More New chapters Posted! Manganator's Story

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More New chapters Posted! Manganator's Story

Post by Manganator » Sun Dec 30, 2007 3:28 am

OOS: Continuations will be based upon ratings and reviews. :D

“Men... I would just like to say...” Commander Manganator began, staring ahead through the semi-transparent steelglass that separated the bridge from the outside vacuum, “that I’m sorry.” Silhouetted against a red star as they zoomed by, the Commander had never looked more defeated. Before the auto-polarity set in, the sun was so bright that it seared across his vision.

He did not turn his head. His vision burned, but he did not care.

The men on the bridge, watched him anxiously. He had been their commander for so many years. He had guided them to victory on so many occasions, and maneuvered them from certain death on many others.

But the truth was, Commander Manganator was powerless. His ship’s engines, warp-drive, and even their emergency warp drive were damaged beyond repair by a surprise nuclear detonation right off of their bow. Of the three ships under his command, his capital ship was the only remaining one.

Through only the law of inertia were they still moving, the engines had no power, and it was certainly not fast enough to out-run the dozen ships on their tail.

But even so, faces, both young and inexperienced, and old veterans, looked to him with hope in their eyes, and it crushed him. I can’t... do anything. He felt it on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to scream it, but he knew that such an exclamation would do nothing to resolve the situation. Commander Manganator had no trick maneuver, no seat-of-the-pants strategy to outwit his opponents. He only had the taste of defeat in his mouth.

“Sir, report from the engine room, the chief mechanic has just passed away trying to restore power to the room.”

Slamming his fist onto the table in front of him, Manganator grabbed the stars from his chest, and threw them onto the ground in frustration. Sergeant Harrison, the chief mechanic had been their last hope at possibly repairing the warp drives. Without them, they had no chance at all.

He felt a tickling sensation in his eyes as tears began to form, but he turned away and wiped them clean. He could feel the men watching him. He needed to stay calm.

He had not cried in front of his men for the five years he had been their captain, and he didn’t feel like starting.

“Commander, the enemy ship is hailing us,” Benson, the communication’s officer, reported, still waiting eagerly for the commander to give out orders.

“Lower our shields and set the self-destruct to manual!” Manganator growled from between his hands. Eyes lowered among the crew. They knew what he intended to do, and they knew he would not be talked out of it.

“Sir, it’s possible that if we surrender now, we could be spared...” Lieutenant Nixon pointed out. Commander Manganator eyed the Lieutenant with distaste, before turning back to the viewport to see the enemy vessels closing in. No rookie will take the glory from this righteous suicide. This, son, is how warriors give their lives.

“Sir, the Lieutenant suggests...”

“Taken under consideration, Lieutenant.” Commander Manganator cut in.

The Lieutenant was a new recruit, sent up as a replacement for Manganator’s last second in command, who had been promoted to the helm of his own ship, under Manganator’s command, and now likely floated out in the vacuum among the other rubble.

Blips appeared on the screen as enemy boarding craft closed in to seize the crippled craft. It was easy prey... but prey that knew of it’s own lack of hope, and that was willing to sacrifice itself, was much more dangerous than it appeared.

Seeing that the craft were closing fast, Manganator gave a solemn nod to his grey-haired CO, Major Hammel. It would be the end of a long career for the both of them.

“Self-destruct will be ready on your mark,” Hammel reported.

Manganator heard a loud thud as the first of the boarding craft created an airtight lock with the Starcruiser, and closed his eyes. He felt the word on the tip of his tongue, knowing that with it, he would perish with so many other souls.

“Mark,” Manganator shouted, opening his eyes. He looked through the window towards the pursuing ships defiantly, hoping that it was the enemy’s best marines that would be incinerated along with him.

But nothing happened.

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Post by duece » Sun Dec 30, 2007 7:24 am

go on...

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Post by Starwynd » Sun Dec 30, 2007 11:35 am

at least you didn't include me in some homoerotic fashion with madace like last time.

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Post by MadAce » Sun Dec 30, 2007 2:10 pm

Starwynd wrote:at least you didn't include me in some homoerotic fashion with madace like last time.
I kinda found that story to be romantic. But okay, if youwant to reject me like that...
I can take it, you know...

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Post by Luumukukko » Sun Dec 30, 2007 3:43 pm

I enjoyed the last manganator story but never got to read the ending :'(
[There was madace, starwynd, mcgrod etc... Is that story even finished?]
So you surely cannot leave this unfinished.
Thanks, go on.. =)

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Post by Luna » Sun Dec 30, 2007 7:46 pm

The story has set the groundwork to move forward. Our curiosity demands that you continue so we find out what was on the enemy ship, and what decision Commander Manganator makes.

Your writing ability continues to improve with each story that you write. It would be a shame to leave it and not finish the entire storyline. This time finish the story and don't leave us hanging.

I still have the first two installments of the last video on my computer. I understand a video was difficult and more time consuming to make but this story must be completed if you start it.

Please continue your story. I'd like to read more about what happens. Good job with what you've written so far. :)

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Post by Manganator » Sun Dec 30, 2007 8:28 pm

Luna, you're a mod who's at disposal for the common good. Do you think you could dig up the last story I wrote that was the murder mystery?

Lukkie desires it. :D

Oh, sorry guys, but I don't have any time. Going out to a movie, and I have to pick up a certain someone.

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Post by Luna » Sun Dec 30, 2007 11:44 pm

viewtopic.php?t=8036&start=0


I think this is the link you're looking for. :)

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Post by McGrod » Mon Dec 31, 2007 1:35 pm

wow I've never seen that previous story before! yep you got me pretty well :D. Odd how I am forever a declining power ;) .
(retired from all stuff btw so really is a nopower now :p )

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Post by Stormy » Mon Dec 31, 2007 2:12 pm

Great Story , Keep em coming :)

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Post by Manganator » Mon Dec 31, 2007 9:54 pm

“Major Hammel!” Commander Manganator roared, knowing there had been a failure with the self-destruct. Looking from the viewport, he saw the Major furiously working his consol.

“Commander, my command’s been overwritten,” Major Hammel said quickly, his squat face narrowed on the screen with intense concentration.

Manganator immediately turning his gaze to Lieutenant Nixon. He saw that Nixon was the only other person accessing his terminal, and he was not surprised.

Manganator un-clipped his sidearm, leveled it at the Lieutenant, and without warning, fired, striking Nixon in the wrist. The bullet ricocheted and buried itself into the main display screen, causing it to flicker, and then die.

Sticky blood splattered across the deck. The marines, and other operators watched in stunned silence as Lieutenant Nixon screamed out in pain, falling from his seat. Manganator paced icily towards the Lieutenant.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Manganator said softly, gun now aimed at Nixon’s other arm.

“I won’t let you kill us all for your own pride,” he spat. No sooner did his voice quiet then he let out a forceful growl between clenched teeth as another wave of pain hit him.

“I’ve nearly got it,” Hammel urged, his fingers still thrumming away at his display screen.
“You’ve got ten seconds to unlock the system,” Manganator stated, narrowing his eyes. There was a reason he didn’t shot his dominant hand.

“Not in your life!” Nixon yelled.

“10" Manganator began the countdown with a loud authoritative voice, causing some of the nearby terminal operators to jump back.

“Sir, I’ve nearly got it!”

“9"

“8"

“7"

“Just another minute, sir!”

“6"

“We could detonate a nuke manually, sir!”

“5"

“4"

“3"

“2"

Nixon stared defiantly into Manganator’s eyes as he counted down.

“1"

Manganator waited just a moment, before speaking. “I may not be able to self-destruct the ship now, son, but that doesn’t mean I can’t kill you.”

Nixon gulped, staring down the length of the barrel now pointed at his head. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his narrow face. His sharp, weasel face was contorted in a blatant terror.

For a moment, Manganator was confused. Certainly, it was Nixon’s intention to save his own life, but now that he had a gun aimed at his blond-haired head, he was willing to die to prevent the self-destruction of the ship, which was the only reasonable action to take in such a situation...

Which must mean... yes, that Nixon was a traitor, and that their attackers wanted the ship unscathed. Unfortunately for Nixon and the attackers however, Commander Manganator wasn’t going to let that happen.

Manganator’s mouth forked up in a grin at the last second. “You’ve lost, Lieutenant.”

“SIR!” a lone voice called out over the bridge, but it was too late. Manganator wasn’t going to be wheeled in by a traitor’s logic, recognizing that Nixon probably wasn’t alone. He pulled the trigger, feeling a relief that it had been so easy.

With a loud crash, Nixon’s brains colored the opposite wall, and speckled much of the displays behind him. One of the half-dozen marines doubled over and vomited.

“Sir...” the same voice croaked out.

Manganator spun around, gun still in hand.

“What is it?” he demanded. The communication’s officer still had an earpiece in his hand.

“Marine response teams have reported that the boarding craft are empty,” he stated defensively, looking down fearfully at the gun still in Manganator’s hand.

“What?” Manganator shouted incredulously. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Marine response teams ha-“

“I heard you, God damn it!” Manganator yelled, making the man jump in his chair. The pistol suddenly felt heavy in his hand.

Before it was a simple matter of pushing a button and sacrificing lives, but things had gotten so out of hand, so fast.

Whoever he was facing in those black Starcruisers must have known that Manganator would self-destruct the ship before being captured, but if that was the case, then why send the empty boarding craft? Why not just shoot what was left of his crippled capital ship into dust?

“Sir, the heat readings on the enemy’s weapon systems are showing a prepatory to a large discharge!” one tech officer announced.

“Put up our shields and see if we could use weapons fire to alter our trajectory just enough to swing us into orbit with that sun!” Manganator shouted, not pausing to identify the sun itself, but pointing through the steelglass.

“Course change would be 12 degrees with a rapid deceleration, sir, I’m going to begin firing the forward and lateral cannons”

With heavy booms, missile’s and energy beams arced out from the ship itself, and the bow of the ship slowly began to tilt. Shaking, the many controls began to spark and dim. Groans of distressed steel and sirens of compromised sections of hull sounded like a dramatic chorus.

Some of the techies were making quick calculations, checking rechecking, and bellowing out their results to one another in lieu of an operating internal communications network. Some others, uninvolved, or powerless watched, prayed, or cradled themselves, shaking with fear.

If the boarding craft were empty... then what was Lieutenant Nixon’s motivations for taking the bullet? Manganator glanced to where the Lieutenant had fallen to see his eyes, still defiant, staring up at him.

“Sir, a report from the engine room. Sergeant Pierson did it, sir! The warp drive is operational.”

Manganator, hearing the shouts of joy around him, snapped himself from his engrossed self-reflection, and looked with confusion to the smiling coms officer.

“Sir, the warp drive!”

“Warp us then,” Manganator ordered. With a small delay, he smiled. He smiled for the men.

Their ship disappeared from space as energy weapons and missile trails soared through where the ship had just been.

As they limped into the port Alpha Tenarius, the last safe-haven before the uncharted pirate’s wing, Manganator sat to himself, silent and brooding, and quickly dismissed the men, who eagerly entered the port proper.

But Manganator stood still, eyeing Lieutenant Nixon, and the battered control room.

“Sir, you don’t need to worry, everyone’s just glad that you managed to get us back alive,” Major Hammel said with his voice haggard from years of shouting orders.

“No, Bill,” Manganator muttered. “I almost feel like I was supposed to die out there. The escape had nothing to do with me. There’s gonna be hell to pay.”

The three statements seemed, on face value, completely separate, but in Commander Manganator’s mind, they were all part of the same thought.

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Post by Talak.Winstar » Mon Dec 31, 2007 9:58 pm

Manganator wrote:“Major Hammel!” Commander Manganator roared, knowing there had been a failure with the self-destruct. Looking from the viewport, he saw the Major furiously working his consol.

“Commander, my command’s been overwritten,” Major Hammel said quickly, his squat face narrowed on the screen with intense concentration.

Manganator immediately turning his gaze to Lieutenant Nixon. He saw that Nixon was the only other person accessing his terminal, and he was not surprised.

Manganator un-clipped his sidearm, leveled it at the Lieutenant, and without warning, fired, striking Nixon in the wrist. The bullet ricocheted and buried itself into the main display screen, causing it to flicker, and then die.

Sticky blood splattered across the deck. The marines, and other operators watched in stunned silence as Lieutenant Nixon screamed out in pain, falling from his seat. Manganator paced icily towards the Lieutenant.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Manganator said softly, gun now aimed at Nixon’s other arm.

“I won’t let you kill us all for your own pride,” he spat. No sooner did his voice quiet then he let out a forceful growl between clenched teeth as another wave of pain hit him.

“I’ve nearly got it,” Hammel urged, his fingers still thrumming away at his display screen.
“You’ve got ten seconds to unlock the system,” Manganator stated, narrowing his eyes. There was a reason he didn’t shot his dominant hand.

“Not in your life!” Nixon yelled.

“10" Manganator began the countdown with a loud authoritative voice, causing some of the nearby terminal operators to jump back.

“Sir, I’ve nearly got it!”

“9"

“8"

“7"

“Just another minute, sir!”

“6"

“We could detonate a nuke manually, sir!”

“5"

“4"

“3"

“2"

Nixon stared defiantly into Manganator’s eyes as he counted down.

“1"

Manganator waited just a moment, before speaking. “I may not be able to self-destruct the ship now, son, but that doesn’t mean I can’t kill you.”

Nixon gulped, staring down the length of the barrel now pointed at his head. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his narrow face. His sharp, weasel face was contorted in a blatant terror.

For a moment, Manganator was confused. Certainly, it was Nixon’s intention to save his own life, but now that he had a gun aimed at his blond-haired head, he was willing to die to prevent the self-destruction of the ship, which was the only reasonable action to take in such a situation...

Which must mean... yes, that Nixon was a traitor, and that their attackers wanted the ship unscathed. Unfortunately for Nixon and the attackers however, Commander Manganator wasn’t going to let that happen.

Manganator’s mouth forked up in a grin at the last second. “You’ve lost, Lieutenant.”

“SIR!” a lone voice called out over the bridge, but it was too late. Manganator wasn’t going to be wheeled in by a traitor’s logic, recognizing that Nixon probably wasn’t alone. He pulled the trigger, feeling a relief that it had been so easy.

With a loud crash, Nixon’s brains colored the opposite wall, and speckled much of the displays behind him. One of the half-dozen marines doubled over and vomited.

“Sir...” the same voice croaked out.

Manganator spun around, gun still in hand.

“What is it?” he demanded. The communication’s officer still had an earpiece in his hand.

“Marine response teams have reported that the boarding craft are empty,” he stated defensively, looking down fearfully at the gun still in Manganator’s hand.

“What?” Manganator shouted incredulously. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Marine response teams ha-“

“I heard you, God damn it!” Manganator yelled, making the man jump in his chair. The pistol suddenly felt heavy in his hand.

Before it was a simple matter of pushing a button and sacrificing lives, but things had gotten so out of hand, so fast.

Whoever he was facing in those black Starcruisers must have known that Manganator would self-destruct the ship before being captured, but if that was the case, then why send the empty boarding craft? Why not just shoot what was left of his crippled capital ship into dust?

“Sir, the heat readings on the enemy’s weapon systems are showing a prepatory to a large discharge!” one tech officer announced.

“Put up our shields and see if we could use weapons fire to alter our trajectory just enough to swing us into orbit with that sun!” Manganator shouted, not pausing to identify the sun itself, but pointing through the steelglass.

“Course change would be 12 degrees with a rapid deceleration, sir, I’m going to begin firing the forward and lateral cannons”

With heavy booms, missile’s and energy beams arced out from the ship itself, and the bow of the ship slowly began to tilt. Shaking, the many controls began to spark and dim. Groans of distressed steel and sirens of compromised sections of hull sounded like a dramatic chorus.

Some of the techies were making quick calculations, checking rechecking, and bellowing out their results to one another in lieu of an operating internal communications network. Some others, uninvolved, or powerless watched, prayed, or cradled themselves, shaking with fear.

If the boarding craft were empty... then what was Lieutenant Nixon’s motivations for taking the bullet? Manganator glanced to where the Lieutenant had fallen to see his eyes, still defiant, staring up at him.

“Sir, a report from the engine room. Sergeant Pierson did it, sir! The warp drive is operational.”

Manganator, hearing the shouts of joy around him, snapped himself from his engrossed self-reflection, and looked with confusion to the smiling coms officer.

“Sir, the warp drive!”

“Warp us then,” Manganator ordered. With a small delay, he smiled. He smiled for the men.

Their ship disappeared from space as energy weapons and missile trails soared through where the ship had just been.

As they limped into the port Alpha Tenarius, the last safe-haven before the uncharted pirate’s wing, Manganator sat to himself, silent and brooding, and quickly dismissed the men, who eagerly entered the port proper.

But Manganator stood still, eyeing Lieutenant Nixon, and the battered control room.

“Sir, you don’t need to worry, everyone’s just glad that you managed to get us back alive,” Major Hammel said with his voice haggard from years of shouting orders.

“No, Bill,” Manganator muttered. “I almost feel like I was supposed to die out there. The escape had nothing to do with me. There’s gonna be hell to pay.”

The three statements seemed, on face value, completely separate, but in Commander Manganator’s mind, they were all part of the same thought.
You should write a science fiction novel. >.>

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Post by Manganator » Mon Dec 31, 2007 10:16 pm

You should write a science fiction novel. >.>
Madace... would you care to explain to Talak some of the many obstacles to such a dream? :D
Starwynd wrote:at least you didn't include me in some homoerotic fashion with madace like last time.
Having skewered Ace with his bloody pipe, Madace's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and...

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Post by Talak.Winstar » Mon Dec 31, 2007 10:19 pm

Manganator wrote:
You should write a science fiction novel. >.>
Madace... would you care to explain to Talak some of the many obstacles to such a dream? :D
Starwynd wrote:at least you didn't include me in some homoerotic fashion with madace like last time.
Having skewered Ace with his bloody pipe, Madace's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and...
What problems are there with writing a Sci-Fi novel?

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Post by MadAce » Mon Dec 31, 2007 10:47 pm

oh come on its old years eve (online lol

anyways

brian is a lazy fukc with a poison brain

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Post by Luna » Mon Dec 31, 2007 11:58 pm

Talak let me attempt to clarify what I think Manganator is saying. Writing a short 10-25 paqe short story isn't so hard. However making a full novel requires roughly 175-400 pages of well thought out dialog. This isn't as easy as it seems. If you manage to finish a novel of that magnitude you still need to have it edited and then find someone to publish it.

Manganator does have the talent to make a novel, but writing is time consuming. In time I fully expect him to be successful as a novelist if he puts his mind to it in the future. :)

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Post by MadAce » Tue Jan 01, 2008 12:03 am

mannys a butterfly :ol:

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Post by Luumukukko » Thu Jan 03, 2008 1:40 am

Grats manganator, Once again I enjoyed of your writing.

You should seriously consider writing something longer, cause' you clearly got potential (imo).

:!:

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Post by Manganator » Thu Jan 03, 2008 2:13 am

OOS: I cannot write without motivation. One great motivation is ego-boosting, which is why I will require comments from 4 different people before submitting the section after this one ;) Enjoy!

Once they had docked, the men under Manganator’s command dispersed quickly from the ship and into the bustling port. Commander Manganator stayed on the bridge to brood over what had happened, and watch the liquid matter from Nixon’s brain ooze around the deck.

Of course, he could understand, after surviving a battle which seemed to mean certain death, it was his first impulse to exit this flying coffin.

”Bill…” Manganator said to his CO, “let’s get something to hugging drink.”

“I have some spice wine locked away in my room,” Bill offered, wrinkles stretched out in a smile, happy to see Manganator leave his gloomy state.

“No, nothing expensive Bill. I just want to… drink.”

Major Hammel’s concern returned to his plump face, making Commander Manganator look away in shame. “let’s go.”

As they left, Manganator inhaled, and took a mental note to set the cleanup of Nixon’s dead body from the bridge, as a top priority maintenance duty. The funeral would be a long one, filled with so many people that had been friends and comrades.

Manganator stopped, feeling a twinge of pain deep in his gut, but mustering the willpower, he stepped down the ramp into the access lock, moving towards the bustling market-scene in the port.

He could see many of his men already, crowding around civilization’s oldest professionals, sticking to the groups of friend’s that they knew best. Some of them gave salutes as him and Major Hammel passed. The men need this break… they nearly lost their lives, it’s time for them to enjoy and appreciate what they still have.

“Sir, don’t you think this might be dangerous?” Hammel said as they walked.

“How so?” Manganator asked off handedly.

“To go to such a predictable resting place and pause right after an attack. Our enemies could track us here.” Hammel elaborated.

“Our warp drives are damaged, I won’t risk a longer journey to Crostan in our condition,” he explained as he entered the door to one of the less-crowded bars. “Besides, those black ISC’s, no matter who they’re working for, they wouldn’t be able to dock here, or break the port’s shield before a fleet arrived from one of the many outposts a few hops in either direction.”

“That’s not what I mean sir!” Hammel exclaimed as they found their way to seats on the relatively-deserted bar. It was very dark, and the little light there was had a reddish tone.

“Two captain’s stashes please,” Manganator said to the bartender, an unshaven, brawny man. Grumbling, he got up from his chair shakily, and groped underneath the bar for a drink.

“What do you mean then, Bill?” Manganator asked. The barkeeper lazily placed a bottle of captain’s stash and two used cups in front of them. Now Manganator knew why this was the less-occupied bar.

“I mean assassins, spies, someone looking to catch a loose-lipped ship hand saying something that shouldn’t be said about our ship. And look at you… in a place like this without even your side-arm!” Hammel said, pointing to the empty holster at his side.

“That’s the idea,” Manganator said, pouring himself a glass. “Want some?”

“I guess it’s something I’m not supposed to understand,” Hammel said with a defeated tone, draining his own glass. His expression quickly turned sour as he swallowed.

“This is…” he began with a disgusted expression.

“Pure motor oil,” Manganator finished, pouring Hammel another glass. “Cheers!”

A few drinks later, Manganator and Hammel were starting to feel the affects. Where it lacked in taste, it made up in punch. Manganator began to drink straight from the bottle, and soon he and Hammel were laughing loudly, reminiscing about past adventures.

As he listened to Hammel begin to tell another story, Manganator’s vision wandered around the bar, and found himself looking at an very-beautiful woman. She was wearing a comfortable black coat, that still managed to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her well-toned stomach, and a small black cap which allowed only bits of her flame-red hair to show. Her face was defined by two piercing, yet mysterious brown eyes. And those eyes were trained on him.

“Excuse me, Bill, I’ve found what I’m looking for,” Commander Manganator said, his speech somewhat slurred. He got up from the bar and stumbled over to the woman’s table.

“You look a little lonely, missy,” Manganator said, dropping himself into the seat opposite from her. He rested his hand on his empty holster.

Looking over him slowly, she gave him a curt smile. She appeared to be sober, Manganator observed. “You’re cute for someone of your rank,” she remarked.

”Want to go to your place?” Manganator asked, preferring to be direct.

“Oh… why not?” she said, giggling.

“See ya tomorrow, Bill!” Manganator shouted to his friend as he got up.

The confident, red-haired woman got up, and smiling to him as if he and she shared a secret. She led the way, looking back time to time. They negotiated their way through the crowds, and soon found their way to a more deserted section, with cheap lodgings.

“This one’s mine,” she said, pausing to smile just a moment before reaching into her coat for a key.

“That’s far enough,” Manganator said, pulling his side-arm from his pocket.

Chuckling, he cocked the pistol. “You must have overestimated your seductive abilities, to have not noticed there was a pistol in my pocket.”

“What the hug is this?” she asked incredulously.

“Hands out of your pockets now!” Manganator commanded authoritatively.

Giving him a nasty look, she slowly withdrew her hands. “Now! The gun in the left pocket of your jacket. Take it out slowly, and place it on the ground,” he ordered quickly.

With her eyes on his the entire time, she reached into her jacket, grasped the pistol by the handle, and slowly bent down to place it on the ground.

Just before she was going to drop it, she quickly jumped to the side and raised her pistol at his chest, planning to shoot him in mid-air.

Completely sober, he tracked her falling body and fired.

Struck in the right shoulder, her shot went wide, and she soon became more concerned with her spouting wound than of her pistol.

“Now if we don’t get that bandaged the-“ Manganator began icily.

“HELP!” she screamed, completely drowning him out. “HELP ME! SOMEONE HE-“ She stopped screaming as he pistol whipped her across the side of the head.

Grimacing, he reached into her coat, found her key, and opened the door, dragging her inside. The apartment was hardly furnished, the only personal effects in the spartan chambers was a Captains Stash, which Manganator picked up and began to drink slowly. As he drank, he observed the red-haired assassin on the floor in front of him.

“Who do you work for?” he wondered aloud.

Whatever organization he faced, it was much deeper and more far-reaching than any of the known pirate cartels. He planned to figure it out before reporting back to his superiors in Crostan.

I should just count my blessings that I was being tracked by a rather dumb assassin.

duece
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Post by duece » Thu Jan 03, 2008 2:32 am

That was really good.

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Post by Luna » Thu Jan 03, 2008 3:07 am

She's bleeding to death and we have no clue who she is or whom she works for. Get her a band-aid. He appeared to know her intentions, so I'm guessing she has some sort of intel he needs, or he knows her from someplace else.

Only time will tell. I would like to know where this story leads. You're off to a good plot, all you need to do is keep the suspense, and action moving and everyone will be hooked.

Great job Manganator!

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Turkey
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Post by Turkey » Thu Jan 03, 2008 5:09 am

Don't let her die like Nixon! He was your best lead!

I wonder what Commander Manganator did with the booze at the bar...

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Zavrith
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Post by Zavrith » Thu Jan 03, 2008 5:38 am

Man, saw that coming a million miles off. Yet wasn't any less enjoyable for it.


THERE YOU GO AT LEAST FOUR COMPLIMENTS KEEP GOING NOOB :x

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Luumukukko
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Post by Luumukukko » Thu Jan 03, 2008 2:22 pm

Nnnnnniiiiiiiice manga =)
Zavrith wrote:THERE YOU GO AT LEAST FOUR COMPLIMENTS KEEP GOING NOOB :x
heh, please do so.

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Talak.Winstar
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Post by Talak.Winstar » Thu Jan 03, 2008 4:07 pm

Keep em commin manga. :)

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Manganator
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Post by Manganator » Thu Jan 03, 2008 9:59 pm

When the female assassin woke, she was bound tightly. She struggled to see if there was any slack, but there was not.

Next concern was her bullet wound. She looked over to check it, and found that it had been cleaned, sanitized, and bandaged. It did not look like it would be infected.

Her mouth was taped shut, preventing her from screaming again, and this would be a little easier to break, but to what end? Her captor was watching over her with a bemused grin.

Commander Manganator had draped his uniform over the chair in which he sat, and was holding the pistol steadily at her. Apparently, he had been waiting for her to wake up. “Rise and shine, honey bunches,” he said enthusiastically, scooting his chair towards her.

Unable to respond, she gave him a hateful glare.

Manganator’s face took a condescending look, like a teacher scolding a young child. “Now I’m going to take your gag off, and if you start screaming, I’ll just knock you out again,” he said, hefting his pistol by the barrel, “and if that happens I’ll drag you to my ship and we’ll fly back to Crostan where you can get asked questions by the professionals.”

By professionals, she knew what he meant. U.N. agencies were known for using the harshest interrogation techniques that a cruel imagination could invent. And if she wouldn’t talk, they had no problems with killing her.

Manganator watched her curiously. When he threatened her with handing her over to the authorities, she didn’t seem scared, like any common assassin, but instead, she seemed relieved. This troubled him.

He decided to test his theory, and quickly tore the tape from her mouth.

“Help SOMEBODY-“ As expected, it took just a moment for her voice to rise to its highest pitch. Expecting it, he held her mouth shut, and taped back over it, ending her yell as quickly as it began.

You just told me who hired you without saying a word, stupid assassin.

And it was the worst possible scenario. Black-painted commissioned ISCs, a mutinous Lt straight from the academy, and now an assassin that couldn’t wait to get to the heart of U.N. space, all pointed to one thing.

His enemy came not from the outer pirate rings, or small-time cartels, but from the U.N. itself. Someone wanted him dead. The realization came as a shock to him. Against a pirate cartel, he had a chance, but against the U.N... he shook his head.

No, not the U.N., but someone very powerful within the U.N. itself.
It could be anyone of power. Perhaps a governor, a senator to the terrestrial assembly, or even one of the generals in his fleet.

As he thought, he noticed that the assassin had begun to squirm her way towards the door, and had made a small amount of progress, so he put a foot on her back and thought some more.
The U.N. port no longer seemed anywhere near as safe. He regretted being so slow to organize his men, not keeping a heavy guard on the ship, and lazily making himself an omelette. He should have just dragged her into the brig, and set off.

And then he remembered something he had once heard from an officer he knew in intelligence. He pulled out his radio, and switched to the private channel.

“Major Hammel, this is command one, come in,” he said urgently into the receiver. He got no response, so, figuring that Hammel was still asleep, he sounded the buzzer on his CO’s radio, which was the equivalent to a station-alarm, and served as a very good wake-up call.

Hammel still didn’t answer his radio, but it didn’t matter anymore.

Commander Manganator could hear the siren just a few apartments next to him, and just a few seconds after it began to ring, the radio was shut off. He immediately figured the worst, that this red-haired assassin was not the only one. “I’ll be right back,” he growled, lifting his foot from the girl beneath him.

Knowing the siren would alarm the assassin, he wasted no time, and ran through the dirty metal hallway to the next room. Pausing for just a moment at the metal door, he raised his pistol, charged it, and shot a concentrated energy shot through the lock.

He then kicked it open, slamming it against the wall, and then rushed in. He was immediately confronted by another girl, scantily clad in boots and white undergarments, with blond hair and another toned frame.

She was holding something in her hands, and it was pointed towards him. Without thinking, he fired off a shot, hitting her square in the chest.

She fell to the ground, and a metal plate of waffles clattered to the deck. Sputtering, blood leaked from her wound and from her mouth. She had been hit in the lung, a fatal shot. The red blood mixed with the thick waffle syrup on the ground.

“Who sent you!” Manganator shouted, grabbing her shoulder. He hoped that in her dying moments, she would tell him. Just one thing...

But she died without saying a word, her eyes lost their glimmer and her body relaxed completely.

“What the hug, Brian!” Bill shouted.

Manganator looked up, and saw his CO, that he thought was dead, walking half-naked with a blanket wrapped around him. The man’s folds of fat, released from his normally tight uniform (the largest size) jiggled as he walked.

“She was an assassin, Bill, sent from the U.N...” Manganator explained, pausing to breath. His heart was still racing.

“Jesus hugging Christ, George, she was giving me breakfast in bed!” Hammel shouted angrily.

Manganator paused for a moment. Had he mistakenly kidnaped one girl, and killed another?

duece
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Post by duece » Thu Jan 03, 2008 10:06 pm

Haha, I love it.

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Luna
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Post by Luna » Fri Jan 04, 2008 1:26 am

I can't get used to the "substitute" words, although I'm now reading them as though they aren't even there. I'm intrigued where this is headed. Please continue so we can enjoy trying to figure out what's next.

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Manganator
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Post by Manganator » Fri Jan 04, 2008 8:51 pm

comon, I'm sure more people have read it than this.

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Zavrith
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Post by Zavrith » Fri Jan 04, 2008 8:53 pm

Teehee....waffles.

Keep going buddy!

Love the paranoia :twisted:

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