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One Hell of a Ride [WIP]

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One Hell of a Ride [WIP]
Offline Komitoza
06-12-2017, 06:22 PM, (This post was last modified: 08-11-2017, 03:05 AM by Komitoza.)
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Posts: 1,282
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Joined: Apr 2015

I remember it like it was yesterday, fresh out of highschool, three years of freshness fam. I just got my advanced flight certificate, simply looking for work on the net. A guy like me needs to fund his little alcohol addiction somehow, and I was always keen on doing my best to support the family ever since dad died due to his addiction, so I had to pick up the phase instead of lying around all day waiting to get evicted. Though at the time, most of the work flooding the market was trade deals and cargo runs, given it doesn't really require a lot of experience to get from point A to point B. After a few days of searching I found something that caught my interest. A supply convoy for the Navy, an unconventional type of Light Arms to be transported from Barrier Gate into New York.

Skipping through all the boring parts, I eventually found myself in Coronado. Don't ask how I got there. I was on the personnel exits of the mooring fixture, talking over the deal with my employer while the other guy I was supposed to fly with was already loading up. The boss seemed quite shady, suit, sunglasses and a silver chain. Top gangster. Now if I recall corectly his name was Max Kuruso.. while the other guy with his distinctive neck scar and eyepatch also wasn't giving off a real positive vibe. He even said that he will be joining in on one of the transports, which is weird to me given that he is the employer, but at the same time I thought.. money is money, so I shouldn't overthink it as much.

So eventually, we lifted off. My first time flying a ship other than the shuttle, and ofcourse the academy Hawk. It was an older model of the Series DL transport. Pretty bulky, but surprisingly maneuverable. I had direct orders to keep comm silence, which was kinda killing me as at the time I was a pretty talkative guy. It helps pass the time pretty efficiently you know. After passing through Cortez and California, the waypoint route keeping its fair distance off the lanes, my brain had slowly started to pull all the pieces together. Now the only thought in my mind was to finish this as soon as possible so I don't get in trouble, but it seems like it was too late for that. I've received coordinates leading straight into the very depths of the badlands.

The closer we got to the mysterious purple cloud, the more anxious I was getting. The Navy patrols that area quite often, it's something everyone should know. My mind cut out, I started to panic immediately hitting reverse, trying to gain as much distance as possible. My companion and employer were worried, so the boss had opened comms to me asking whats the big deal. Blaming it on equipment failiure, it bought me just enough time to open comms to the nearest Naval patrol, I was basically ready to do just about anything at the point. The two transports ahead had opened fire without any warning, though being barely out of range thanks to my improvisation. Turning towards the lanes, abusing the thruster to max capacity, I returned fire. The lock-on systems weren't something to rely on, but my panic aim was nothing to be reckoned with. I barely managed to de-course one of them as my transport was about to get a new hole poked innit, but thankfully the patrol caught up just in time, so we were swiftly taken into custody.

Again to make things quicker, in the end all charges on me were dropped on the basis that I wasn't aware of what kind of work it was in the first place, and I was sent back to Los Angeles being registered there and all. But left as broke as I was when I started.

With no place to stay, and my rent way overdue, it seems it was time to go back to the roots and crash at my mothers place. As the prison liner, inconveniently enough dropped me off, the feeling of nostalgia had kicked in almost immediately. Back in the works, the projects, the place where I grew up. So many memories. It was a long walk there though, and the feeling was not complete until I stepped into my old neighbourhood The smell of cheap weed and bullet holes were something I fondly remember for some reason. It was never boring to simply sit down and watch through the window at night, if you know what I mean.

The old door to my house got replaced, which would be nice if it hadn't confused me to the point I made three laps around the block until figuring it out. Knock knock, the door is stormed open a second later. My mother, aware about what happened and of my coming, had been waiting for me. The smile she had was heartwarming, I haven't visited old moms in a long while.. actually ever since I left to attend highschool at Manhatten years ago. But, even in such a moment, it was rather unusual to see her like this, and I'm talking about the fact that there are no bruises on her face and the hallway is not covered in glass. After coming in, I had to ask what was bringing up the mood so much. Her immediate response was that pops has died.

Now, to some it might seem strange, but my dad was an addict. And given how good hearted my mom is, she really wanted to help him, which brought a lot of mayhem upon the household. But even she has her limits. He really was one of the reasons I left for New York as soon as opportunity arose.

I didn't get the time to even take off my shoes as something had hit me, I got a raging urge to run into one specific room of the house, which was my sisters room. Interrupting her peace and quiet is something I took pride in. I literally stormed down the hallway in my somewhat dirty boots, a twenty year old man acting like a toddler. But it was stronger than me, though sadly I was dissappointed as the moment I walked in, Sarah wasn't there. Which was rather strange, I know for a fact that she doesn't enjoy leaving mother alone. Speaking of mother, she surprised me by touching my shoulder from behind. She had a rather serious look on her face, which meant that we need to talk.

Taking my shoes off first, I was escorted into the living room, and again surprised by the fact the whole house was so clean that it seemed like all of the furniture is brand new. Me and mother sat down, she was on the sofa, while I opted for my old favorite chair right across it. The first subject was Sarah, though there wasn't much to say. Even though our father was the way he was, sis had always been somehow really attached to him. And I can't say he didn't have his fatherly moments, so the fact that I was told she simply needed some time to think didn't surprise me. We went on with the conversation, changing from topic to topic as hours passed unnoticeable and night came. She suggested that I sleep in my old room, which surprisingly wasn't re-purposed, so I took the offer. Lying down, I thought about weather I'll get to see her tomorrow.

Morning came, and my sleep ended abruptly as I got smacked in the back of the head by someone, laughter filling the room as I rolled over in my bed to see who is about to get the beat down. I looked up through my sleeping eyes, and it took a few seconds for the full image to form.. but I saw a rather refreshing and familiar face. It was my best friend from the South Side, my man Jericho.. or as we called him Bonez. You can assume by that the man was pretty skinny. Compared to today oh boy wasn't he a whole lot different. Despite looking like an escaped convict he was probably one of the most skilled mechanics on the planet. The only problem that guy has is his twisted mind. He witnessed his father being murdered in a shop nearby at the age of sixteen, the two guys he owed money to were never found after that. I know it first hand because I helped him dispose of the bodies. Using a wrench as a weapon, you can only imagine the mess that was left behind.

"My man how ya' doing!" Jericho shouted, the whole block probably able to hear it given how bad my room was isolated. It took me a while to gather strength to even talk, I sat at the edge of the bed right next to him yawning at first. At that time I was still able to overpower him, so I tackled him down off the edge and onto the floor. It was our usual wake-up routine from back in the day, man the nostalgia kicking in hard again. "You damn well know how I am!" I told him through a grin, as even though we were apart for a long time we still kept tabs on eachother often.
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Messages In This Thread
One Hell of a Ride [WIP] - by Komitoza - 06-12-2017, 06:22 PM
RE: One Hell of a Ride [WIP] - by Komitoza - 07-02-2017, 02:43 AM
RE: One Hell of a Ride [WIP] - by Komitoza - 09-05-2017, 01:57 PM

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