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Omegas 40: Bowling


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#1 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 22 September 2005 - 04:46 AM

Notemeal and Pecan Crunch:

1. No, I haven't forced my way past the block yet. (Sigh) Instead, I've just been wasting time and energy expanding the sequences leading up to the area that I'm blocked at. Stalling for time, as it were. Blecch. Well, here's some of what those labors have wrought. :)

2. Normally, most of the banter in these things is of the Raven/Harlequin variety. Ever wonder what Raven/Vixen banter would look like? Well, now you know... and knowing's half the battle! :roll:

3. Watch out for the "bombshell" at the end of the first section. :?

4. Falynn has a bit of a... "blonde moment." (And no, it's not at all related to the "bombshell" crack I made in Note #3.)

5. Just for the record, I -did- catch the Mythbusters' "Elevator of Death" episode... the bit at the end is somewhat inspired by that... even if it's flat-out wrong from a technical standpoint. :)

But hey, UU helped with the idea, so you can blame him, too. :lol:

-----

“Behind you!”

Promptly responding to the shouted warning, Jaheira threw herself forward and out of the way of the man-hack making for the back of her neck. The whirling blades hummed with lethal intent as they nearly took a chunk out of her combat helmet. The desperate movement, however, gave Falynn the clean shot she needed. A single, crimson-tinted laser bolt lashed out from the M-16 assault rifle, vaporizing a good-sized lump of the metal and ceramic that comprised the small attack drone. It crashed to the ground with the tortured whine of broken gears.

Vixen prodded the pile of debris with her toe. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, then turned towards Falynn. “Thank you.”

Omega One shrugged, taking the genuine expression of gratitude, flipping it on its head, and transmogrifying it into something sardonic – an action perfectly in line with her rather mocking worldview. “Eh, don’t thank me. Just looking out for my own best interests. You know how many reports I’d have to file if you got yourself killed?”

Jaheira scowled briefly at Falynn’s customary attempts to deflect any and all serious conversation with badly misplaced humor. “Your concern for my welfare is touching,” she replied, trying to keep up her side of their usual banter. On the surface, this one conversation was similar to multitudes of others they’d had before: Jaheira would say something serious and, as a pro forma gesture, Falynn would have to take a satirical axe to it, reducing the entire discussion to an article of gross untidiness – one possessing an intellectual value akin to toenail clippings. It was as much SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) as swapping out an empty ammunition magazine for a new one… and it was a cornerstone of their oddly warped friendship. Both had become accustomed to it… at least, Jaheira thought she’d become accustomed to it – she was starting to feel as if she should reconsider that putative notion.

She and Falynn had known each other for years, and yet their relationship had always been somewhat… distant… sometimes even standoffish. Both women had simply chalked it up to a mild clash of personalities and had left it at that. After all, one of them was a strict disciplinarian, serious, stern and largely unforgiving, and the other was… well… clearly mentally unbalanced.

Jaheira had to stop and laugh at that one (In her head, not out loud). There were times when even her own mind wouldn’t allow her to give Falynn a fair shake. The truth, however, was that, even in the beginning, when there seemed to be nothing between them but arguments waiting to happen, there had still always been a sense of mutual (if grudging) respect there. That, along with their friendship in general, had only grown stronger over the years, even if neither seemed willing to admit it out loud… though that didn’t necessarily mean that the frequency of their butting heads, in any way decreased.

Given the almost antithetical nature of their individualities, a few incidences of flared tempers were to be expected. Still, after all they’d been through together, what were a few harsh words and glib comments every now and again?

Right?

She wasn’t convinced. Things were different this time… something was… wrong… and the way in which Falynn had seemingly begun to push everyone away was just one indication of that. Even Imoen was being held mostly at arm’s length, it seemed, and the very idea of that was frightening, as the two sisters had been quite inseparable their entire lives. Jaheira stood in silence for a few moments, watching as Falynn ran her fingertips across the edges of the security door they’d just sealed shut behind them. “Falynn?”

The other woman turned and looked up. “Hmmm?”

The half-elven squad medic looked her younger counterpart squarely in the eyes. “If something serious were truly amiss… you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” She’d wanted that to come out sounding more like a statement than the actual question it was, but she wasn’t so confident, anymore, that she’d get the answer she wanted.

The abrupt inquiry brought a look of slight confusion to the human woman’s features. “We’re not starting this again, are we? I thought I told you I wasn’t really ready to talk about that whole problem with -”

Jaheira cut her off as gently as she could. The Tethyrian had never considered herself the diplomatic sort, but even she knew that she couldn’t press too hard here… not if she genuinely wanted an answer to her question. “I suppose I was willing to accept that, earlier,” she shrugged, growing weary of it all. It was difficult for her to talk to Falynn (and vice versa, she was sure). Neither of them had apparently bothered to learn how to communicate with the other (Besides the basics: “Help, I think I’m bleeding…”), and this was almost completely new territory for both of them. “But I’m not, anymore.”

The meaning of that last statement wasn’t lost on Falynn. Realizing how grave the conversation had turned, she was trying hard to steer it away from where she saw it going. “Why not?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain casual. She attempted to busy herself with equipment checks, fumbling with the ammunition magazines and other supplies stashed in pouches on her belt.

“You said you wanted some time to think,” the half-elf replied, obstinately refusing to let the matter drop without obtaining the response she’d come for. “Well, I had some time to think myself, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve come to.”

“Fair enough, but I’d argue that this is hardly the time or place to be having this manner of discussion… and I would figure that you, of all people, would know that.”

Jaheira realized that for what it was: a stall/diversion tactic. Had circumstances been different, she would almost have smiled at Falynn’s temerity when it came to avoiding significant, meaningful discussion. “You’re correct. Normally, I would agree with what you’ve just said… but given our current situation, I’m not entirely certain we’ll even have another opportunity… besides, it’s a simple question.”

And that was it. No way out or around. Falynn exhaled, her breath escaping her in a long, drawn-out sigh. “It’s not a simple question, Jaheira. It’s just laden with innuendo…” she said, laughing humorlessly. She waved her hands in protest, as if the gesturing would help make her point without the inconvenience of words. “I… you… you can’t ask that kind of question out of the blue, like that, you know? I mean, it’d be like me just point-blank asking you what the square root of sixty four is… for no apparent reason…”

Jaheira couldn’t help herself, though, to her credit, she didn’t laugh… or even smile. “Eight…” she replied.

Falynn groaned and thumped the side of her fist against her forehead a few times. “Damn it, Lynn… if you’re gonna do that, use a prime number next time!” She grumbled, “Idiot,” then paused for a moment to collect herself. “Okay… bad example, but you know where I’m going with this. Look… I’m fine, all right?” She made a small moue. “Mostly… just chill-ax, okay?”

“I would like nothing better than to ‘chill-ax,’ Falynn, but…”

“Jaheira, what you’re asking, that’s like me stopping to reflect on my life and all the various decisions I’ve made therein, while on my way to use the head… in other words, I don’t really do it.”

“Humor me.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now!” She felt like a terrier that had latched on to someone’s arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how much they squirmed, or how hard they fought back.

There were a few seconds of silence before Falynn finally quit struggling. She buried her face in her hand. “All right…” she said, her voice coming out muffled by the skin of her palm, “you wanna know? You wanna know what I’ve been thinking? Fine. Here it is: maybe you and Imoen were right.”

“About what?”

The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”

“I never said that… I never even thought-“

Falynn cut off her protests with an upraised hand. “Yes, you have… and it’s ok. I know I’ve been overprotective, and I know I’ve let my personal relationships with all of you cloud my judgment. I know that. I can’t deny it… and after… you know, that thing that happened back on Brynnlaw… I shouldn’t even try to deny it.”

“What happened there was understandable. I-“

“Yeah… you saved my career back then… but don’t you see? I can’t keep asking you to do that. I can’t keep having you or anyone else taking those kinds of risks for me. We both know what would have happened to you if the real story behind that Brynnlaw incident ever got out. You took a hell of a chance there… for my sake… and while I appreciate it, we both know it wasn’t fair to you. I won’t ask you to make that kind of a sacrifice ever again.”

“Falynn, you never had to ask-“

“No. I never did… and that’s what makes it worse. All the more reason why I refuse to let things get that far out of hand again.”

“I’m not sure what-“

“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”

“You’re what?!”

-----

“Sentry guns are bad.”

Valygar affirmed Nalia’s comment. “Sentry guns are very bad.”

“They’re not very effective,” Imoen commented. She took a quick peek out from behind cover. There were at least a half-dozen automated laser emplacements, mounted on swivel turrets that allowed them to cover most of the corridor with overlapping fields of fire. Someone had apparently fiddled with the weapons’ IFF systems, and now the guns were completely unable to identify friend from foe. The fact that Nalia had nearly had her foot sliced off by a laser blast the moment she’d stepped around the corner was a testament to that.

“I don’t know, Lieutenant,” she said, still shivering from the near miss. “We’re kinda stuck here. Seems pretty effective to me.”

“I’d beg to differ, Nalia. One shot on target is worth a lot more than five that miss.”

Cipher shook her head in mild disbelief. “You know, you sound just like my combat instructors at the Academy.”

The comment drew a smile from the younger (and generally less serious) of the two Llyr sisters. “What can I say? Sometimes, I actually did pay attention in class.” Her smile faded quickly, however, as she mulled their situation over. Getting past the automated defenses guarding the corridor in front of them wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only route remotely available to them that would allow them to link back up with Falynn and Jaheira. Hence the necessity of finding a course around (or even through) the six laser turrets and their well laid-out, overlapping zones of instant death.

“I’m open to suggestions, gang.” Imoen turned and found mostly blank expressions on the faces of the people behind her. She made a mildly-disgusted-sounding noise. “Thanks, guys. Big help.” She flicked her gaze over to Valygar. “Sarge, you know more about these things than I do. How do they track their targets? Thermal sensors, right?”

Spectre nodded. “That’s usually their primary method, yes… but you do run into some problems with that.”

“Namely how do you differentiate one big ol’ blob of heat from any other?”

“Correct.”

“Transponder tags, then?” she hazarded a guess.

“That would be the most straightforward method.”

Nalia interjected. “But the IFF systems are clearly off-line. I’ve been broadcasting our Confed ID signatures and those things still shot at us.”

“This is true,” Valygar said with a nod, “but most automated emplacements have on-site backup systems just in case the primary recognition systems are damaged or otherwise incapacitated. If it’s believed that the primary IFF system is compromised, the security turrets can be set to fire only on moving forms not bearing a transponder tag keyed to a specific frequency. Tags would be issued to base personnel – especially security personnel and high-ranking officers.”

Imoen frowned. “I’m not sure I’m following you, Val. How does that help us?”

“These tags aren’t just something you keep in your pocket, Lieutenant. They’d be well-hidden… maybe sewn somewhere into a uniform, or even…”

Imoen snapped her fingers, suddenly catching on to Valygar’s train of thought. “Or even in a subdermal implant?”

“Exactly.”

She sighed, her excitement at finding “the answer” suddenly evaporating as she considered the implications of her realization. “Wait a second… let me guess, we’re talking really limited range on those transmitters, meaning we’d almost have to be right on top of those turrets to activate the failsafes.”

“Unfortunately, that would likely be the case.”

She couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of mildly-perturbed eye rolling. “Beauty. So… let me get this straight… we’re going to need to find a dead ConSec officer, and haul the poor bastard’s corpse with us to within like five feet of a bunch of high-powered turrets – high-powered enough to reduce us all to our component atoms, in case you were wondering – hoping it’ll be enough to prevent those guns from going all sickhouse on our asses…” She groaned, already starting to wonder just how they could possibly accomplish such a feat… and, more pointedly, what would happen to them if they failed. “As Lynn would say, ‘I like my ass, people!’”

There was a slightly amused smirk from Valygar. “You did say you were open to suggestions,” he said, smoothly managing to put the onus back on her.

It was a small, but clever bit of conversational trickery that Imoen simply hadn’t expected from the normally dour Army Ranger. She managed to keep from smiling, even if she did find the situation somewhat humorous. “I did, but I can’t say I was expecting someone to come up with a plan of action that involved us carting corpses around on our backs.”

“It’s a little morbid, I know.” All told, it was a pretty shallow defense of the idea.

She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.

“It’s either that or we’ll all need to learn how to run faster than a laser blast.”

The left corner of her mouth quirked itself into a little grimace. “I think I’ll pass. Pulled a hamstring last time I tried my ‘universe’s fastest woman’ impression.”

-----

Valygar Corthala folded down the collapsible bipod that was attached to the bottom of his rifle muzzle. The two metal legs looked flimsy, but were well capable of supporting the weight of the heavy Gauss weapon, and the immense recoil it generated whenever it fired. He made a few adjustments to the rifle’s sighting mechanisms, then pulled his eye away from the scope and looked up. “I’d like to go on the record as saying this is, by far, the single most idiotic idea I have ever heard.”

Imoen Llyr finished tying a handful of knots into the length of cable she held in her hands. She tugged on them to test their strength. “Right. Someone put that down in the minutes, please.”

At the other end of the cable, Nalia de’Arnisse was busy attaching the high-tensile strength line to a magnetic grapple. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Well, seeing as how Falynn isn’t here at the moment, Jan and I are the closest things to physicists we’ve got… and this is what we came up with. You don’t like it, you’re perfectly free to try building your own low-budget, oversized, overpowered and unnecessarily complicated rig. But this one’s ours. So there.” Saliva flew from her mouth as she let loose with an extra-long raspberry.

Valygar rolled his eyes and sighed. “I believe the overall maturity level in this room just sank to a negative value.”

“Yeah, well, nanny-nanny-boo-boo, stick your head in doo-doo.”

“Thank you for making my point so eloquently, Lieutenant.”

“Um… are we sure this is going to work?”

Imoen shook her head. “No, Nalia, we’re not sure. You can’t be sure of much in our line of work. But, I’ve done the calculations-“

There was the sound of someone abruptly clearing their throat. It came from the general vicinity of Minsc’s shoulder.

Imoen smiled sheepishly and corrected herself. “Excuse me. I had Boo do the calculations, and as best as we can tell, this -should- work… er…” she winced. “… in theory.”

Nalia pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Oh, my dear Deneir… we’re going to die, aren’t we?”

“Of course we’re not going to die.” Harlequin grinned. “Crippling and/or disfiguring injury, however, is a distinct possibility.” She shrugged, nonchalantly. “Though I doubt it’ll come to that. Trust me!”

“No offense intended, but why does anyone -ever- trust you, Lieutenant?”

She winked and snickered. “Because there’s no one else -to- trust. I have a monopoly on a certain commodity – namely, people available to be trusted, whether deserving or not – and boy howdy, you’d better believe I’m going to exploit it. Ain’t capitalism grand?”

“And people at the university I attended told me I was crazy for talking like a socialist.”

“Relax, will ya? Hundred credits says we don’t die.”

“I’m not betting. It’s like Lieutenant Marael said. If you were wrong, how would I collect?”

“Why does everyone keep acting as if that’s -my- problem?” She sighed and put on her best ‘You wound me!’ look. “Minsc, you ready over there?”

The bald-headed heavy weapons specialist looked a trifle bemused at the proceedings. He shrugged, even as a mild frown crossed his features. “Yes, but Minsc is not entirely sure how a giant magnet will help us smite evil. Magnets aren’t sharp like swords… or shiny… and they most certainly do not turn evil foes into exploded squishies.”

“Just leave that to me, big guy. The grapple all set?”

Minsc’s hamster companion flashed a thumbs-up. “We’re locked and loaded, Lieutenant. Just give the word.”

Imoen knelt down beside the dead Confed soldier and whispered a few words that the rest of the team couldn’t hear. Nalia was no lip-reader, but she was fairly certain the Lieutenant was mouthing some kind of prayer. Harlequin looked up and gave one terse nod of her head. “Ok. Do it.”

The magna-caster that Minsc held in his hands looked deceptively fragile, and as such, nobody ever expected it to produce significant recoil when fired, either. Personal experience with the thing’s enormous kick, however, had given Castle more insight into its methods of operation than most people tended to have. Knowing what to expect, he took aim, braced himself for the shock of the firing, and then gently squeezed the trigger.

Several dozen pounds per square inch of compressed air was suddenly released, causing an effect somewhat akin to “explosive decompression.” The abrupt expansion of the compressed gasses forced the projectile out of the magna-caster’s barrel, and sent it flying towards its intended target at high speed. Attached to the rear of the magnet-tipped harpoon was several dozen feet of cable – thin, but with a tensile strength sufficiently high enough for these purposes. The harpoon thudded against the inside of a stuck elevator lift-car and stuck fast against the wall, the metal haft quivering slightly from the force of the impact.

“So far so good,” said Imoen. She nodded towards Valygar. “Ok, Spectre, all yours.”

The Army Ranger was lying prone, his finger wrapped around the trigger of his Gauss rifle. The muzzle of the weapon was inclined upwards – a very unusual firing angle – but the supporting bipod held the rifle in place without protest. Valygar took a breath and leaned in closer to the magnification scope sitting just above the M-82’s receiver. Though the target wasn’t very far away, he was trying to hit something about the width of a child’s forearm – not a terribly difficult shot, but not one he wanted to miss.

He inhaled, held it for a second, then exhaled slowly. When his lungs were empty, he squeezed the trigger.

The .50 caliber iron-nickel slug snicked up into place, moving from the weapon’s ammunition magazine to the firing chamber. There, magnetic forces generated by the electrified coils running all along the barrel accelerated the round to supersonic speeds and ejected it from the end of the narrow, metal tube.

The Sergeant’s aim was true, and the emergency cable holding the elevator in place (the standard, primary anti-gravity motivator units had taken extensive damage and were no longer operational) snapped. The lift-car dropped like a stone, pulling with it the magnetic grapple attached inside, the cable attached to the grapple, and the… object attached to the cable…

Said object was, roughly, two hundred and ten pounds of Confederation Security Officer. The Confed soldier had been killed by a single Gauss round to the chest that had savaged his internal organs, splintered his rib cage, and left an exit wound the size of an orcish fist in his back. His wrists had been cuffed together and were tied to the cable binding his ankles together, which in turn was threaded through the loops formed by the cable attached to the mag-grapple.

The needlessly complex Rube-Goldbergian contraption leapt into motion the instant Valygar’s shot severed the elevator cable, sliding the body across the floor towards the cadre of laser turrets down at the end of the corridor. The body, having been inanimate for quite some time, had cooled to room temperature, and, as expected, did not draw the attentions of the turrets’ thermal sensors. It was, however, in danger of being yanked down the elevator shaft along with the rest of the descending debris. Thankfully, this possibility had been expected and planned for.

Imoen watched numbers flash past on her rangefinder, until just the right set of numbers came up. “Cut it!”

The Omegas had threaded the cable through a makeshift rig whose main feature was a heavy duty, industrial strength hydraulic cutter. With a mere flip of a switch, Minsc was able to sever the cable connecting the plummeting grapple to the dead Confed security officer. The friction between the body and the floor it was sliding across did the rest, the corpse coming to a stop right on target… or, at least close enough to it. The elevator car hitting the bottom of the shaft sent dust and grit billowing up through the shaft, and knocked Nalia off her feet. She slammed her shoulder against a nearby wall and collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. But other than that, the whole “bowling incident” hadn’t been a complete disaster.

Nalia reached out and took hold of Minsc’s hand as he helped her back to her feet. She had both eyes closed, and slowly opened them, squinting down towards the other end of the hallway, through all the dust and smoke. She coughed. “Are we dead yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure we’re not dead yet?”

Imoen blew a stray bang out of her eyes. “Listen, if we die, I promise I’ll let you know.”

#2 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 22 September 2005 - 08:14 AM

1. No, I haven't forced my way past the block yet. (Sigh) Instead, I've just been wasting time and energy expanding the sequences leading up to the area that I'm blocked at. Stalling for time, as it were. Blecch. Well, here's some of what those labors have wrought. :P


Whoa, now this is an uncharacteristically long chapter! Excellent! :D

2. Normally, most of the banter in these things is of the Raven/Harlequin variety. Ever wonder what Raven/Vixen banter would look like? Well, now you know... and knowing's half the battle! :?


I could fairly well imagine how it would look like, and I want to see MORE! :D

4. Falynn has a bit of a... "blonde moment." (And no, it's not at all related to the "bombshell" crack I made in Note #3.)


Yah… she’s really sinking too deep in that self-pity, so someone has to give her a bit of a rough shake. Otherwise it makes her a bit petulant and whimsical.

Promptly responding to the shouted warning, Jaheira threw herself forward and out of the way of the man-hack making for the back of her neck. The whirling blades hummed with lethal intent as they nearly took a chunk out of her combat helmet. The desperate movement, however, gave Falynn the clean shot she needed. A single, crimson-tinted laser bolt lashed out from the M-16 assault rifle, vaporizing a good-sized lump of the metal and ceramic that comprised the small attack drone. It crashed to the ground with the tortured whine of broken gears.


I hate those little annoying buggers. They seem very nasty indeed. :lol:

She and Falynn had known each other for years, and yet their relationship had always been somewhat… distant… sometimes even standoffish. Both women had simply chalked it up to a mild clash of personalities and had left it at that. After all, one of them was a strict disciplinarian, serious, stern and largely unforgiving, and the other was… well… clearly mentally unbalanced.


If you ask me they are both far more similar than they would care to admit. Jaheira has her own playful, humorous side that she tries not to let out and Lynn has that very serious martyrdom streak that she downplays with some corny jokes, and they both go out of their skin to hide these sides of their character.

Jaheira had to stop and laugh at that one (In her head, not out loud). There were times when even her own mind wouldn’t allow her to give Falynn a fair shake. The truth, however, was that, even in the beginning, when there seemed to be nothing between them but arguments waiting to happen, there had still always been a sense of mutual (if grudging) respect there. That, along with their friendship in general, had only grown stronger over the years, even if neither seemed willing to admit it out loud… though that didn’t necessarily mean that the frequency of their butting heads, in any way decreased.


The depth of a friendship can be very varying, and indeed, I recall you quite correctly remarking earlier that being friends doesn’t mean that you talk to each other about everything. However, I believe that everyone needs and wants at least one friend that you could talk to about pretty much everything… and I’m getting a feeling that Jaheira actually secretly wishes for her friendship with Lynn to be deeper.

Given the almost antithetical nature of their individualities, a few incidences of flared tempers were to be expected. Still, after all they’d been through together, what were a few harsh words and glib comments every now and again?


And that’s just it, really. You tend to think about how much of their friendship is all about these ‘few harsh words and glib comments’ and you start to wonder, is it supposed to be so? After all this time, shouldn’t we feel, I don’t know, a bit closer than that?

Right?


Yah, I see that she’s having doubts too. She wants to get through to Lynn, but probably doesn’t know how to do it best…

The half-elven squad medic looked her younger counterpart squarely in the eyes. “If something serious were truly amiss… you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” She’d wanted that to come out sounding more like a statement than the actual question it was, but she wasn’t so confident, anymore, that she’d get the answer she wanted.


Yeah… because I also got the feeling that Lynn probably wouldn’t come clean to Jaheira unless being prodded with something very sharp.

Jaheira cut her off as gently as she could. The Tethyrian had never considered herself the diplomatic sort, but even she knew that she couldn’t press too hard here… not if she genuinely wanted an answer to her question. “I suppose I was willing to accept that, earlier,” she shrugged, growing weary of it all. It was difficult for her to talk to Falynn (and vice versa, she was sure). Neither of them had apparently bothered to learn how to communicate with the other (Besides the basics: “Help, I think I’m bleeding…”), and this was almost completely new territory for both of them. “But I’m not, anymore.”


Good on you… and thinking long term, definitely good on you both.

And that was it. No way out or around. Falynn exhaled, her breath escaping her in a long, drawn-out sigh. “It’s not a simple question, Jaheira. It’s just laden with innuendo…” she said, laughing humorlessly. She waved her hands in protest, as if the gesturing would help make her point without the inconvenience of words. “I… you… you can’t ask that kind of question out of the blue, like that, you know? I mean, it’d be like me just point-blank asking you what the square root of sixty four is… for no apparent reason…”


Jaheira couldn’t help herself, though, to her credit, she didn’t laugh… or even smile. “Eight…” she replied.


Well, if all communication were that easy! :D

The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”


“I never said that… I never even thought-“


I can’t remember her saying that and I don’t think that she would say or think something like that, now, after all this time together. But I guess it just shows how deep Falynn’s misconceptions about Jaheira’s intentions are rooted… and that’s just sad. :D

“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”


“You’re what?!”


Okay… that wasn’t much of a ‘conversation’, since Lynn didn’t even give Jaheira a chance to say something. But at least some things have come out and hopefully Jaheira figures out the right way to react to all this.

Oh, and Lynn is acting just plain dumb. Silly martyr complexes… :D

“I don’t know, Lieutenant,” she said, still shivering from the near miss. “We’re kinda stuck here. Seems pretty effective to me.”


“I’d beg to differ, Nalia. One shot on target is worth a lot more than five that miss.”


Sometimes quantity is more important than quality. :D

“I’m open to suggestions, gang.” Imoen turned and found mostly blank expressions on the faces of the people behind her. She made a mildly-disgusted-sounding noise. “Thanks, guys. Big help.” She flicked her gaze over to Valygar. “Sarge, you know more about these things than I do. How do they track their targets? Thermal sensors, right?”


Imoen is quickly learning the perils of being a leader. :D

“This is true,” Valygar said with a nod, “but most automated emplacements have on-site backup systems just in case the primary recognition systems are damaged or otherwise incapacitated. If it’s believed that the primary IFF system is compromised, the security turrets can be set to fire only on moving forms not bearing a transponder tag keyed to a specific frequency. Tags would be issued to base personnel – especially security personnel and high-ranking officers.”


Imoen frowned. “I’m not sure I’m following you, Val. How does that help us?”


He was just explaining the technology behind it… nowhere did it say that it would be helpful information. :P

She couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of mildly-perturbed eye rolling. “Beauty. So… let me get this straight… we’re going to need to find a dead ConSec officer, and haul the poor bastard’s corpse with us to within like five feet of a bunch of high-powered turrets – high-powered enough to reduce us all to our component atoms, in case you were wondering – hoping it’ll be enough to prevent those guns from going all sickhouse on our asses…” She groaned, already starting to wonder just how they could possibly accomplish such a feat… and, more pointedly, what would happen to them if they failed. “As Lynn would say, ‘I like my ass, people!’”


I am not excited about that plan either. :D

She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.


:D Compared to the horrible jokes Viga’s Imeon makes, Harley’s witticisms are actually pretty funny! :)

Hearing me say that will probably make Harley grin smugly for days, of course. :D

Valygar Corthala folded down the collapsible bipod that was attached to the bottom of his rifle muzzle. The two metal legs looked flimsy, but were well capable of supporting the weight of the heavy Gauss weapon, and the immense recoil it generated whenever it fired. He made a few adjustments to the rifle’s sighting mechanisms, then pulled his eye away from the scope and looked up. “I’d like to go on the record as saying this is, by far, the single most idiotic idea I have ever heard.”


It came from Imoen, didn’t it? :D

“Well, seeing as how Falynn isn’t here at the moment, Jan and I are the closest things to physicists we’ve got… and this is what we came up with. You don’t like it, you’re perfectly free to try building your own low-budget, oversized, overpowered and unnecessarily complicated rig. But this one’s ours. So there.” Saliva flew from her mouth as she let loose with an extra-long raspberry.


Valygar rolled his eyes and sighed. “I believe the overall maturity level in this room just sank to a negative value.”


“Yeah, well, nanny-nanny-boo-boo, stick your head in doo-doo.”


Um, I take back everything I said about Harley’s jokes being good… :P What a mature commander she makes… :roll:

Imoen smiled sheepishly and corrected herself. “Excuse me. I had Boo do the calculations, and as best as we can tell, this -should- work… er…” she winced. “… in theory.”


Well, I actually trust Boo… as much as anyone would trust a holographic hamster. :P

“I’m not betting. It’s like Lieutenant Marael said. If you were wrong, how would I collect?”


“Why does everyone keep acting as if that’s -my- problem?” She sighed and put on her best ‘You wound me!’ look. “Minsc, you ready over there?”


Imoen was never one to inspire much confidence… but this time, I’m getting the air of inevitable and horrible DOOM. :P

The Sergeant’s aim was true, and the emergency cable holding the elevator in place (the standard, primary anti-gravity motivator units had taken extensive damage and were no longer operational) snapped. The lift-car dropped like a stone, pulling with it the magnetic grapple attached inside, the cable attached to the grapple, and the… object attached to the cable…


How do people come up with such improbable and quite frankly, silly, suicidal plans? :P

The Omegas had threaded the cable through a makeshift rig whose main feature was a heavy duty, industrial strength hydraulic cutter. With a mere flip of a switch, Minsc was able to sever the cable connecting the plummeting grapple to the dead Confed security officer. The friction between the body and the floor it was sliding across did the rest, the corpse coming to a stop right on target… or, at least close enough to it. The elevator car hitting the bottom of the shaft sent dust and grit billowing up through the shaft, and knocked Nalia off her feet. She slammed her shoulder against a nearby wall and collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. But other than that, the whole “bowling incident” hadn’t been a complete disaster.


I still cannot believe how that can work! It’s just way too silly! :)

Imoen blew a stray bang out of her eyes. “Listen, if we die, I promise I’ll let you know.”


You can just pinch yourself to make sure, you know. :D

#3 Guest_BlueNose_*

Posted 22 September 2005 - 04:02 PM

Notemeal and Pecan Crunch:

1. No, I haven't forced my way past the block yet. (Sigh) Instead, I've just been wasting time and energy expanding the sequences leading up to the area that I'm blocked at. Stalling for time, as it were. Blecch. Well, here's some of what those labors have wrought. :D


I think it was Dashiel Hammett who said that when he couldn't think of a way to contiune a story he had someone with a gun kick the door in. :lol:


Promptly responding to the shouted warning, Jaheira threw herself forward and out of the way of the man-hack making for the back of her neck. The whirling blades hummed with lethal intent as they nearly took a chunk out of her combat helmet. The desperate movement, however, gave Falynn the clean shot she needed. A single, crimson-tinted laser bolt lashed out from the M-16 assault rifle, vaporizing a good-sized lump of the metal and ceramic that comprised the small attack drone. It crashed to the ground with the tortured whine of broken gears.


It's just a thought, but if it's coming in from behind would ducking forward help? Down and to the side would seem more sensible.

Omega One shrugged, taking the genuine expression of gratitude, flipping it on its head, and transmogrifying it into something sardonic – an action perfectly in line with her rather mocking worldview. “Eh, don’t thank me. Just looking out for my own best interests. You know how many reports I’d have to file if you got yourself killed?”


Just get killed yourself :? Or desert perhaps. :roll:

their relationship had always been somewhat… distant… sometimes even standoffish.

The truth, however, was that, even in the beginning, when there seemed to be nothing between them but arguments waiting to happen, there had still always been a sense of mutual (if grudging) respect there. That, along with their friendship in general, had only grown stronger over the years, even if neither seemed willing to admit it out loud… though that didn’t necessarily mean that the frequency of their butting heads, in any way decreased.

Given the almost antithetical nature of their individualities, a few incidences of flared tempers were to be expected. Still, after all they’d been through together, what were a few harsh words and glib comments every now and again?


Or of course she might not actually consider you her friend, unlikely though that sounds.

She wasn’t convinced. Things were different this time… something was… wrong… and the way in which Falynn had seemingly begun to push everyone away was just one indication of that. Even Imoen was being held mostly at arm’s length, it seemed, and the very idea of that was frightening, as the two sisters had been quite inseparable their entire lives. Jaheira stood in silence for a few moments, watching as Falynn ran her fingertips across the edges of the security door they’d just sealed shut behind them. “Falynn?”

The other woman turned and looked up. “Hmmm?”

The half-elven squad medic looked her younger counterpart squarely in the eyes. “If something serious were truly amiss… you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” She’d wanted that to come out sounding more like a statement than the actual question it was, but she wasn’t so confident, anymore, that she’d get the answer she wanted.


If you have to ask that question, then the answer is probably No.

Jaheira cut her off as gently as she could. The Tethyrian had never considered herself the diplomatic sort, but even she knew that she couldn’t press too hard here… not if she genuinely wanted an answer to her question. “I suppose I was willing to accept that, earlier,” she shrugged, growing weary of it all. It was difficult for her to talk to Falynn (and vice versa, she was sure). Neither of them had apparently bothered to learn how to communicate with the other (Besides the basics: “Help, I think I’m bleeding…”), and this was almost completely new territory for both of them. “But I’m not, anymore.”


Because cutting off people's sentences and insisting they answer you is Jaheira's idea of diplomacy.

"You said you wanted some time to think,” the half-elf replied, obstinately refusing to let the matter drop without obtaining the response she’d come for. “Well, I had some time to think myself, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve come to.”

“Fair enough, but I’d argue that this is hardly the time or place to be having this manner of discussion… and I would figure that you, of all people, would know that.”

Jaheira realized that for what it was: a stall/diversion tactic. Had circumstances been different, she would almost have smiled at Falynn’s temerity when it came to avoiding significant, meaningful discussion. “You’re correct. Normally, I would agree with what you’ve just said… but given our current situation, I’m not entirely certain we’ll even have another opportunity… besides, it’s a simple question.”

And that was it. No way out or around. Falynn exhaled, her breath escaping her in a long, drawn-out sigh. “It’s not a simple question, Jaheira. It’s just laden with innuendo…” she said, laughing humorlessly. She waved her hands in protest, as if the gesturing would help make her point without the inconvenience of words. “I… you… you can’t ask that kind of question out of the blue, like that, you know? I mean, it’d be like me just point-blank asking you what the square root of sixty four is… for no apparent reason…”


Eight.

Try the square root of -1 next time.

Jaheira couldn’t help herself, though, to her credit, she didn’t laugh… or even smile. “Eight…” she replied.

Falynn groaned and thumped the side of her fist against her forehead a few times. “Damn it, Lynn… if you’re gonna do that, use a prime number next time!” She grumbled, “Idiot,” then paused for a moment to collect herself. “Okay… bad example, but you know where I’m going with this. Look… I’m fine, all right?” She made a small moue. “Mostly… just chill-ax, okay?”

“I would like nothing better than to ‘chill-ax,’ Falynn, but…”


But you've got your reputation as an interfering busy-body to think of.

“Jaheira, what you’re asking, that’s like me stopping to reflect on my life and all the various decisions I’ve made therein, while on my way to use the head… in other words, I don’t really do it.”

“Humor me.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now!” She felt like a terrier that had latched on to someone’s arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how much they squirmed, or how hard they fought back.

There were a few seconds of silence before Falynn finally quit struggling. She buried her face in her hand. “All right…” she said, her voice coming out muffled by the skin of her palm, “you wanna know? You wanna know what I’ve been thinking? Fine. Here it is: maybe you and Imoen were right.”

“About what?”

The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”

“I never said that… I never even thought-“


You have relieved Falynn of command for a perfectly good cause in the past, so you have thought that she shouldn't be doing this.

Falynn cut off her protests with an upraised hand. “Yes, you have… and it’s ok. I know I’ve been overprotective, and I know I’ve let my personal relationships with all of you cloud my judgment. I know that. I can’t deny it… and after… you know, that thing that happened back on Brynnlaw… I shouldn’t even try to deny it.”

“What happened there was understandable. I-“

“Yeah… you saved my career back then… but don’t you see? I can’t keep asking you to do that. I can’t keep having you or anyone else taking those kinds of risks for me. We both know what would have happened to you if the real story behind that Brynnlaw incident ever got out. You took a hell of a chance there… for my sake… and while I appreciate it, we both know it wasn’t fair to you. I won’t ask you to make that kind of a sacrifice ever again.”

“Falynn, you never had to ask-“

“No. I never did… and that’s what makes it worse. All the more reason why I refuse to let things get that far out of hand again.”

“I’m not sure what-“

“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”

“You’re what?!”


Now Falynn's acting like an idiot. Unless she transfers to a unit where she can't ever care about the people she commands, she's going to have to learn to deal with this situation.

I recommend shooting Jaheira as a start. :)


“They’re not very effective,” Imoen commented. She took a quick peek out from behind cover. There were at least a half-dozen automated laser emplacements, mounted on swivel turrets that allowed them to cover most of the corridor with overlapping fields of fire. Someone had apparently fiddled with the weapons’ IFF systems, and now the guns were completely unable to identify friend from foe. The fact that Nalia had nearly had her foot sliced off by a laser blast the moment she’d stepped around the corner was a testament to that.


Missing with a laser takes real talent.

She sighed, her excitement at finding “the answer” suddenly evaporating as she considered the implications of her realization. “Wait a second… let me guess, we’re talking really limited range on those transmitters, meaning we’d almost have to be right on top of those turrets to activate the failsafes.”


That seems to make them pretty useless, if carrying one only stops you getting shot when you got well inside the range at which the turrets start firing.

She couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of mildly-perturbed eye rolling. “Beauty. So… let me get this straight… we’re going to need to find a dead ConSec officer, and haul the poor bastard’s corpse with us to within like five feet of a bunch of high-powered turrets – high-powered enough to reduce us all to our component atoms, in case you were wondering – hoping it’ll be enough to prevent those guns from going all sickhouse on our asses…” She groaned, already starting to wonder just how they could possibly accomplish such a feat… and, more pointedly, what would happen to them if they failed. “As Lynn would say, ‘I like my ass, people!’”


So does everyone else. :D

There was a slightly amused smirk from Valygar. “You did say you were open to suggestions,” he said, smoothly managing to put the onus back on her.

It was a small, but clever bit of conversational trickery that Imoen simply hadn’t expected from the normally dour Army Ranger. She managed to keep from smiling, even if she did find the situation somewhat humorous. “I did, but I can’t say I was expecting someone to come up with a plan of action that involved us carting corpses around on our backs.”


That Valygar's a sly little b****r. All this laconic behaviour covers up a really devious and subtle sense of humour.

She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.

“It’s either that or we’ll all need to learn how to run faster than a laser blast.”

The left corner of her mouth quirked itself into a little grimace. “I think I’ll pass. Pulled a hamstring last time I tried my ‘universe’s fastest woman’ impression.”


I'm sure she'd be very good at it.

Valygar Corthala folded down the collapsible bipod that was attached to the bottom of his rifle muzzle. The two metal legs looked flimsy, but were well capable of supporting the weight of the heavy Gauss weapon, and the immense recoil it generated whenever it fired. He made a few adjustments to the rifle’s sighting mechanisms, then pulled his eye away from the scope and looked up. “I’d like to go on the record as saying this is, by far, the single most idiotic idea I have ever heard.”


You haven't been around Jan very long, have you. :)

The .50 caliber iron-nickel slug snicked up into place, moving from the weapon’s ammunition magazine to the firing chamber. There, magnetic forces generated by the electrified coils running all along the barrel accelerated the round to supersonic speeds and ejected it from the end of the narrow, metal tube.


Just out of interest, why is it such a large round? Doesn't that just increase the energy input requirement and the barrel weight? Wouldn't a higher muzzle velocity achieve the same effect in a lighter form?

#4 Guest_Kendris_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 03:07 AM

See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”


Oh, yeah...that's going to go over like a pregnant pole vaulter....

The needlessly complex Rube-Goldbergian contraption leapt into motion the instant Valygar’s shot severed the elevator cable, sliding the body across the floor towards the cadre of laser turrets down at the end of the corridor.



Okay...that was FUN!!!!

#5 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 04:45 AM

Whoa, now this is an uncharacteristically long chapter! Excellent!


You know, it makes me sad. There used to be a time (a long time ago) when pretty much -all- the chapters I put out where fairly lengthy... but then, I stopped being able to actually produce all that much material, so I had to shorten chapter lengths in order to get them out at a reasonable clip. Bleh.

I could fairly well imagine how it would look like, and I want to see MORE!


I figured as much. Good one (if you ask me) coming up next chapter. :)

Yah… she’s really sinking too deep in that self-pity, so someone has to give her a bit of a rough shake. Otherwise it makes her a bit petulant and whimsical.


Well, I think Falynn could stand for a bit of petulance. It's only fair that she be allowed to get a little whiny from time to time. It happens to everyone. :D But yeah, she does need a good kick in the butt... it'll happen.

I hate those little annoying buggers. They seem very nasty indeed.


And the gang has no crowbars with which to fend them off. Oh no!

If you ask me they are both far more similar than they would care to admit. Jaheira has her own playful, humorous side that she tries not to let out and Lynn has that very serious martyrdom streak that she downplays with some corny jokes, and they both go out of their skin to hide these sides of their character.


Part of it is simply pride, I think... the whole idea of developing a reputation and having to maintain it in front of others... but aside from that, yeah, one of them needs to be the "responsible" one, and one of them needs to have a little fun with life. So they kinda live vicariously through each other in that sense.

The depth of a friendship can be very varying, and indeed, I recall you quite correctly remarking earlier that being friends doesn’t mean that you talk to each other about everything. However, I believe that everyone needs and wants at least one friend that you could talk to about pretty much everything… and I’m getting a feeling that Jaheira actually secretly wishes for her friendship with Lynn to be deeper.


Certainly. If you'd known someone for that long, but all your conversations seemed kinda shallow and superficial, wouldn't you be a little concerned, too? It makes a lot of sense, I think, for Jaheira to start wondering just why they haven't become any closer than they've been.

Also, bear in mind that there almost hasn't been any need for "another" person to play confidante. Jaheira was, up until a fairly short while ago, married. Khalid was the one she talked to. Falynn had Imoen. That used to be enough.

After all this time, shouldn’t we feel, I don’t know, a bit closer than that?


Exactly. See above statement. :)

Yeah… because I also got the feeling that Lynn probably wouldn’t come clean to Jaheira unless being prodded with something very sharp.


Well, not necessary... but she -would- need to realize that something's going on... something beyond their usual banter and stuff. Once she picked up on that, though, she might be inclined to start thinking about... well, changing her thinking.

Well, if all communication were that easy!


This is why people claim that mathematics is the most primal language there is. :D

I can’t remember her saying that and I don’t think that she would say or think something like that, now, after all this time together. But I guess it just shows how deep Falynn’s misconceptions about Jaheira’s intentions are rooted… and that’s just sad.


Actually, the reply below yours brings up a good point... i.e the whole "mutiny" thing during Zero Gambit. Yes, there were "extenuating circumstances" involved, but she -did- think, at that point, that Falynn wasn't able to do her job properly... and, more importantly, was a danger to herself and others.

Oh, and Lynn is acting just plain dumb. Silly martyr complexes…


I know they're silly, but they always tend to show up... I suppose I've got one, too... :roll:

Sometimes quantity is more important than quality.


Seriously speaking? Yes. But remember that Imoen's combat style tends to favor precision and finesse over raw fire volume. Hard to believe, but it does. Harlequin is all about "One shot, one kill." While her brain realizes that suppression fire is, of course, useful, when actually engaging targets herself, she'd much prefer to shoot straight and eliminate the hostiles without too much fuss or muss.

I am not excited about that plan either.


And really, who -would- be?

Compared to the horrible jokes Viga’s Imeon makes, Harley’s witticisms are actually pretty funny!


:lol:

Well, all right, then! :D

Both versions do favor the sarcastic approach, but yeah, Varnas tends to like the puns... something that I'm not the hugest fan of, and so that stuff doesn't tend to make it into my dialogue all that often.

Um, I take back everything I said about Harley’s jokes being good…


Oh, come on... like anyone else, she has her high moments, and her low moments... this just happens to be the nadir of the spectrum.

:?

Well, I actually trust Boo… as much as anyone would trust a holographic hamster.


And if you actually knew Boo's true capabilities, you'd trust her implicitly.

How do people come up with such improbable and quite frankly, silly, suicidal plans?


Easy. I watch Mythbusters and do my best to emulate Adam Savage. :P

#6 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 07:00 AM

The depth of a friendship can be very varying, and indeed, I recall you quite correctly remarking earlier that being friends doesn’t mean that you talk to each other about everything. However, I believe that everyone needs and wants at least one friend that you could talk to about pretty much everything… and I’m getting a feeling that Jaheira actually secretly wishes for her friendship with Lynn to be deeper.


Certainly. If you'd known someone for that long, but all your conversations seemed kinda shallow and superficial, wouldn't you be a little concerned, too? It makes a lot of sense, I think, for Jaheira to start wondering just why they haven't become any closer than they've been.


Also, bear in mind that there almost hasn't been any need for "another" person to play confidante. Jaheira was, up until a fairly short while ago, married. Khalid was the one she talked to. Falynn had Imoen. That used to be enough.


I'm afraid that my memory is a bit rusty, but somehow I had thought that the whole thing that led to Khalid's death happened years ago, didn't it? :?

I can’t remember her saying that and I don’t think that she would say or think something like that, now, after all this time together. But I guess it just shows how deep Falynn’s misconceptions about Jaheira’s intentions are rooted… and that’s just sad.


Actually, the reply below yours brings up a good point... i.e the whole "mutiny" thing during Zero Gambit. Yes, there were "extenuating circumstances" involved, but she -did- think, at that point, that Falynn wasn't able to do her job properly... and, more importantly, was a danger to herself and others.


And, most importantly, she *was* right in thinking that.

I think that if Lynn would be thinking calmly and rationally she would also agree to that and see that the decision that Jaheira took had nothing to do with her own ambitions. But right now, I guess her negative mindset makes her see everything through a slightly distorting prism... which is entirely understandable, too.

#7 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 01:43 PM

I think it was Dashiel Hammett who said that when he couldn't think of a way to contiune a story he had someone with a gun kick the door in.


Sounds like a plan... we've got plenty of doors, and plenty of guns... ;)

It's just a thought, but if it's coming in from behind would ducking forward help? Down and to the side would seem more sensible.


Not when the person shooting the thing off you is to your side, and not directly behind you or in front of you. (Shrug)

Or of course she might not actually consider you her friend, unlikely though that sounds.


Definitely unlikely... it's just that neither is much of the "talk about my feelings" type. :shock:

If you have to ask that question, then the answer is probably No.


Well, right... but she still needs an answer... and she's still hoping (perhaps uncharacteristically so) that she'll get the answer she wanted.

Because cutting off people's sentences and insisting they answer you is Jaheira's idea of diplomacy.


Hey, it's still "negotiation"... she -could- just start hitting people. ;)

Try the square root of -1 next time.


Um. You mean i?

:evil:

But you've got your reputation as an interfering busy-body to think of.


Now, now, no need to be so harsh with her. She's honestly concerned. I think it's sweet. :?

You have relieved Falynn of command for a perfectly good cause in the past, so you have thought that she shouldn't be doing this.


True, but the circumstances there were rather extenuating. Under most normal combat circumstances, Falynn usually knows how to keep her head pretty well, and most people, especially those in her unit, have come to realize that. (Shrug)

Now Falynn's acting like an idiot. Unless she transfers to a unit where she can't ever care about the people she commands, she's going to have to learn to deal with this situation.


Unless she ends up just taking a voluntary demotion and not being the leader, anymore.

But yeah, actually, you've caught on to exactly where this is going, and someone -will- be calling her on this exact argument in the future. It won't be pretty for her to deal with, but I found it kinda funny. :D

I recommend shooting Jaheira as a start.


Yeesh. Not a fan, are we? :roll:

Missing with a laser takes real talent.


Well, I know they're "lasers", but I don't think these actually travel at the speed of light... I know, I know, more techno-silliness, but... eh...

That seems to make them pretty useless, if carrying one only stops you getting shot when you got well inside the range at which the turrets start firing.


Better than not being able to stop them at all, under any circumstances short of destroying all the damned things.

So does everyone else.


Apparently. ;)

That Valygar's a sly little b****r. All this laconic behaviour covers up a really devious and subtle sense of humour.


You might not be too far from the truth, there... :arrow:

I'm sure she'd be very good at it.


Not really... she doesn't exactly have Flash-scale superpowers.

You haven't been around Jan very long, have you.


No. No, he hasn't. He will learn.

Just out of interest, why is it such a large round? Doesn't that just increase the energy input requirement and the barrel weight? Wouldn't a higher muzzle velocity achieve the same effect in a lighter form?


Yes, it would. But I wanted a .50 cal sniper rifle. Because those things are crazy. :D

#8 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 01:46 PM

Oh, yeah... that's going to go over like a pregnant pole vaulter...


Um... yeah... nice choice of simile, there... :arrow:

But yeah, it's doubtful the rest of her unit is gonna much like that idea. They're probably going to get kinda snippy about it. We'll see.

Okay...that was FUN!!!!


Yep. Wackiness like this is why I watch Mythbusters. Those guys are nutjobs. :evil:

#9 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 23 September 2005 - 02:11 PM

As someone has to do it....

Alpha, your license for Latin has been revoked. The reason being, in Roman numerals, the number 40 is displayed as XL. Much like this year's Super Bowl.

And it would be more appropriate, considering the lengthy nature of this chapter. :shock:

1. No, I haven't forced my way past the block yet. (Sigh) Instead, I've just been wasting time and energy expanding the sequences leading up to the area that I'm blocked at. Stalling for time, as it were. Blecch. Well, here's some of what those labors have wrought. :D


Nothing wrong with expanding existing sections. And lo and behold, I actually have a two chapter buffer! Well, both are prelude sections, but still. That's weird.

2. Normally, most of the banter in these things is of the Raven/Harlequin variety. Ever wonder what Raven/Vixen banter would look like? Well, now you know... and knowing's half the battle! ;)


GI JOE! ;)

3. Watch out for the "bombshell" at the end of the first section. :arrow:


INCOMING!!!

4. Falynn has a bit of a... "blonde moment." (And no, it's not at all related to the "bombshell" crack I made in Note #3.)


Bran: "That would involve some serious surgery. And hair dye."

Dr. Aerie: "W...well, we could simply re..resequence her genetic code and put her in a regen tank."

Bran: "I don't think she'd like that."

5. Just for the record, I -did- catch the Mythbusters' "Elevator of Death" episode... the bit at the end is somewhat inspired by that... even if it's flat-out wrong from a technical standpoint. :)

But hey, UU helped with the idea, so you can blame him, too. :?


We'll let this one slide.

“Behind you!”


Or perhaps, nice behind? :evil:

Promptly responding to the shouted warning, Jaheira threw herself forward and out of the way of the man-hack making for the back of her neck. The whirling blades hummed with lethal intent as they nearly took a chunk out of her combat helmet. The desperate movement, however, gave Falynn the clean shot she needed. A single, crimson-tinted laser bolt lashed out from the M-16 assault rifle, vaporizing a good-sized lump of the metal and ceramic that comprised the small attack drone. It crashed to the ground with the tortured whine of broken gears.


Nasty little buggers, trying to turn our Jaheira into deli meat slices.

Omega One shrugged, taking the genuine expression of gratitude, flipping it on its head, and transmogrifying it into something sardonic – an action perfectly in line with her rather mocking worldview. “Eh, don’t thank me. Just looking out for my own best interests. You know how many reports I’d have to file if you got yourself killed?”


And another Falynn witicism™ :D

Jaheira scowled briefly at Falynn’s customary attempts to deflect any and all serious conversation with badly misplaced humor. “Your concern for my welfare is touching,” she replied, trying to keep up her side of their usual banter. On the surface, this one conversation was similar to multitudes of others they’d had before: Jaheira would say something serious and, as a pro forma gesture, Falynn would have to take a satirical axe to it, reducing the entire discussion to an article of gross untidiness – one possessing an intellectual value akin to toenail clippings. It was as much SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) as swapping out an empty ammunition magazine for a new one… and it was a cornerstone of their oddly warped friendship. Both had become accustomed to it… at least, Jaheira thought she’d become accustomed to it – she was starting to feel as if she should reconsider that putative notion.


Bran: "Its funny how that can all shake out."

And a nice Jaheira description of their banter. :)

She and Falynn had known each other for years, and yet their relationship had always been somewhat… distant… sometimes even standoffish. Both women had simply chalked it up to a mild clash of personalities and had left it at that. After all, one of them was a strict disciplinarian, serious, stern and largely unforgiving, and the other was… well… clearly mentally unbalanced.


Jaheira: "Very clearly mentally unbalanced, but not as bad as the sister."

Jaheira had to stop and laugh at that one (In her head, not out loud). There were times when even her own mind wouldn’t allow her to give Falynn a fair shake. The truth, however, was that, even in the beginning, when there seemed to be nothing between them but arguments waiting to happen, there had still always been a sense of mutual (if grudging) respect there. That, along with their friendship in general, had only grown stronger over the years, even if neither seemed willing to admit it out loud… though that didn’t necessarily mean that the frequency of their butting heads, in any way decreased.


It is funny how people slip into patterns of behavior, certain abters, comments, actions that become as much fo the friendship as the meaning behind them.

Given the almost antithetical nature of their individualities, a few incidences of flared tempers were to be expected. Still, after all they’d been through together, what were a few harsh words and glib comments every now and again?

Right?

She wasn’t convinced. Things were different this time… something was… wrong… and the way in which Falynn had seemingly begun to push everyone away was just one indication of that. Even Imoen was being held mostly at arm’s length, it seemed, and the very idea of that was frightening, as the two sisters had been quite inseparable their entire lives. Jaheira stood in silence for a few moments, watching as Falynn ran her fingertips across the edges of the security door they’d just sealed shut behind them. “Falynn?”


These two paragraphs I think really start bringing home the change in Falynn. The sections between Immy and Falynn, show its there, but it limits it to the two players in that particular drama, could just be guilt or sadness... but the realization from Jaheria and the questions... well, it shows how far it spread.

Excellently done.

The half-elven squad medic looked her younger counterpart squarely in the eyes. “If something serious were truly amiss… you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” She’d wanted that to come out sounding more like a statement than the actual question it was, but she wasn’t so confident, anymore, that she’d get the answer she wanted.


Is it the answer you wanted, or an answer at all?

The abrupt inquiry brought a look of slight confusion to the human woman’s features. “We’re not starting this again, are we? I thought I told you I wasn’t really ready to talk about that whole problem with -”

Jaheira cut her off as gently as she could. The Tethyrian had never considered herself the diplomatic sort, but even she knew that she couldn’t press too hard here… not if she genuinely wanted an answer to her question. “I suppose I was willing to accept that, earlier,” she shrugged, growing weary of it all. It was difficult for her to talk to Falynn (and vice versa, she was sure). Neither of them had apparently bothered to learn how to communicate with the other (Besides the basics: “Help, I think I’m bleeding…”), and this was almost completely new territory for both of them. “But I’m not, anymore.”


Bran: "Jaheira is... persistent. That is for certain."

“You said you wanted some time to think,” the half-elf replied, obstinately refusing to let the matter drop without obtaining the response she’d come for. “Well, I had some time to think myself, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve come to.”


I can see that...

“Fair enough, but I’d argue that this is hardly the time or place to be having this manner of discussion… and I would figure that you, of all people, would know that.”

Jaheira realized that for what it was: a stall/diversion tactic. Had circumstances been different, she would almost have smiled at Falynn’s temerity when it came to avoiding significant, meaningful discussion. “You’re correct. Normally, I would agree with what you’ve just said… but given our current situation, I’m not entirely certain we’ll even have another opportunity… besides, it’s a simple question.”


You know, its odd how sometimes these conversations need to happen at the most inopportune time. I think its the stress of those situations that crack certain shields and allow for a person to ask and a person to answer.

And that was it. No way out or around. Falynn exhaled, her breath escaping her in a long, drawn-out sigh. “It’s not a simple question, Jaheira. It’s just laden with innuendo…” she said, laughing humorlessly. She waved her hands in protest, as if the gesturing would help make her point without the inconvenience of words. “I… you… you can’t ask that kind of question out of the blue, like that, you know? I mean, it’d be like me just point-blank asking you what the square root of sixty four is… for no apparent reason…”

Jaheira couldn’t help herself, though, to her credit, she didn’t laugh… or even smile. “Eight…” she replied.


*snigger*

Falynn groaned and thumped the side of her fist against her forehead a few times. “Damn it, Lynn… if you’re gonna do that, use a prime number next time!” She grumbled, “Idiot,” then paused for a moment to collect herself. “Okay… bad example, but you know where I’m going with this. Look… I’m fine, all right?” She made a small moue. “Mostly… just chill-ax, okay?”


Chill-ax? Nice word there. And love the 'blonde' moment. :)

“Jaheira, what you’re asking, that’s like me stopping to reflect on my life and all the various decisions I’ve made therein, while on my way to use the head… in other words, I don’t really do it.”

“Humor me.”


Bran: "She isn't going to let it go, Lynn. Surrender now before she starts twisting arms."

“Now?”

“Yes, now!” She felt like a terrier that had latched on to someone’s arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how much they squirmed, or how hard they fought back.


An interesting image... but for the scene, fitting. :?

There were a few seconds of silence before Falynn finally quit struggling. She buried her face in her hand. “All right…” she said, her voice coming out muffled by the skin of her palm, “you wanna know? You wanna know what I’ve been thinking? Fine. Here it is: maybe you and Imoen were right.”

“About what?”


And here ... it.. comes. All the guilt, anger, anguish and self doubt that can paralyze a leader but makes that leader human, all in one big gout.

The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”


;)

Bran: "It isn't easy. It never is. And the occassional doubt isn't bad, so long as you don't let it eat you up."

“I never said that… I never even thought-“


Bran: "It's the martydom streak kicking up.. plus the self doubt. They can be a dangerous combination."

Falynn cut off her protests with an upraised hand. “Yes, you have… and it’s ok. I know I’ve been overprotective, and I know I’ve let my personal relationships with all of you cloud my judgment. I know that. I can’t deny it… and after… you know, that thing that happened back on Brynnlaw… I shouldn’t even try to deny it.”


Bran: "Look. Lynn. You are a human being. Flesh and blood. With emotions. You can't deny it, you can't help but caring. If try and stop, you're going to miss all those moments, all those good times with those you care about. And you'll hate yourself even more."

“What happened there was understandable. I-“


Jaheira: "Did what every good exec would do."

“Yeah… you saved my career back then… but don’t you see? I can’t keep asking you to do that. I can’t keep having you or anyone else taking those kinds of risks for me. We both know what would have happened to you if the real story behind that Brynnlaw incident ever got out. You took a hell of a chance there… for my sake… and while I appreciate it, we both know it wasn’t fair to you. I won’t ask you to make that kind of a sacrifice ever again.”


Bran: "But that is what a good leader does. Not by choice, but because they know you'd do it for them."

“Falynn, you never had to ask-“

“No. I never did… and that’s what makes it worse. All the more reason why I refuse to let things get that far out of hand again.”


;)

Similar scene:

www.angels2200.com - jump to comic 172.

“I’m not sure what-“

“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”

“You’re what?!”


;)

Yup, that's a bombshell. ;)

“Sentry guns are bad.”


Imoen: "Bad as in liverwurst or bad as in decadent chocolate cake?"

Nalia: "How is chocolate bad?"

Imoen: "Girl, if you don't know that... well... you'll just have to find out."

Valygar affirmed Nalia’s comment. “Sentry guns are very bad.”


Imoen: "Truer words haven't been spoken.

“They’re not very effective,” Imoen commented. She took a quick peek out from behind cover. There were at least a half-dozen automated laser emplacements, mounted on swivel turrets that allowed them to cover most of the corridor with overlapping fields of fire. Someone had apparently fiddled with the weapons’ IFF systems, and now the guns were completely unable to identify friend from foe. The fact that Nalia had nearly had her foot sliced off by a laser blast the moment she’d stepped around the corner was a testament to that.


Bran: "Lucky for you. And if those sensor systems hadn't been fragged, it might be a different story."

“I’d beg to differ, Nalia. One shot on target is worth a lot more than five that miss.”


Valygar: "Indeed."

Bran: "Definitely."

Cipher shook her head in mild disbelief. “You know, you sound just like my combat instructors at the Academy.”

The comment drew a smile from the younger (and generally less serious) of the two Llyr sisters. “What can I say? Sometimes, I actually did pay attention in class.” Her smile faded quickly, however, as she mulled their situation over. Getting past the automated defenses guarding the corridor in front of them wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only route remotely available to them that would allow them to link back up with Falynn and Jaheira. Hence the necessity of finding a course around (or even through) the six laser turrets and their well laid-out, overlapping zones of instant death.


Bran: "Command sucks, don't it Harly. And well, gunnery instructors have a way of making themselves memorable."

“I’m open to suggestions, gang.” Imoen turned and found mostly blank expressions on the faces of the people behind her. She made a mildly-disgusted-sounding noise. “Thanks, guys. Big help.”


LOL

Spectre nodded. “That’s usually their primary method, yes… but you do run into some problems with that.”

“Namely how do you differentiate one big ol’ blob of heat from any other?”


Shoot them all?

“Correct.”

“Transponder tags, then?” she hazarded a guess.

“That would be the most straightforward method.”


Generally good practice. IFF systems work great until they go screwy.

“This is true,” Valygar said with a nod, “but most automated emplacements have on-site backup systems just in case the primary recognition systems are damaged or otherwise incapacitated. If it’s believed that the primary IFF system is compromised, the security turrets can be set to fire only on moving forms not bearing a transponder tag keyed to a specific frequency. Tags would be issued to base personnel – especially security personnel and high-ranking officers.”


A good failsafe, if you can get close enough to activate it.

“These tags aren’t just something you keep in your pocket, Lieutenant. They’d be well-hidden… maybe sewn somewhere into a uniform, or even…”

Imoen snapped her fingers, suddenly catching on to Valygar’s train of thought. “Or even in a subdermal implant?”


Oh lord, crypt robbing time.

She sighed, her excitement at finding “the answer” suddenly evaporating as she considered the implications of her realization. “Wait a second… let me guess, we’re talking really limited range on those transmitters, meaning we’d almost have to be right on top of those turrets to activate the failsafes.”

“Unfortunately, that would likely be the case.”


That could be... problematic.

She couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of mildly-perturbed eye rolling. “Beauty. So… let me get this straight… we’re going to need to find a dead ConSec officer, and haul the poor bastard’s corpse with us to within like five feet of a bunch of high-powered turrets – high-powered enough to reduce us all to our component atoms, in case you were wondering – hoping it’ll be enough to prevent those guns from going all sickhouse on our asses…” She groaned, already starting to wonder just how they could possibly accomplish such a feat… and, more pointedly, what would happen to them if they failed. “As Lynn would say, ‘I like my ass, people!’”


Bran: "Gotta love the easy jobs."

There was a slightly amused smirk from Valygar. “You did say you were open to suggestions,” he said, smoothly managing to put the onus back on her.

It was a small, but clever bit of conversational trickery that Imoen simply hadn’t expected from the normally dour Army Ranger. She managed to keep from smiling, even if she did find the situation somewhat humorous. “I did, but I can’t say I was expecting someone to come up with a plan of action that involved us carting corpses around on our backs.”


Imoen: "He can be tricky like that."

Bran: "Usually gets you."

“It’s a little morbid, I know.” All told, it was a pretty shallow defense of the idea.


*snigger*

She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.


Imoen: "I knew there was something odd about Harly. Girl always had this weird, Queen of the Undead vibe going on about her."

“It’s either that or we’ll all need to learn how to run faster than a laser blast.”

The left corner of her mouth quirked itself into a little grimace. “I think I’ll pass. Pulled a hamstring last time I tried my ‘universe’s fastest woman’ impression.”


Valygar: "Was that the one involving the spandex and cape, or the more au natural look?"

Imoen: "Are you looking at pictures of Harly?"

Valygar: "But of course."

Imoen: "Men."

Valygar: "Indeed."

Valygar Corthala folded down the collapsible bipod that was attached to the bottom of his rifle muzzle. The two metal legs looked flimsy, but were well capable of supporting the weight of the heavy Gauss weapon, and the immense recoil it generated whenever it fired. He made a few adjustments to the rifle’s sighting mechanisms, then pulled his eye away from the scope and looked up. “I’d like to go on the record as saying this is, by far, the single most idiotic idea I have ever heard.”


Bran: "Then you haven't been working with the Omegas that long.

Imoen Llyr finished tying a handful of knots into the length of cable she held in her hands. She tugged on them to test their strength. “Right. Someone put that down in the minutes, please.”


*snigger*

At the other end of the cable, Nalia de’Arnisse was busy attaching the high-tensile strength line to a magnetic grapple. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”


Bran: "Once again, obviously an Omega rookie."

“Well, seeing as how Falynn isn’t here at the moment, Jan and I are the closest things to physicists we’ve got… and this is what we came up with. You don’t like it, you’re perfectly free to try building your own low-budget, oversized, overpowered and unnecessarily complicated rig. But this one’s ours. So there.” Saliva flew from her mouth as she let loose with an extra-long raspberry.


Valygar: "She surprisingly has a point. Not a good one, but a point."

Valygar rolled his eyes and sighed. “I believe the overall maturity level in this room just sank to a negative value.”


Bran: "Just?"

“Yeah, well, nanny-nanny-boo-boo, stick your head in doo-doo.”


Imoen: "Well, it's nice to see Harly acting her age."

“Thank you for making my point so eloquently, Lieutenant.”


*snigger*

“Um… are we sure this is going to work?”

Imoen shook her head. “No, Nalia, we’re not sure. You can’t be sure of much in our line of work. But, I’ve done the calculations-“


"I must have misplaced a decimal point! I'm always doing that! Stupid Stupid Stupid!!"

There was the sound of someone abruptly clearing their throat. It came from the general vicinity of Minsc’s shoulder.

Imoen smiled sheepishly and corrected herself. “Excuse me. I had Boo do the calculations, and as best as we can tell, this -should- work… er…” she winced. “… in theory.”


Imoen: "Well, if the Comp-U-Boo did them, there's actually a chance everyone isn't going to die. A slight chance."

Nalia pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Oh, my dear Deneir… we’re going to die, aren’t we?”


Imoen: "With Harly in charge, I'd take the over on that bet."

“Of course we’re not going to die.” Harlequin grinned. “Crippling and/or disfiguring injury, however, is a distinct possibility.” She shrugged, nonchalantly. “Though I doubt it’ll come to that. Trust me!”


Valygar: "That last phrase, whenever uttered by an Imoen, makes all men cringe."

“No offense intended, but why does anyone -ever- trust you, Lieutenant?”


Valygar: "Repetitive head trauma. Or blind wishful thinking."

She winked and snickered. “Because there’s no one else -to- trust. I have a monopoly on a certain commodity – namely, people available to be trusted, whether deserving or not – and boy howdy, you’d better believe I’m going to exploit it. Ain’t capitalism grand?”


Monopolistic Imoen... *shivers*

“And people at the university I attended told me I was crazy for talking like a socialist.”


Nah. Not at all.

“Relax, will ya? Hundred credits says we don’t die.”

“I’m not betting. It’s like Lieutenant Marael said. If you were wrong, how would I collect?”


That's what we call the true sucker bet.

“Why does everyone keep acting as if that’s -my- problem?” She sighed and put on her best ‘You wound me!’ look. “Minsc, you ready over there?”


Imoen: "Because Harly, most people don't have the intelligence of cottage cheese."

The bald-headed heavy weapons specialist looked a trifle bemused at the proceedings. He shrugged, even as a mild frown crossed his features. “Yes, but Minsc is not entirely sure how a giant magnet will help us smite evil. Magnets aren’t sharp like swords… or shiny… and they most certainly do not turn evil foes into exploded squishies.”


Minsc: "Unless you drop them on Evil! Or plant many explosives on them!"

Imoen knelt down beside the dead Confed soldier and whispered a few words that the rest of the team couldn’t hear. Nalia was no lip-reader, but she was fairly certain the Lieutenant was mouthing some kind of prayer. Harlequin looked up and gave one terse nod of her head. “Ok. Do it.”


Its the little touches like this that keep Harly human. :roll:

The magna-caster that Minsc held in his hands looked deceptively fragile, and as such, nobody ever expected it to produce significant recoil when fired, either. Personal experience with the thing’s enormous kick, however, had given Castle more insight into its methods of operation than most people tended to have. Knowing what to expect, he took aim, braced himself for the shock of the firing, and then gently squeezed the trigger.

Several dozen pounds per square inch of compressed air was suddenly released, causing an effect somewhat akin to “explosive decompression.” The abrupt expansion of the compressed gasses forced the projectile out of the magna-caster’s barrel, and sent it flying towards its intended target at high speed. Attached to the rear of the magnet-tipped harpoon was several dozen feet of cable – thin, but with a tensile strength sufficiently high enough for these purposes. The harpoon thudded against the inside of a stuck elevator lift-car and stuck fast against the wall, the metal haft quivering slightly from the force of the impact.


Oh dear god.

This poor officer's name was Buster, wasn't it?

“So far so good,” said Imoen. She nodded towards Valygar. “Ok, Spectre, all yours.”

The Army Ranger was lying prone, his finger wrapped around the trigger of his Gauss rifle. The muzzle of the weapon was inclined upwards – a very unusual firing angle – but the supporting bipod held the rifle in place without protest. Valygar took a breath and leaned in closer to the magnification scope sitting just above the M-82’s receiver. Though the target wasn’t very far away, he was trying to hit something about the width of a child’s forearm – not a terribly difficult shot, but not one he wanted to miss.


Valygar: "The quest for precision."

He inhaled, held it for a second, then exhaled slowly. When his lungs were empty, he squeezed the trigger.

The .50 caliber iron-nickel slug snicked up into place, moving from the weapon’s ammunition magazine to the firing chamber. There, magnetic forces generated by the electrified coils running all along the barrel accelerated the round to supersonic speeds and ejected it from the end of the narrow, metal tube.

The Sergeant’s aim was true, and the emergency cable holding the elevator in place (the standard, primary anti-gravity motivator units had taken extensive damage and were no longer operational) snapped. The lift-car dropped like a stone, pulling with it the magnetic grapple attached inside, the cable attached to the grapple, and the… object attached to the cable…


There goes the cable... and there goes Major Buster!

Said object was, roughly, two hundred and ten pounds of Confederation Security Officer. The Confed soldier had been killed by a single Gauss round to the chest that had savaged his internal organs, splintered his rib cage, and left an exit wound the size of an orcish fist in his back. His wrists had been cuffed together and were tied to the cable binding his ankles together, which in turn was threaded through the loops formed by the cable attached to the mag-grapple.


I hope the subdural implant hadn't been blown out as well....

The needlessly complex Rube-Goldbergian contraption leapt into motion the instant Valygar’s shot severed the elevator cable, sliding the body across the floor towards the cadre of laser turrets down at the end of the corridor. The body, having been inanimate for quite some time, had cooled to room temperature, and, as expected, did not draw the attentions of the turrets’ thermal sensors. It was, however, in danger of being yanked down the elevator shaft along with the rest of the descending debris. Thankfully, this possibility had been expected and planned for.


Good thing the cannons don't have motion sensors....

Imoen watched numbers flash past on her rangefinder, until just the right set of numbers came up. “Cut it!”

The Omegas had threaded the cable through a makeshift rig whose main feature was a heavy duty, industrial strength hydraulic cutter. With a mere flip of a switch, Minsc was able to sever the cable connecting the plummeting grapple to the dead Confed security officer. The friction between the body and the floor it was sliding across did the rest, the corpse coming to a stop right on target… or, at least close enough to it. The elevator car hitting the bottom of the shaft sent dust and grit billowing up through the shaft, and knocked Nalia off her feet. She slammed her shoulder against a nearby wall and collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. But other than that, the whole “bowling incident” hadn’t been a complete disaster.


Well, in case any Dominion troopers were looking for you, they've found you now!

Dominion Grunt 1: "Eh! What was that?"

Dominion Grunt 2: "Either something big crashing or my johnson hitting the deck again! Har Har Har!"

Dominion Sergeant: "Shut up you worthless goblinhumpers! We've got Confed troops to kill! Follow me!"

Nalia reached out and took hold of Minsc’s hand as he helped her back to her feet. She had both eyes closed, and slowly opened them, squinting down towards the other end of the hallway, through all the dust and smoke. She coughed. “Are we dead yet?”


Imoen: "A useful question to ask around Harly." :D

“No.”

“Are you sure we’re not dead yet?”

Imoen blew a stray bang out of her eyes. “Listen, if we die, I promise I’ll let you know.”


Well, at least there is that.

Good stuff Alpha. Very polished and entertaining with a great emotional section in the first section and one heck of a weird contraption in the second. Excellent. Now just fix the damn numerals. :D

VH

#10 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 24 September 2005 - 02:39 PM

I'm afraid that my memory is a bit rusty, but somehow I had thought that the whole thing that led to Khalid's death happened years ago, didn't it?


Not exactly, no.

18 Flamerule, FY 2257 (Operation Lone Fox - Athkatla Station)

2 Alturiak, FY 2258 (Operation Pandora Trigger; Omega – Main)

(And, yes, technically, for timeline purposes, the main Omega plotline is referred to as "Operation Pandora Trigger" (Shrug) )

So, no, only a couple of months, really.

And, just in case you were curious:

4 Flamerule, FY 2258 (Operation Ghost Dance - Generis)

8 Tarsakh, FY 2256 (Operation Zero Gambit – Brynnlaw V)

26 Mirtul, FY 2255 (Operation Feral Burn - K’Tithrak Mang)

19 Hammer, FY 2254 (Operation Arctic Flare - Bastogne)

:twisted:

#11 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 24 September 2005 - 03:01 PM

Alpha, your license for Latin has been revoked. The reason being, in Roman numerals, the number 40 is displayed as XL. Much like this year's Super Bowl.


Ah, f#@*. You're right. I hate making stupid mistakes like that. Screw it. I'm f#$*ing changing over to regular numerals. Damn it.

No, really, I'm actually pretty annoyed I miss that.

Nothing wrong with expanding existing sections. And lo and behold, I actually have a two chapter buffer! Well, both are prelude sections, but still. That's weird.


Weird, but good, isn't it? I mean, it's nice having that buffer, right? Unless you're like me and having a buffer just means you feel compelled to extend it. (Sigh)

GI JOE!


Exactly.

Bran: "That would involve some serious surgery. And hair dye."

Dr. Aerie: "W...well, we could simply re..resequence her genetic code and put her in a regen tank."

Bran: "I don't think she'd like that."


Well, Falynn has brown hair... which could easily be bleached blonde... but I just don't think she'd look right as a blonde. So... no... though I still think that tattoo idea might not be so bad. ;)

Or perhaps, nice behind?


I guess ass jokes are the new boob jokes, huh? :twisted:

And another Falynn witicism™


Eh, it's an old joke, and not a terribly good one, but I was having a hard time coming up with something ruinously clever.

And a nice Jaheira description of their banter.


Granted, that's just how -her- opinion of the way things are is... but I imagine Falynn's is probably much the same.

Jaheira: "Very clearly mentally unbalanced, but not as bad as the sister."


Heh. You sure about that? :shock:

but the realization from Jaheria and the questions... well, it shows how far it spread.


(Nod) Obviously, she doesn't totally break down, since there are stories, further in the timeline where she's, say, still alive and not crazy (Relatively speaking), but yeah... things are a bit dicey for her at the moment.

You know, its odd how sometimes these conversations need to happen at the most inopportune time. I think its the stress of those situations that crack certain shields and allow for a person to ask and a person to answer.


You could be right about that... of course, Falynn's nature being what it is, she will, some time soon, be teasing Jaheira about this... you know, that's just how she is. ;)

Chill-ax? Nice word there. And love the 'blonde' moment.


She's got a brain, she just doesn't use it a lot of the time. :D

"Chill-ax" is from a Family Guy episode.

Student: "Yo, Mr. Griffin... chill-ax... we're doing the best we can."

Brian: "I'd like nothing better to do than chill-ax, Amanda... but without a good education, you could end up as a motel maid... or a ditchdigger."

Student: "I could be a motel maid?!"

Student 2: "I could be a ditchdigger?!"

Student 3: "Wow, Mr. Griffin, nobody's ever believed we could do anything before..."

Student: "Oh, Captain, my Captain..."

Brian: "Well, I- I mean, that is..."

:)

Bran: "She isn't going to let it go, Lynn. Surrender now before she starts twisting arms."


Raven: "She wouldn't do that... she'd just have to put those arms back when she was done."

Bran: "It isn't easy. It never is. And the occassional doubt isn't bad, so long as you don't let it eat you up."


Which she doesn't, for the most part... but it's something that's always stuck with her. It comes in fits and sieges, but even when it's not around, it's... around.

www.angels2200.com - jump to comic 172.


You follow this webcomic on a regular basis?

Generally good practice. IFF systems work great until they go screwy.


Yep. Then they think everyone's a bad guy... or worse, that the bad guys are the good guys...

Imoen: "He can be tricky like that."

Bran: "Usually gets you."


As you yourself said at one point: Imoen may have the raw talent, but Valygar has a whole wealth of experience. :)

Valygar: "Was that the one involving the spandex and cape, or the more au natural look?"

Imoen: "Are you looking at pictures of Harly?"

Valygar: "But of course."

Imoen: "Men."

Valygar: "Indeed."


Flash doesn't have a cape. Just the red suit... with the lightning bolt on the chest... and the silly mask with the lightning bolts above the ears. ;)

Bran: "Then you haven't been working with the Omegas that long.


Spectre: "Clearly."

Bran: "Once again, obviously an Omega rookie."


Cipher: "I'm sorry... I just didn't think it was too much to ask for the rest of my squad to be sane. Obviously, I was wrong." :)

Imoen: "Well, it's nice to see Harly acting her age."


Harlequin: "Yeah, well, I -am- younger than you... or did we forget that?"

(Mutters) "Old bag..."

-----

:shock:

Imoen: "Well, if the Comp-U-Boo did them, there's actually a chance everyone isn't going to die. A slight chance."


Actually, the chances are pretty good. Boo knows numbers. ;)

Imoen: "Because Harly, most people don't have the intelligence of cottage cheese."


Harlequin: "Well, you- Uh... no... no, too easy."

Minsc: "Unless you drop them on Evil! Or plant many explosives on them!"


(Snicker) Explosive magnets? Um... okaaaaaay. ;)

Its the little touches like this that keep Harly human.


;)

Oh dear god.

This poor officer's name was Buster, wasn't it?


:)

Well, in case any Dominion troopers were looking for you, they've found you now!

Dominion Grunt 1: "Eh! What was that?"

Dominion Grunt 2: "Either something big crashing or my johnson hitting the deck again! Har Har Har!"

Dominion Sergeant: "Shut up you worthless goblinhumpers! We've got Confed troops to kill! Follow me!"


I like that sequence. Especially the "goblinhumpers" insult. That's cute.

Now just fix the damn numerals.


(Grumble) Already done. Leave me alone. ;) :)

#12 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 24 September 2005 - 03:42 PM

I'm afraid that my memory is a bit rusty, but somehow I had thought that the whole thing that led to Khalid's death happened years ago, didn't it?


Not exactly, no.


18 Flamerule, FY 2257 (Operation Lone Fox - Athkatla Station)


2 Alturiak, FY 2258 (Operation Pandora Trigger; Omega – Main)


(And, yes, technically, for timeline purposes, the main Omega plotline is referred to as "Operation Pandora Trigger" (Shrug) )


So, no, only a couple of months, really.


And, just in case you were curious:


4 Flamerule, FY 2258 (Operation Ghost Dance - Generis)


8 Tarsakh, FY 2256 (Operation Zero Gambit – Brynnlaw V)


Actually... now I remember why I thought Khalid was dead long time ago - because he didn't feature in Zero Gambit and you yourself told me that he had been already captured and executed at that point.

See here, in the comments below the story: http://www.gamejag.n...ewtopic&t=76118

Um, sorry... :twisted:

#13 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 26 September 2005 - 05:01 AM

Actually... now I remember why I thought Khalid was dead long time ago - because he didn't feature in Zero Gambit and you yourself told me that he had been already captured and executed at that point.


No, you're right. I did say that. Thing is, I've been trying to tie up some loose ends and work in some more recent ideas... so I've had to do a little bit of "retcon" work.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Retcon (In case the term isn't familiar)

Though, technically, since that was mentioned in a comment and not in an actual "canon" piece, I can kinda throw that out the window if I need to... and I need to. :twisted:

So, yeah, the dates I posted up above, are, hopefully, the "correct ones." As best as I can tell, they don't conflict with anything already established by the various stories, chapters, etc. I've posted.

Cripes, though... I'm having a hard time keeping this all straight. No wonder comic book writers have so much trouble. Got a series that's been running for fifty plus years that's gone through dozens of different writing and illustration teams... how they manage, I have no idea.

#14 Guest_Userunfriendly_*

Posted 26 September 2005 - 09:32 AM

Alpha, your license for Latin has been revoked. The reason being, in Roman numerals, the number 40 is displayed as XL. Much like this year's Super Bowl.


Ah, f#@*. You're right. I hate making stupid mistakes like that. Screw it. I'm f#$*ing changing over to regular numerals. Damn it.


Actually I think that the romans themselves would have used XXXX...the use of XL is fairly recent, I think...I remember reading that somewhere...

Notemeal and Pecan Crunch:


with toffee?

1. No, I haven't forced my way past the block yet. (Sigh) Instead, I've just been wasting time and energy expanding the sequences leading up to the area that I'm blocked at. Stalling for time, as it were. Blecch. Well, here's some of what those labors have wrought. ;)


sometimes that's the way to get past a block.

But hey, UU helped with the idea, so you can blame him, too. :D


yeah, i get blamed for a lot... :twisted:

Promptly responding to the shouted warning, Jaheira threw herself forward and out of the way of the man-hack making for the back of her neck. The whirling blades hummed with lethal intent as they nearly took a chunk out of her combat helmet. The desperate movement, however, gave Falynn the clean shot she needed. A single, crimson-tinted laser bolt lashed out from the M-16 assault rifle, vaporizing a good-sized lump of the metal and ceramic that comprised the small attack drone. It crashed to the ground with the tortured whine of broken gears.


I can just imagine about a thousand of them unleashed into an advancing brigade... :shock: ;) ;) (and wagner playing in the background..."ride of the valkayries" :) )

Omega One shrugged, taking the genuine expression of gratitude, flipping it on its head, and transmogrifying it into something sardonic – an action perfectly in line with her rather mocking worldview. “Eh, don’t thank me. Just looking out for my own best interests. You know how many reports I’d have to file if you got yourself killed?”


jaheira: fifty eight...

lynn: sixty four...they added some more... ;)

She and Falynn had known each other for years, and yet their relationship had always been somewhat… distant… sometimes even standoffish. Both women had simply chalked it up to a mild clash of personalities and had left it at that. After all, one of them was a strict disciplinarian, serious, stern and largely unforgiving, and the other was… well… clearly mentally unbalanced.


we all understand that jaheira is actually lynn's and imoen's keeper... ;)

She wasn’t convinced. Things were different this time… something was… wrong… and the way in which Falynn had seemingly begun to push everyone away was just one indication of that. Even Imoen was being held mostly at arm’s length, it seemed, and the very idea of that was frightening, as the two sisters had been quite inseparable their entire lives. Jaheira stood in silence for a few moments, watching as Falynn ran her fingertips across the edges of the security door they’d just sealed shut behind them. “Falynn?”


she got her face rubbed into just how mortal and fragile her life is...no one really likes that...

“You said you wanted some time to think,” the half-elf replied, obstinately refusing to let the matter drop without obtaining the response she’d come for. “Well, I had some time to think myself, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve come to.”


lynn: friends are the way to save on therepist fees...

jaheira: as long as you TALK to them...

“Jaheira, what you’re asking, that’s like me stopping to reflect on my life and all the various decisions I’ve made therein, while on my way to use the head… in other words, I don’t really do it.”


she's not good at it at all...

The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”


all good leaders go through that...it's surviving that moment, and figuring out they'd rather take that burden on themselves than trusting a STRANGER, probably less qualified with his or her troop that keeps you there...

“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”


running away...

Valygar affirmed Nalia’s comment. “Sentry guns are very bad.”


imoen gorionova: sentry guns with heat and motion detectors are the worst...

Nalia interjected. “But the IFF systems are clearly off-line. I’ve been broadcasting our Confed ID signatures and those things still shot at us.”


oh oh...if the orcs are smart, they've been detecting the broadcasts, so they know exactly where they are...

She sighed, her excitement at finding “the answer” suddenly evaporating as she considered the implications of her realization. “Wait a second… let me guess, we’re talking really limited range on those transmitters, meaning we’d almost have to be right on top of those turrets to activate the failsafes.”


ultra high frequency radio packet...squeezes in a huge amount of data in short time, perfect for encrypted passkeys, and very short range...

She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.


:)

“It’s either that or we’ll all need to learn how to run faster than a laser blast.”


jessie: i can run fast, i can outrun some 20th century motorcycles, but not that fast... :shock:

Valygar Corthala folded down the collapsible bipod that was attached to the bottom of his rifle muzzle. The two metal legs looked flimsy, but were well capable of supporting the weight of the heavy Gauss weapon, and the immense recoil it generated whenever it fired. He made a few adjustments to the rifle’s sighting mechanisms, then pulled his eye away from the scope and looked up. “I’d like to go on the record as saying this is, by far, the single most idiotic idea I have ever heard.”


corpse: yep...

At the other end of the cable, Nalia de’Arnisse was busy attaching the high-tensile strength line to a magnetic grapple. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”


;)

“Well, seeing as how Falynn isn’t here at the moment, Jan and I are the closest things to physicists we’ve got… and this is what we came up with. You don’t like it, you’re perfectly free to try building your own low-budget, oversized, overpowered and unnecessarily complicated rig. But this one’s ours. So there.” Saliva flew from her mouth as she let loose with an extra-long raspberry.


Imoen Savage? Valygar Hyneman?

Imoen smiled sheepishly and corrected herself. “Excuse me. I had Boo do the calculations, and as best as we can tell, this -should- work… er…” she winced. “… in theory.”


trust boo...always trust boo...

Nalia pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Oh, my dear Deneir… we’re going to die, aren’t we?”


yes.

She winked and snickered. “Because there’s no one else -to- trust. I have a monopoly on a certain commodity – namely, people available to be trusted, whether deserving or not – and boy howdy, you’d better believe I’m going to exploit it. Ain’t capitalism grand?”


;)

“And people at the university I attended told me I was crazy for talking like a socialist.”


i can believe nalia dabbled with socialism...ever played the arnel nalia romance mod? she sounds like a card carrying communist in that mod...

The Sergeant’s aim was true, and the emergency cable holding the elevator in place (the standard, primary anti-gravity motivator units had taken extensive damage and were no longer operational) snapped. The lift-car dropped like a stone, pulling with it the magnetic grapple attached inside, the cable attached to the grapple, and the… object attached to the cable…


good thing it didn't have backup friction brakes...

The Omegas had threaded the cable through a makeshift rig whose main feature was a heavy duty, industrial strength hydraulic cutter. With a mere flip of a switch, Minsc was able to sever the cable connecting the plummeting grapple to the dead Confed security officer. The friction between the body and the floor it was sliding across did the rest, the corpse coming to a stop right on target… or, at least close enough to it. The elevator car hitting the bottom of the shaft sent dust and grit billowing up through the shaft, and knocked Nalia off her feet. She slammed her shoulder against a nearby wall and collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. But other than that, the whole “bowling incident” hadn’t been a complete disaster.


that bothers me..why not use a small radio detonated charge? milspec should take the rough treatment...and it would be a lot more secure than a rigged up radio controlled cutter... ;)

Imoen blew a stray bang out of her eyes. “Listen, if we die, I promise I’ll let you know.”


:) :) :) it worked! I still like my original idea of bowling with the head... ;) ;) ;)

#15 Weyoun

Posted 26 September 2005 - 10:49 AM

3. Watch out for the "bombshell" at the end of the first section. :twisted:


Uh, kaboom?

5. Just for the record, I -did- catch the Mythbusters' "Elevator of Death" episode... the bit at the end is somewhat inspired by that... even if it's flat-out wrong from a technical standpoint. :)


I wonder how that myth was created? Jumping up and down in a falling elevator sounds like something only someone really desparate would think of. :)

Vixen prodded the pile of debris with her toe. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, then turned towards Falynn. “Thank you.”


Omega One shrugged, taking the genuine expression of gratitude, flipping it on its head, and transmogrifying it into something sardonic – an action perfectly in line with her rather mocking worldview. “Eh, don’t thank me. Just looking out for my own best interests. You know how many reports I’d have to file if you got yourself killed?”


Yeah, that would be almost as annoying as having Randy Newman singing in the messhall.

Jaheira couldn’t help herself, though, to her credit, she didn’t laugh… or even smile. “Eight…” she replied.


Pffft... Miss know-it-all. :shock:

“Jaheira, what you’re asking, that’s like me stopping to reflect on my life and all the various decisions I’ve made therein, while on my way to use the head… in other words, I don’t really do it.”


“Humor me.”


“Now?”


“Yes, now!” She felt like a terrier that had latched on to someone’s arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how much they squirmed, or how hard they fought back.


Well, you could always tickle it off. :shock:

“Sentry guns are bad.”


Valygar affirmed Nalia’s comment. “Sentry guns are very bad.”


They don't work very well against Aliens either. ;)

Nalia interjected. “But the IFF systems are clearly off-line. I’ve been broadcasting our Confed ID signatures and those things still shot at us.”


Snafu in the making, I guess.

“It’s either that or we’ll all need to learn how to run faster than a laser blast.”


That sounds like a plausible 'famous last words' entry. ;)

Imoen smiled sheepishly and corrected herself. “Excuse me. I had Boo do the calculations, and as best as we can tell, this -should- work… er…” she winced. “… in theory.”


In theory, Elephants can fly... Or for at least the time it takes for them to fall off a cliff, I mean. :)

“And people at the university I attended told me I was crazy for talking like a socialist.”


Oy, what's wrong with that? :)

Imoen knelt down beside the dead Confed soldier and whispered a few words that the rest of the team couldn’t hear.


Giving Buster some words of encouragement. :)


Several dozen pounds per square inch of compressed air was suddenly released, causing an effect somewhat akin to “explosive decompression.” The abrupt expansion of the compressed gasses forced the projectile out of the magna-caster’s barrel, and sent it flying towards its intended target at high speed. Attached to the rear of the magnet-tipped harpoon was several dozen feet of cable – thin, but with a tensile strength sufficiently high enough for these purposes. The harpoon thudded against the inside of a stuck elevator lift-car and stuck fast against the wall, the metal haft quivering slightly from the force of the impact.


Cool...

Nalia reached out and took hold of Minsc’s hand as he helped her back to her feet. She had both eyes closed, and slowly opened them, squinting down towards the other end of the hallway, through all the dust and smoke. She coughed. “Are we dead yet?”


“No.”


“Are you sure we’re not dead yet?”


Imoen blew a stray bang out of her eyes. “Listen, if we die, I promise I’ll let you know.”


LOL! Well done!
TnT Enhanced Edition: http://www.fanfictio...rds-and-Tempers

---
Sith Warrior - Master, I can sense your anger.

Darth Baras - A blind, comotose lobotomy-patient could sense my anger!

---

"The New Age? It's just the old age stuck in a microwave oven for fifteen seconds" - James Randi

#16 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 27 September 2005 - 05:10 AM

with toffee?


Sure, why not? Though I don't know many people that put toffee into their granola bars. ;)

sometimes that's the way to get past a block.


Maybe, maybe not. Wouldn't know. Not past it yet. ;)

yeah, i get blamed for a lot...


That's because you're usually responsible. ;)

"ride of the valkayries"


"Flight of the Valkyries..." I used to get that one wrong, too.

we all understand that jaheira is actually lynn's and imoen's keeper...


Sure seems that way, yeah.

lynn: friends are the way to save on therepist fees...

jaheira: as long as you TALK to them...


:twisted: Jaheira brings up quite a good point there, doesn't she?

all good leaders go through that...it's surviving that moment, and figuring out they'd rather take that burden on themselves than trusting a STRANGER, probably less qualified with his or her troop that keeps you there...


That's basically it, yeah. She's having a little crisis of faith at the moment, but she'll get over it, eventually. She has to. Obviously, though, that's one of the things that's keeping me busy... trying to figure out just -how- she gets over it.

jessie: i can run fast, i can outrun some 20th century motorcycles, but not that fast...


Dude, even the Flash couldn't run that fast...

Imoen Savage? Valygar Hyneman?


Shouldn't we make Imoen into Kari? And maybe Jan into Grant? ;)

i can believe nalia dabbled with socialism...ever played the arnel nalia romance mod? she sounds like a card carrying communist in that mod...


Heard about it, but I don't really play mods, remember?

good thing it didn't have backup friction brakes...


That's part of what I meant when I said I saw the Mythbusters episode, but still did some silly stuff, anyway. Like they were saying in the show, most elevators have all kinds of redundant safety mechanisms, like friction brakes and a series of counterweights, so even if the main lift cables get severed, the things won't plummet.

that bothers me..why not use a small radio detonated charge? milspec should take the rough treatment...and it would be a lot more secure than a rigged up radio controlled cutter...


Because I didn't think of it, that's why. (Sigh)

I still like my original idea of bowling with the head...


I'm sure... but yeah, that -is- why the chapter is called "Bowling..." ;)

#17 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 27 September 2005 - 05:15 AM

I wonder how that myth was created? Jumping up and down in a falling elevator sounds like something only someone really desparate would think of.


I'm pretty sure they also mentioned the origins of the myth when they dissected it on the show. (Mythbusters, that is) I just don't really remember it. I vaguely remember them saying that there was this awful elevator failure like back in the 30s or something, and that someone miraculously survived... they explained it later by saying something about how the elevator shaft was very narrow and so the thing that kept the car from hitting the ground all that hard was actually air pressure from air that couldn't escape from underneath the falling car fast enough. That's all I remember, though.

Yeah, that would be almost as annoying as having Randy Newman singing in the messhall.


"Reaching for an apple... gonna take a bite... nope... she's gonna blow on it foist... wipe it on her blouse..."

:twisted:

Pffft... Miss know-it-all.


Oh, come on... she could have been all smug about it, but she wasn't. ;)

Well, you could always tickle it off.


Given how many girls are in this squad, yeah, you'd expect a tickle fight or something at some point... haven't gotten around to it, yet. ;)

They don't work very well against Aliens either.


Not as well as flamethrowers do, anyway.

Oy, what's wrong with that?


Nothing... except... you know, you sound like a socialist... ;) ;)

Giving Buster some words of encouragement.


Well, no... praying for the dead, actually... but... eh... I guess they could be the same thing. ;)

Cool...


Harpoon guns -are- cool, all right. Mmmmmm. ;)

#18 Laufey

Posted 27 September 2005 - 08:18 PM

Jaheira had to stop and laugh at that one (In her head, not out loud). There were times when even her own mind wouldn’t allow her to give Falynn a fair shake. The truth, however, was that, even in the beginning, when there seemed to be nothing between them but arguments waiting to happen, there had still always been a sense of mutual (if grudging) respect there. That, along with their friendship in general, had only grown stronger over the years, even if neither seemed willing to admit it out loud… though that didn’t necessarily mean that the frequency of their butting heads, in any way decreased.


Given the almost antithetical nature of their individualities, a few incidences of flared tempers were to be expected. Still, after all they’d been through together, what were a few harsh words and glib comments every now and again?


Right?


Mmm, yes, that's just it. I think Theo had it right when he said that it seems Jaheira longs for their friendship to be closer than it is at this time. And I think that probably Lynn wants that too, but doesn't quite know how to go about it.


Jaheira realized that for what it was: a stall/diversion tactic. Had circumstances been different, she would almost have smiled at Falynn’s temerity when it came to avoiding significant, meaningful discussion. “You’re correct. Normally, I would agree with what you’ve just said… but given our current situation, I’m not entirely certain we’ll even have another opportunity… besides, it’s a simple question.”


But not one with a simple answer. Sometimes, even when you trust somebody, you just can't bring yourself to talk to them about what bothers you, because it's just too painful.


“Yes, now!” She felt like a terrier that had latched on to someone’s arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how much they squirmed, or how hard they fought back.


Jaheira means well here, I know it, but I also know that in Lynn's place I'd be terribly annoyed right now, because I really hate it when somebody is trying to push me to discuss my emotions.


The words came out of her in a rush, like a dam springing a leak that widened until the entire structure finally burst. “About everything. About how I can’t do my job, anymore… about how I’ve become a liability to this squad instead of an asset… about how I don’t have what it takes to send you guys off to get killed for the sake of a mission. Maybe you’re right about all that. Maybe I just can’t hack it, anymore. Maybe I just shouldn’t be here…”


“I never said that… I never even thought-“


No matter what she said way back, I'm sure she didn't mean it in that way.


“I wasn’t finished. See, the thing is, if you’re right, then we… well, I guess I, have a problem, and I have to do something about it, don’t I? And, there’s only one thing I can think of that might be able to fix this… I’m putting in for a transfer.”


“You’re what?!”


Oh gods...poor Lynn, she's really seeing everything in black. :twisted:


Imoen snapped her fingers, suddenly catching on to Valygar’s train of thought. “Or even in a subdermal implant?”


“Exactly.”


Oooh, I missed this part on first read. *Now* I get it. ;) Should teach me not to read technical stuff when I'm tired. :roll:


She poked her tongue out at him. “Oh, no… not at all… it’s perfectly normal. Why, cadaver-carrying is one of my favorite pastimes. Back when we were kids living in Candlekeep, Lynn and I used to lug dead people to and from the ol’ swimmin’ hole all the time. Seriously. I’m totally proud to be a part of this.” Ironic mockery seemed to ooze out of every single cell in her body.


:twisted:


“Well, seeing as how Falynn isn’t here at the moment, Jan and I are the closest things to physicists we’ve got… and this is what we came up with. You don’t like it, you’re perfectly free to try building your own low-budget, oversized, overpowered and unnecessarily complicated rig. But this one’s ours. So there.” Saliva flew from her mouth as she let loose with an extra-long raspberry.


Valygar rolled his eyes and sighed. “I believe the overall maturity level in this room just sank to a negative value.”


Undoubtedly!


The Omegas had threaded the cable through a makeshift rig whose main feature was a heavy duty, industrial strength hydraulic cutter. With a mere flip of a switch, Minsc was able to sever the cable connecting the plummeting grapple to the dead Confed security officer. The friction between the body and the floor it was sliding across did the rest, the corpse coming to a stop right on target… or, at least close enough to it. The elevator car hitting the bottom of the shaft sent dust and grit billowing up through the shaft, and knocked Nalia off her feet. She slammed her shoulder against a nearby wall and collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. But other than that, the whole “bowling incident” hadn’t been a complete disaster.


Niiiice! ;) I haven't yet seen the Mythbuster episode in question, I'll have to look out for it.
Rogues do it from behind.

#19 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 28 September 2005 - 01:24 AM

Mmm, yes, that's just it. I think Theo had it right when he said that it seems Jaheira longs for their friendship to be closer than it is at this time. And I think that probably Lynn wants that too, but doesn't quite know how to go about it.


Basically. You have to admit, it's not all that often when friends actually sit down and talk about what makes them friends. In my experience, you're friends with someone, and that's about all you need to know. No need to analyze just why you're close in the first place.

But when you wonder why you're not as close as you'd expected to be, then that starts to get worrying. The way I see it, yeah, both of them are a little confused as to why things still occasionally get so awkward between them.

But not one with a simple answer. Sometimes, even when you trust somebody, you just can't bring yourself to talk to them about what bothers you, because it's just too painful.


Or, because even though you trust them, you're not entirely sure how they'll react to something, and the idea of them not reacting in a positive manner is just too frightening to deal with.

Jaheira means well here, I know it, but I also know that in Lynn's place I'd be terribly annoyed right now, because I really hate it when somebody is trying to push me to discuss my emotions.


Yep. Hit the nail on the head. It also doesn't help if you're not the type who tends to be very open about their emotions. If you're not the touchy-feely sort, this isn't a very easy conversation to be having.

Should teach me not to read technical stuff when I'm tired.


C'mon... the technical stuff can't be all -that- bad... I mean, can't be much worse than memorizing Gray's Anatomy or whatever they make docs do in med school. :twisted:

I haven't yet seen the Mythbuster episode in question, I'll have to look out for it.


It's an older one. They tested the myth of whether it's possible to survive a falling elevator by jumping just before you hit bottom. They set Buster up with a rig to make him "jump", but all it did was making him hit the ceiling of the elevator a little faster. Whoops. :twisted:

#20 Laufey

Posted 28 September 2005 - 04:21 AM

But not one with a simple answer. Sometimes, even when you trust somebody, you just can't bring yourself to talk to them about what bothers you, because it's just too painful.


Or, because even though you trust them, you're not entirely sure how they'll react to something, and the idea of them not reacting in a positive manner is just too frightening to deal with.


Oh yes, absolutely.


C'mon... the technical stuff can't be all -that- bad... I mean, can't be much worse than memorizing Gray's Anatomy or whatever they make docs do in med school. :roll:


Oh, it's not *bad* at all, it's just a matter of how my brain works, so don't worry about it.

I haven't yet seen the Mythbuster episode in question, I'll have to look out for it.


It's an older one. They tested the myth of whether it's possible to survive a falling elevator by jumping just before you hit bottom. They set Buster up with a rig to make him "jump", but all it did was making him hit the ceiling of the elevator a little faster. Whoops. :twisted:


Poor Buster. :twisted:
Rogues do it from behind.




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