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Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions
Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure (view source)
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{{a|opcoboone|}}<div style="text-indent: 20px;"> | {{a|opcoboone|}}<div style="text-indent: 20px;">Three figures stood upon the ridge and watched the eighteen-wheeler rumble through the desert, flanked by a pair of [[COO]] gunships. | ||
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Senior Operations Officer [[Heinrich Kurzweil]] fixed his gimlet eye on the horizon. The rig was handling ''real'' nice. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. But with seventy tons of state-of-the-art ultra-[[modernist]] [[Middle-management|mano-tech]] under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove itself. | Senior Operations Officer [[Heinrich Kurzweil]] fixed his gimlet eye on the horizon. The rig was handling ''real'' nice. ''Sweet ride'', he thought. But with seventy tons of state-of-the-art ultra-[[modernist]] [[Middle-management|mano-tech]] under the hood, you’d expect that. This baby practically drove itself. | ||
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Fifteen klicks down the line, the peaceable settlement at [[Lissingdown]] was oblivious while upon it, the hounds of hell descended. | Fifteen klicks down the line, the peaceable settlement at [[Lissingdown]] was oblivious while upon it, the hounds of hell descended. | ||
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High on the mountain promontory, Seven klicks west and 4,000 metres up, Boone observed the rising plume on the desert floor. He didn’t need his telegraphic scope to watch: These morons were clear as day. Their MIS signature lit up half the goddamn sky. Taking them down would be simple pleasure. | High on the mountain promontory, Seven klicks west and 4,000 metres up, Boone observed the rising plume on the desert floor. He didn’t need his telegraphic scope to watch: These morons were clear as day. Their MIS signature lit up half the goddamn sky. Taking them down would be simple pleasure. | ||
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“Not while there’s breath in me,” Boone said. | “Not while there’s breath in me,” Boone said. | ||
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Kurzweil flipped through the payload. He primed the [[risk taxonomy]]. He unclipped the spend ratio metrics. He flooded the Gantt generator. The HUD registered the [[Lissingdown]] outer perimeter defence systems, a thousand metres yonder. Convolution fields were arcing and humming, muffling the signals across the frequency spectrum. | Kurzweil flipped through the payload. He primed the [[risk taxonomy]]. He unclipped the spend ratio metrics. He flooded the Gantt generator. The HUD registered the [[Lissingdown]] outer perimeter defence systems, a thousand metres yonder. Convolution fields were arcing and humming, muffling the signals across the frequency spectrum. | ||
''Shit was about to get real''. | ''Shit was about to get real''. | ||
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Flags flapped on the Col. The wind was getting up. ''Perfect'' conditions. The wrist-com crackled. | Flags flapped on the Col. The wind was getting up. ''Perfect'' conditions. The wrist-com crackled. | ||
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Boone flipped off the safety catch on his wingsuit, caught the buffet, and ''dived''. | Boone flipped off the safety catch on his wingsuit, caught the buffet, and ''dived''. | ||
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Kurzweil flipped the rig onto auto and started to tool up. The rig steered itself. | Kurzweil flipped the rig onto auto and started to tool up. The rig steered itself. | ||
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“Huh,” he said to himself. “Big bird going to be bad disappointed.” He yanked on his battle-gloves, snapped the latex and slid back into the cockpit. Over the CB, Bugsy was rocking out to Billy Joel. | “Huh,” he said to himself. “Big bird going to be bad disappointed.” He yanked on his battle-gloves, snapped the latex and slid back into the cockpit. Over the CB, Bugsy was rocking out to Billy Joel. | ||
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Boone tilted down and tweaked the airflow over the leading edge. He trimmed his pitch. The roll and yaw were good. He rocked the [[gaze heuristic]] and kept the angle of approach constant. He targeted a zone above and ahead of the rig. | Boone tilted down and tweaked the airflow over the leading edge. He trimmed his pitch. The roll and yaw were good. He rocked the [[gaze heuristic]] and kept the angle of approach constant. He targeted a zone above and ahead of the rig. | ||
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“Okay double-oh douches — let’s be having you.” Boone yanked the ripcord. The brake-chute bloomed. Boone jerked back and up. He flipped a backwards 540. He quick-released the canvas straps and dropped the last fifteen feet through empty space. He cracked a three-point knee-down hero land on the cabin roof. | “Okay double-oh douches — let’s be having you.” Boone yanked the ripcord. The brake-chute bloomed. Boone jerked back and up. He flipped a backwards 540. He quick-released the canvas straps and dropped the last fifteen feet through empty space. He cracked a three-point knee-down hero land on the cabin roof. | ||
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“What the hell was that?” | “What the hell was that?” | ||