Friday, 30 January 2015

1.7 Bounty Hunters Part 1

“We’re receiving another distress signal,” reports Janelle.

“Now what?” demands Sam.

“We’re got an oil platform malfunctioning,” says Janelle.

“Let’s go!” says Sam and he flies out of the ship.

I’m about to shout at him when Janelle starts speaking again.

“I just picked up another unusual signal not too far away,” says the AI, “It might what’s responsible for what’s happening to the oil platform.”

“Should we split up?” asks Vance.

I start to reply, but then we receive a call from the Dust Corsair.

“What’s going on?” asks Mia, “Lantern just flew out of your ship.”

“We’ve got two things to investigate,” I tell her, “A distress signal and an unknown signal. Lantern is already en route to the distress signal.”

“I’ll take the Dust Corsair and help him out,” says Mia.

“I’ll go out on my own and check out the other signal.”

“Take Darrac with you and Bolt and the Star Guardian can help with the distress signal,” says Mia, “The second signal might turn out to be nothing, but we know the first one is actually something.”

“True,” I muse, “Okay let’s do it.”

“Good,” says Mia and she cuts the signal.

“Janelle, you and Vance check out the distress signal,” I say as I get up and walk towards the open exit, “Darrac and I will check out the second signal.”

I jump out of the ship and activate the rocket pack. I’ve got 93% fuel left. Enough to last for at least two hours.

I turn to see Darrac exit his ship, a helmet now covering his face. He flies towards me using his wings.

“Follow me,” I tell him as the Dust Corsair and the Star Guardian begin to follow Sam.

I do a loop in the air and zoom off in the direction of the second signal. Darrac is barely keeping up.


Still if he can keep up with the latest version of the Sentinel suit, I can see why granddad and the other old Leaguers had trouble in the Invasion and I haven’t even seen him in combat.

“Whoa,” I say as the source of the signal comes into view.

A flying aircraft carrier. You have a fair few flying around these days, some private and some government. Personally I dislike them as they’re too easy to be damaged or taken out of action. As granddad said, one seems to fall out of the sky every other Thursday.

I land on the topside of the carrier. Several men and woman in work clothes are running about. Several people in power armour are coming topside from the carrier’s below decks.

“Are we welcome?” asks Darrac as he lands next to me.

“Don’t count on it,” I say back to him as the people in their work clothes scurry out of sight. 

Fourteen, maybe fifteen people in power armour are coming towards us.

This power armour is different to the Sentinel armour or the Bulk armour. Whereas the Sentinel armour fits around the wearer and is self-reliant for extended use, these suits also fit around the wearer, but are bulky and have a semi-external power source on the back. I also doubt the suits are as hi-tech and well-built as the Sentinel and Bulk armours are.

The armours are black with the armour plating being grey while the helmets have a wide purple faceplate.

Then I spot their leader. He’s also wearing the same type of armour as the others, but is gold and red. His face plate is black and a crimson cloak is attached to his back.

An American bounty hunter called Spartan who owns his own private army. Makes his fortune by hunting down supervillains for assorted folk.

And I have a large bounty on my head and Spartan has been known to take down heroes or neutrals when he can get away with it.

It is only as Spartan starts speaking that I realise that they’re all holding guns, large sleek rifles of some kind, and they are aimed at Darrac and I.

“So what do we have here,” says Spartan in a deep baritone voice as he strides towards us.

“Sentinel and associate,” I reply, glancing at Darrac.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” says Spartan, his emotions concealed by his armour, “We’re out in international waters and you got a massive bounty on your head. And we’re the ones who are going to collect it.”

Normally I might have tried talking my way out or negotiating with him, but Spartan and his people don’t seem to be willing to be reasonable with such a prize at stake. And I don’t know if Darrac will avoid a fight if I ask him to.

Spartan laughs and waves a hand at his power armoured warriors.

“We out number you eight to one,” says Spartan loudly, “I don’t care how good your armour is, you’re just a kid going up against the pros. And your pal won’t stand a chance either.”

There’s his first mistake. I’m actually much more skilled than Spartan if I do say so myself and you never treat a Sektain soldier as if they're anything other than a deadly threat.

“So grand and mighty Sentinel,” sniggers Spartan in a snide tone, “What’s it going to be?”

“Non-lethal force,” I tell Darrac.

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