Edcrab
Veteran Incompetent
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- Aug 3, 2003
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Yeesh, I certainly took my time 
Anyway, here's the last part of chapter 5, hopefully my updates will become a bit more regular again...
“Stop them?”
“You know, stop the attacks?” Quarir peered over his shoulder as he power-walked back towards the observation building. “And don’t look at me like that! We can do this diplomatically. We don’t have to kill them-”
“I think we should bring Pyotr along,” Nuri mused, “a psychic might be useful if we’re going to be mediators…”
“If he’s not feeling right, we should just leave him be,” Quarir told her. “Besides, Vorts are only pseudo-psychic.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I… don’t know.”
“Wow, you’re a real fountain of Vortigaunt biology.”
“Hey, I know enough to know that dimension travel takes some readjusting for a hive mentality. Think about it! Part of their brain is in a different universe.”
“Well, they did come from Xen-”
“Yeah, but Xen’s what they call the Borderworld, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s the same… kind of distance… if you get me.”
“I think I do,” Nuri said slowly. “Can’t say I’m on expert on that.”
“Heh, join the club. I don’t think anyone is- hell, I don’t think the Combine even knew about Xen for ages, and they’re meant to be more advanced than the lot of us…”
“Mmm,” Nuri muttered noncommittally.
Nalore went quiet. Maybe touching on the Combine wasn’t such a smart move- at least until they had some confirmation as to whatever the hell was happening back on Earth.
Heh… Earth. What kind of unoriginal species called their home planet “ground” in their native language?
He felt Nuri’s elbow meeting his ribs. “Didn’t you say Security was after you?” she hissed.
Quarir nodded: a pair of armoured guards were calmly chatting near the end of the corridor. But the guards’ HUD sensors would have picked the two up long before they’d entered visual range, so as they weren’t levelling plasma pistols and barking commands Nalore assumed everything was fine.
He gestured to say as much, and once they’d walked past the duo of Security officers- which happened quickly and without incident- he turned back to her. “They’re just keeping an eye us- I think they only tried to move me on at the observation building because I was seeing things they didn’t want me to.” He glanced at a scanning unit on the wall above him. “But be careful what you say,” he added in an urgent whisper.
“Mmm,” she repeated, not exactly reassured by any of that.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey, and Quarir wasn’t sure whether she was just being careful or whether he’d irritated her again. Possibly a bit of both.
“We can talk in here,” he said, sitting himself down inside the tram. “The transit lines are dead signal zones.”
Nuri looked at him questioningly. “Why?”
“Bombs and stuff, I guess- probably a safety measure. Plus, these aren’t Domarian standard- I think we got one of the corps to build these, and they don’t like installing intranet sensors in their property.”
Nuri sighed inwardly. It was indicative of Quarir’s outgoing approach to life, but the way he assumed everyone had the same level of background knowledge as him really drove her to distraction at times. She just nodded as if she understood and took one of the transporter seats. “How long will this take?”
“Five minutes, if that. They’re pretty nippy for third-party tech.”
Nuri was about to ask what he meant by “pretty nippy” when the windows became a blitz of fuzz. The tram roared its way towards the other side of the facility, but despite the evident speed Nuri could barely sense it. She averted her gaze, already feeling uneasy.
“Uh oh,” said Quarir, a minute or two into the journey.
“Uh oh?” Nuri’s head darted upward. “What’s uh oh?”
“Nothing much,” Nalore swallowed, “it’s just that there’s a bunch of segs and a sed at the end of the line...”
“What?”
“It’s colonial slang!” he snapped, “Security guards and a Security drone. I think they’re waiting for me…”
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t think I want to meet these Monitoring Department types… transporter!” he shouted suddenly, “This is First Inspector Quarir Nalore, clearance level 25! Initiate emergency stop!”
Nothing happened. The tram was slowing down, but it was clearly just so it could safely dock with the observation building.
“This isn’t a Domarian tram, remember?” Nuri reminded him irritably.
“Yeah?” His expression hardened, and he pulled something out from his clothes. “Well this isn’t a Domarian gun…”
“You’re right,” said Nuri, “it’s a brandy flask.”
“Oh, wrong pocket.” He stowed it away hurriedly. “Wondered where that had gone. Right- this isn’t a Domarian gun!”
Quarir whipped out a chrome-plated pistol and fired into the floor twice- each time producing a torrent of sparks and unsteady noises from the tram’s mechanism.
“That would’ve been a much better line if you hadn’t fluffed it and used it to do something stupid!” Nuri snarled. “What are you trying to do?”
“I’m stopping the tram, that’s what! It’s not overkill, not if those Department heads want us locked up for questioning…”
“Tram has been damaged,” said a dull voice. “Initiating emergency stop.”
“See?” Quarir said triumphantly, lying prone under the bench, “it worked.”
“Bit abrupt,” Nuri brushed herself off. “Okay, what now, oh mighty tram stopper?”
“We jump out the door and go on foot, that’s what.”
“Through a freezing blizzard? For about a mile?”
“Yep.” Grinning, Quarir fastened up his heavy jacket. “I’m hoping they don’t want us enough to follow us in this weather.”
With the doors unlocked- obviously a precautionary measure of the emergency stop- Quarir had little difficulty in sliding them across manually. He steeled himself for the cold- but he still staggered when a gust of icy air hit him in the face, instantly coating him in snowflakes- using the handrail to fight against the winds, he pulled himself towards the door and dropped down.
Nuri shivered, did up her own coat- which didn’t look anywhere near as thick as Quarir’s- and leapt out after him.
They landed heavily. Or, more accurately, they would have if there hadn’t been a six-foot-deep snowdrift to break their fall. Nuri managed to pull herself out unaided, and had to chip some of the snow away with her boot so that Quarir could dislodge himself.
“You just kicked me in the face,” he said accusingly, but he grudgingly accepted her hand.
“Good,” she said breezily, helping him to stand up. “Now what?”
“We get in there,” Quarir said, nodding towards a shallow sconce in the wall as he rubbed his hands and shivered.
The dugout was barely two foot deep, and it was difficult to tell whether it had been carved into concrete or rock. But with the walls around them and the train track high above them, it certainly helped to keep the worst of the blizzard out.
Nuri wasn’t sure if the sconce was natural or not, but the fact that there was a fat, gurgling pipe above their heads implied that it was an intentional part of Frost Peak’s plans. The water pipe- or ineffable toxic fusion liquid for all she knew- radiated a pleasant aura of heat, and that suited her fine.
“How come you’ve got a gun, anyway?” she asked Quarir.
“I’ve had this thing for years- Maintonon confiscated it when he sent me to Earth, so I think he gave it back as a concession.”
“Oh, for good behaviour?”
“Something like that,” he muttered. He didn’t like the idea of being a pet dog, especially to a damn computer…
“Halt!”
Quarir was startled. “Oh… Security. Great.” He sighed. “Better go quietly- in that armour, those bastards can punch like Gef.”
Nuri didn’t bother asking what a Gef was, because the figures emerging from the snow looked unfamiliar. “I don’t think they’re Security guards, Quarir…”
Quarir blinked. They were wearing armour of a sort, and they were carrying weapons, but the badges on their arms weren’t etched with Security’s shield icon. They looked more like lambdas…
Anyway, here's the last part of chapter 5, hopefully my updates will become a bit more regular again...“Stop them?”
“You know, stop the attacks?” Quarir peered over his shoulder as he power-walked back towards the observation building. “And don’t look at me like that! We can do this diplomatically. We don’t have to kill them-”
“I think we should bring Pyotr along,” Nuri mused, “a psychic might be useful if we’re going to be mediators…”
“If he’s not feeling right, we should just leave him be,” Quarir told her. “Besides, Vorts are only pseudo-psychic.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I… don’t know.”
“Wow, you’re a real fountain of Vortigaunt biology.”
“Hey, I know enough to know that dimension travel takes some readjusting for a hive mentality. Think about it! Part of their brain is in a different universe.”
“Well, they did come from Xen-”
“Yeah, but Xen’s what they call the Borderworld, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s the same… kind of distance… if you get me.”
“I think I do,” Nuri said slowly. “Can’t say I’m on expert on that.”
“Heh, join the club. I don’t think anyone is- hell, I don’t think the Combine even knew about Xen for ages, and they’re meant to be more advanced than the lot of us…”
“Mmm,” Nuri muttered noncommittally.
Nalore went quiet. Maybe touching on the Combine wasn’t such a smart move- at least until they had some confirmation as to whatever the hell was happening back on Earth.
Heh… Earth. What kind of unoriginal species called their home planet “ground” in their native language?
He felt Nuri’s elbow meeting his ribs. “Didn’t you say Security was after you?” she hissed.
Quarir nodded: a pair of armoured guards were calmly chatting near the end of the corridor. But the guards’ HUD sensors would have picked the two up long before they’d entered visual range, so as they weren’t levelling plasma pistols and barking commands Nalore assumed everything was fine.
He gestured to say as much, and once they’d walked past the duo of Security officers- which happened quickly and without incident- he turned back to her. “They’re just keeping an eye us- I think they only tried to move me on at the observation building because I was seeing things they didn’t want me to.” He glanced at a scanning unit on the wall above him. “But be careful what you say,” he added in an urgent whisper.
“Mmm,” she repeated, not exactly reassured by any of that.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey, and Quarir wasn’t sure whether she was just being careful or whether he’d irritated her again. Possibly a bit of both.
“We can talk in here,” he said, sitting himself down inside the tram. “The transit lines are dead signal zones.”
Nuri looked at him questioningly. “Why?”
“Bombs and stuff, I guess- probably a safety measure. Plus, these aren’t Domarian standard- I think we got one of the corps to build these, and they don’t like installing intranet sensors in their property.”
Nuri sighed inwardly. It was indicative of Quarir’s outgoing approach to life, but the way he assumed everyone had the same level of background knowledge as him really drove her to distraction at times. She just nodded as if she understood and took one of the transporter seats. “How long will this take?”
“Five minutes, if that. They’re pretty nippy for third-party tech.”
Nuri was about to ask what he meant by “pretty nippy” when the windows became a blitz of fuzz. The tram roared its way towards the other side of the facility, but despite the evident speed Nuri could barely sense it. She averted her gaze, already feeling uneasy.
“Uh oh,” said Quarir, a minute or two into the journey.
“Uh oh?” Nuri’s head darted upward. “What’s uh oh?”
“Nothing much,” Nalore swallowed, “it’s just that there’s a bunch of segs and a sed at the end of the line...”
“What?”
“It’s colonial slang!” he snapped, “Security guards and a Security drone. I think they’re waiting for me…”
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t think I want to meet these Monitoring Department types… transporter!” he shouted suddenly, “This is First Inspector Quarir Nalore, clearance level 25! Initiate emergency stop!”
Nothing happened. The tram was slowing down, but it was clearly just so it could safely dock with the observation building.
“This isn’t a Domarian tram, remember?” Nuri reminded him irritably.
“Yeah?” His expression hardened, and he pulled something out from his clothes. “Well this isn’t a Domarian gun…”
“You’re right,” said Nuri, “it’s a brandy flask.”
“Oh, wrong pocket.” He stowed it away hurriedly. “Wondered where that had gone. Right- this isn’t a Domarian gun!”
Quarir whipped out a chrome-plated pistol and fired into the floor twice- each time producing a torrent of sparks and unsteady noises from the tram’s mechanism.
“That would’ve been a much better line if you hadn’t fluffed it and used it to do something stupid!” Nuri snarled. “What are you trying to do?”
“I’m stopping the tram, that’s what! It’s not overkill, not if those Department heads want us locked up for questioning…”
“Tram has been damaged,” said a dull voice. “Initiating emergency stop.”
“See?” Quarir said triumphantly, lying prone under the bench, “it worked.”
“Bit abrupt,” Nuri brushed herself off. “Okay, what now, oh mighty tram stopper?”
“We jump out the door and go on foot, that’s what.”
“Through a freezing blizzard? For about a mile?”
“Yep.” Grinning, Quarir fastened up his heavy jacket. “I’m hoping they don’t want us enough to follow us in this weather.”
With the doors unlocked- obviously a precautionary measure of the emergency stop- Quarir had little difficulty in sliding them across manually. He steeled himself for the cold- but he still staggered when a gust of icy air hit him in the face, instantly coating him in snowflakes- using the handrail to fight against the winds, he pulled himself towards the door and dropped down.
Nuri shivered, did up her own coat- which didn’t look anywhere near as thick as Quarir’s- and leapt out after him.
They landed heavily. Or, more accurately, they would have if there hadn’t been a six-foot-deep snowdrift to break their fall. Nuri managed to pull herself out unaided, and had to chip some of the snow away with her boot so that Quarir could dislodge himself.
“You just kicked me in the face,” he said accusingly, but he grudgingly accepted her hand.
“Good,” she said breezily, helping him to stand up. “Now what?”
“We get in there,” Quarir said, nodding towards a shallow sconce in the wall as he rubbed his hands and shivered.
The dugout was barely two foot deep, and it was difficult to tell whether it had been carved into concrete or rock. But with the walls around them and the train track high above them, it certainly helped to keep the worst of the blizzard out.
Nuri wasn’t sure if the sconce was natural or not, but the fact that there was a fat, gurgling pipe above their heads implied that it was an intentional part of Frost Peak’s plans. The water pipe- or ineffable toxic fusion liquid for all she knew- radiated a pleasant aura of heat, and that suited her fine.
“How come you’ve got a gun, anyway?” she asked Quarir.
“I’ve had this thing for years- Maintonon confiscated it when he sent me to Earth, so I think he gave it back as a concession.”
“Oh, for good behaviour?”
“Something like that,” he muttered. He didn’t like the idea of being a pet dog, especially to a damn computer…
“Halt!”
Quarir was startled. “Oh… Security. Great.” He sighed. “Better go quietly- in that armour, those bastards can punch like Gef.”
Nuri didn’t bother asking what a Gef was, because the figures emerging from the snow looked unfamiliar. “I don’t think they’re Security guards, Quarir…”
Quarir blinked. They were wearing armour of a sort, and they were carrying weapons, but the badges on their arms weren’t etched with Security’s shield icon. They looked more like lambdas…
