SIV Endgame: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions

SIV Endgame: An Opco Boone Adventure (view source)

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 “Take cover!”
-Bundie grabbed the lad by his collar and thrust him violently into the base of  the cavity formed by the uprooted smoking stump of Tuckers vaporised palm tree. “Hey!” he squeaked. He cracked his head and woozed.
+Bundie grabbed the lad by his collar and thrust him violently into the base of the cavity formed by the uprooted smoking stump of Tuckers vaporised palm tree. “Hey!” he squeaked. He cracked his head and woozed.
-There was a moment of clarity. A sparkular gleam, refracting a rainbow of hope, then a subsonic dropout as Tucker squeezed. A white hot beam of dynamic IM spewed from that magnificent weapon. The arcing white light of a 6(a) notice lit the sky. It hit the SIV’s main margin tank and blew a great hole in it. The liquidity exploded, fanning arcing sparks of magnesium glitter into the sky. They hovered for a moment, congealed into balls of liquid lightening, then zapped out, like targeted missiles, connecting to the barrels ofthe other irregulars: first Swart, then Chipper, then Tucker, then Frenchie then the squibs whipsawed at the tree trunk, slashing here, snapping there as if feeling for Bundie and his ISDA.
+There was a moment of clarity. A sparkular gleam, refracting a rainbow of hope, then a subsonic dropout as Tucker squeezed. A white hot beam of dynamic IM spewed from that magnificent weapon. The arcing white light of a 6(a) notice lit the sky. It hit the SIV’s main margin tank and blew a great hole in it. The liquidity exploded, fanning great arcing sparks of white hot glitter into the sky. They hovered for a moment, congealed into balls of liquid lightening, then zapped out, like targeted missiles, straight at the other irregulars: first Swart, then Chipper, then Tucker, then Frenchie then the squibs whipsawed at Bundie’s tree trunk, slashing here, snapping there as if feeling for Bundie and his ISDA.
-Bundie threw his back against the trunk. The lads — battle seasoned warriors all — stood looking at their weapons in mute curiosity, this curious St avitus dance hypnotising them, while the margin cash flew out of their ammo tanks.
+Each of the soldiers was transfixed. The glow enveloped them, enfolding them it spinning, misting galaxies of stars.
+The boys relaxed and smiled, and beatific glee radiated from them.
+Risk control buzzed in on the static. “Irregular unit 5 we are seeing elevated levels of concentration in your sector. Consider margin adjustments. Acknowledge please.
+Bundie said, “copy.”.
+Frenchie said, “copy.”
+Swart said, “copy.”
+Tucker said, “copy.”
+Doughnut from Chipper.
+Risk control again: “Chipper. Do you copy?
+Chipper moaned with delight. “I feel... ''Awesome''!”
+Tucker quipped: “We’ll, ahh, take that as a ''yes'', then?”
+The boys yukked on the com channel. Bundie snapped them off. “Officer Chipstowe, do you copy?”
+“Feel that ''power'',” murmured Swart. She banged in another clip of self-referencers and let the SIV have it. The thick cable of energy connecting her weapon to the whole ''fattened''.
+''The SIV was somehow drawing power from their weapons''.
+Bundie threw his back against the trunk. The lads — battle seasoned warriors all — were slowly losing contact with their grounding, floating free of their stoplosses, risk control parameters and even trading mandates, their figures shimmering, resolutions pixelating, their guttural moans of pleasure now twisted and contorted as if being strained through a different kind of spacetime geometry.
+They beheld their weapons in blissed-out curiosity, entranced by the St Vitus dance in which they were now undoubtedly part, blamming away wilfully, while the margin cash flew out of their ammo tanks.
 Bundie knitted his brow. Somehow, the SIV had reversed the usual flow of energy and was drawing pools of liquidity, great firehoses if the stuff, into the siv.
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 It got weirder. As fast as the boys could loose off IM rounds, VM rounds were coming back. Swart goosed his stressed day scenario to compensate but he could barely hold it level.
-Chipper was wailing. “Im stuck on static,sir!I ... aaI   ... I’m getting eroded. He's draining me!
+Chipper was wailing. “Im stuck on static,sir!I ... I   ... I’m getting eroded. He's draining me!
-Stop out Chipper.
+Stop out, Chipper.
-I can't. There is nobodyI I repeat there is no bid!
+“What? No need! It’s fine, man!  Look at this handsome beast! Its Sharpe ratio is off the scale man, ahahah!”
+Chipper was gone.
+Swart, close out. At the double!
+“I ... I ... I can't, sir. There is no bid. I repeat, there is no bid!
 There must be a market! I repeat stopout!
+“There is no bid. The market is dead sir. But I can ride this out. Let me inject just ... A ... Little .... More”
+“Officer Swart, stop out!”
+But Swart, too, was gone; collapsed in paroxysms of maniaca,l howling laughter. He floated up into the golden cloud while a concentrated beam of pure VM issued out of his weapon, all the while his image diffused into slowly scattering points of golden light.
 Frenchie stood staring, in puzzlement, at this odd spectacle, a writhing tongue of lightning gripping on to his master. Frenchie has not seen it, but the levels in his cash tank were dropping like a stone.
+Then Bundie clocked it. A dim golden miasma was beginning to surround Frenchie too.
 “Frenchie! Cut your losses! Shut them down!”