants to talk to us."
"You mean actually...talk?"
"Are you complaining, Lou?"
"Not really, Nam, but since when does anyone want to talk to us?"
"He also asked me to get dressed, if that shows anything," Sylvie said as she pulled her coverall on.
"Maybe he's gay," Meg laughed, getting a few chuckles from some of the others.
***
"You're offering us what?" Nam asked, skeptical. The reactions among the rest of the girls were notably
mixed.
"Freedom," Largo said, crossing his legs as he sat back in the chair like he owned the room. The tone of his voice stirred something in Sylvie as he
continued. "No longer being the private toys of Kauffman and whoever he decides to hand you out to. Free to choose whatever you want to do. Where you want
to go. What you want to be."
Lou glanced at Sylvie before looking back at the man sitting across from them. "What's in it for you?"
"At the moment, nothing really. Well, beyond frustrating Mr. Kaufmann a good deal, which is almost worth it on its own. But....consider me a conscientious
objector to your status as property here."
"What about the security?" Nam said, frowning. "It's top notch; there's no way we'd ever get to the spaceport..."
"Only if they notice you leaving immediately. If you manage to get ahold of one of the security hovercars, you'll be there before they can blink,
though I'd advise not dawdling to see the sights as you do so," he smiled. "I can give you access codes to deny the internal sensors of this
suite and the surrounding area to your presence, and a key to one of the security cruisers. And a timetable for the shuttle storage, though there are a few
I've highlighted that may be less heavily guarded due to certain influential men having things aboard that they'd rather their overlords in GENOM
remain unaware of."
"What kinds of things?" Sylvie wondered, suspicious.
"Oh, drugs, illegally gained finances, unapproved toys like yourselves. All sorts of things, really. Genaros is a gray area that even GENOM officials like
to use to escape the all-encompasing eye of their employer."
"And the minute we start running, they'll be after us with blood in mind," Meg pointed out, but she was obviously wavering. The bait was set...it
just needed a little more tug....
"Huh? Guys, what's goin' on?" Anri mumbled, walking out of her bedroom and rubbing at her eyes. "Do we got someone new or
somethin'?"
Largo watched most of the women's gazes look over at the little girl that'd just wandered in, and smiled internally. That was the key, right there. As
he'd anticipated.
Sylvie lingered for a second longer before nodding. "It's nothing important, Anri. We'll tell you in the morning if it works out, okay?"
"Okay..." she yawned, before heading back into the bedroom.
Largo did his very best to appear as non-anticipating and non-threatening as possible as they looked back at him.
"...tell us what we have to do," Sylvie said, and Largo smiled.
***
"Master Largo, I have the shot," BU-55C-300-282-2038 growled over the commlink as Largo sat back, watching the chaos he'd just unleashed on
peaceful Genaros Station.
"You're certain? No margin for error.The target must survive. If they die, this was all pointless."
"Margin of error is .00000093%, Master Largo."
"Then fire," he confirmed, watching the camera feed of the fleeing 33-S buma trying desperately to get away. As a single incident, this little escape
would hardly make any waves....no, what was waiting for them at the end of the line was what would propel his plans to the next stage. And he knew where to get
more if these ones failed to do the job. It'd be less elegant, and would lack the torturous quality he'd planned to inflict on the thorns in his side,
but the plan would still work. Business before pleasure, after all.
But as the sniper's bullet shot through the young Anri's side with machine-like precision, his smile widened just a touch. Delaying the release of the
Dobermans would be simple, now that the damage was done. Perhaps....yes, Sylvie, that was her name. She was the most protective of young Anri. The rest would
serve as wonderful motivational examples....as corpses, anyway.
Sitting back, he awaited Flint's panicked call.
Everything was going according to plan...
***
"What do you mean, gone?" Largo said with a dangerously quiet tone.
"We couldn't stop them, Master Largo. They had technology we'd never seen before. They trashed the guards in an instant," the buma on the
other end of the signal said.
"What did we lose?"
"They took all four copies, sir, though not the plans or blueprints."
"Were they GENOM?"
"No, Master Largo. Visuals and audio recordings identify them as "Crey Corporation" backed by something called Paragon Protectors, some sort of
compressed combat buma by their performance."
Largo restrained a growl of irritation as he considered the adjustments to the plan this necessitated...and the investigations. "Update the construction
of the hyperbuma. It seems they'll have to pull double duty."
"And the fourth, Master Largo?"
"I'll be recruiting her shortly...." he smiled, looking over at the screen with a blinking GPS signal that only he now possessed for the sole
survivor of the Genaros escape, making its way slowly towards his lair.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."