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Author Topic: The Silk Road Act 1: Old Cairo  (Read 1305 times)

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Offline Dozus

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Re: The Silk Road Act 1: Old Cairo
« Reply #75 on: February 19, 2018, 09:23:00 PM »
“Receipt my share of the expenses. I’ll bill them to the client. But let’s save the beer until we finish. Work now, drink later, sim, cara?
« Last Edit: February 20, 2018, 11:48:50 AM by Dozus »
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Offline valadaar

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Re: The Silk Road Act 1: Old Cairo
« Reply #76 on: February 20, 2018, 10:16:59 AM »
Waiting for Tom and Jerry to finally climb aboard, along with his blast-bot. "Tom, don't bring that in the tank.."  Tom had been carrying the head of one of the thrill killers.  Tom was a bit of a kleptomaniac, picking up odd things from time to time.  Jerome had never spent the time tracking down that particular bug, but it was starting to get annoying..

"Captain Arjan, please proceed at your best speed.  LV - what the hell is your name anyway, you're up. We need those coordinates, and I'm only used to hacking bots. Don't @!#$ us over, and there'll be a share for you."   Again, Jerome was free with money, it usually paid off.  He also didn't say how big the share was.


 Holy @!#$, I could use a drink right now...


   
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Offline EchoMirage

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Re: The Silk Road Act 1: Old Cairo
« Reply #77 on: February 20, 2018, 10:43:55 AM »
"I'll be up on the observation deck. Gun post. Ride on, and put on some decent music please. There's no audio controls up there."
Up on the post, Blue added: "No control at all, cause f!ck control."
« Last Edit: February 20, 2018, 11:39:17 AM by EchoMirage »
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Re: The Silk Road Act 1: Old Cairo
« Reply #78 on: Yesterday at 11:30:34 AM »
Arjan cursed as she re calibrated the turbotank to account for the new weight, including the neo-samurai's leg suit.

The tank hummed along the sand, putting quick miles between the burning wreckage of a dropped civilian shuttle and a pall of green smoke. The raiders would be along shortly, and just the raiders. Anyone else would just call out and be picked up by an airship, and wouldnt be so crude as popping smoke for evac.

The sand gave way to to the edge of the salt pan. Not the main salt pan, but the outskirts. This used to be part of the Sea of Victoria, back when the air plant was running at nearly 100% output. The waste water it condensed out of the air was dumped into the old Lake Victoria and the water rose, and rose, and villages vanished, and a broad section of the steppe became marshland, then a great lake, and then, as the runoff continued, it kept growing. The air plant still ran, but nowhere near the full power it once did. It only ran enough to keep the sea full, full for the tourists in the Afrozone. The great African riviera was dotted with dozens of resorts, and heavy traffic in and out of the Kampala spaceport. But that was all on the south shore, with its engineered beaches, and glittering synthetic sand and biomechanical trees. But the north shore, so many miles away was different. The water beat against the yardangs and washed the debris of the resorts up on it's ruddy red shore. When those waters receded it left behind the salt pans.

The tank turned and ran along the coast, past the almost completely rusted away hulks of old construction ships, too damaged to salvage, not valuable enough to drag back. There could be pirates there, and Arjan barked out an order for the guns to be hot and eyes on deck, shot anything that moved, and if it still moved, shoot it again.

 
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