Airlocke

Airlocke frowns for a second. "This is doable, but.....if stealth is important, I don't see why the big is coming along." He sizes him up for a second, then shrugs. "Anyway, stealth is a bit of a specialty of mine, but I'm not great with electronics." He looks to the smallish man. "I'm going to say that is your strength. You certainly don't seem fit for much else." He laughs.

Airlocke shakes his head at the troll. "Alright then. Just don't get greedy." He glowers at the smallish human. "I hope you are agreeable as this monstrous fella here?" When fixit comes in turns his attention away from the other two. "No problem at all. After all, you calling us means money. That is something we all need." He offers a genuine smile. "So, what's the job?"

Airlocke walks into the room and again a faint smile touches his lips, as the smallish human mistook the troll for Fixit. "Where's fixit? And who the hell are you two?" He allows a bit of menace to crawl into his already intimidating voice. When they had come for him that night, one of the punks had gotten into throat. HE'd never spoken properly since. "Don't tell me you're cutting in on my check?" He raises one eyebrow.

Airlocke smiled slightly as he saw the troll approach the backroom, but stayed where he sat. He wouldn't enter the room until precisely 11:00. He liked to be the last to enter a meeting. He sipped at his drink and waited lazily for the clock to strike 11, then walked to the back room at a leisurely pace. No need to rush.

Jackson Talbot. A name from another era. One from before the world destroyed itself. Jackson liked to try to live up to that name, to be the way he thought people were before the world became the wasteland it is now. He was chivalrous and polite. Funny and upbeat. Innocent and pure. But then his master had died, a senseless, cruel death. It took a bit out of him, to lose someone so close. His bouncy gate lost half a step. The corners of his lips stopped just short of a smile. He was still Jackson Talbot, still upbeat and funny, just less innocent. Things went fairly well for the next few years, with Jackson building up a bit of a reputation for being able to complete whatever lowly mission he had been assigned, and never once complaining about not getting paid extra when it turned out the job was more complicated than originally thought. He was a sought after hire for a while. He became lavishly wealthy, and picked up a few cool looking scars in the process. Then the unthinkable happened. He failed. And he failed the wrong man. They came in the night to destroy him, but they had underestimated his will to survive. He escaped and changed his name, abandoned his old life completely. He was now only known as Airlocke. This morning he had gotten a call from a trusted contact about a job. Those didn't come nearly as often as they should, so he found himself standing outside of a seedy looking tavern, looking around carefully and taking note of anyone hanging around the place. He walks in and orders a drink. The women gaze upon the big, handsome man, hardened by age and near constant danger. He couldn't care less, and pays them no attention. He sits down at a table by himself and scans the bar, looking for anything suspicious.

I'm sorry I had you set this up for nothing. I didn't realize how time consuming translating girlspeak to guyspeak was. The two languages seeeem compatible, but aren't even close.

You're being optimistic. I give it 16 hours from this point.

I once had a dual that was a gay rights activist.

I hope you do not mind, Jason. I made you message a little more understandable, for the benefit of the other members. Now, to reply to your utter idiocy. Yes, if the delta flier could knock out the bridge, and thus the shield controls, they should be able to beam a few photons into the engine room. Assuming they can locate the main engine room with their sensors. This is actually a very sound strategy. But I think I might have missed something. When and how did the Delta flier destroy the bridge in this scenario? If I were to draw parralells to your A-wing reference, then I assume that it destroyed the bridge by somehow getting through the shields and crashing into it? If it destroyed itself in order to take out the bridge, then how did it beam in the photon torpedoes?

*takes quick look at newest argument* ...... *shoots self in brain*

Enigma, he was calling you gay.

nope

Wait.....so he made them all jagged?

Did they just get tired of wearing the spandex, then?

Most people would call this, COMMITTING SUICIDE. No es bueno. Someone has to clean that shit up, you know.

HAHA! I forgot about Picard's awful jackets. Anybody know why he started to wear those? How could that be considered acceptable military dress?

Since Jason decided it was true. Duh.

lol

Praeothmin, I keep meaning to write a bio and make a post, but I never get around to it. Prolly because I never read enough about the system. Eventually, I promise.

To post a thread on the new server! HAHA!

I'm....not sure we really want to consider the long term affects of this madness. It might just kill us all.

Nah. Totally not necessary. Besides, believe it or not, I am a nice guy.

I have a feeling that that would have been in play had I pushed hard enough. *shrugs* Hardly matters now.

Yeah. She changed that about 20 minutes or so after she sent me the "your not for me" message. And still swears that the other guy had nothing to do with it. That she would have let me go anyway. Also, number one on the list, after only three weeks of being my friend. *shakes head* Isn't that a bit silly?

Ohhhhhhh yeeeeeeeeeeah. But so does Enigma. So there. lol Also, did you see my followers thing on Facebook? Look at number one.