TGF watched Arawn walk away from the acid pit, his face etched with disappointment that people wouldn't play along with his silly jokes.
Inside his head, however, was another story.
Ezekiel, League Commander, had found a target. In fact, this bar on this godforsaken rock seemed full of multiversial misfits. They needed to be returned.
TGF turned back to his half-empty (Half full? No, half empty. Too many dangerous characters nearby to think positively.) pint of bitter, and polished the entirety of it off, the look of childish disappointment still on his longish face.
As he rose to leave the bar, his watery blue eyes surveyed the bar, still exuding disappointment at the patrons' utter seriousness. People needed to lighten the hell up, for crying out loud.
The whole 3km through the corridors of the Rock, his demeanor never changed. Even when he had reached the Kiev, his face was still locked in the same stupidly let down expression. The Kiev was currently disguised as a Crescent Warship. In reality, the ship could appear to be nearly any concievable design, but had chosen for himself (Ships were referred to as male within the League, rather than female.) the fairly common design.
"Kiev, open up. I'm coming aboard." Zeke's voice had somehow changed, become deeper, more commanding. It was, in fact, the voice of a commander of men. The boarding ramp extended, and he strode up it with purpose. There was business that needed attended to.
"We have targets. Estimated threat level red. We need a dimlock and several teams. Let's say three. This mess needs cleaned up." Kiev, the ship's computer, immediately filed the corresponding requests within the League's computer network, and responded in his metallic voice with, "Anything else, Commander?"
"Yes. Inform our infernal Queen that I want the teams here in a timely manner." Last time, every target had escaped before the teams had even arrived. Zeke was still irritated with the Queen Mother, ruler of the League of the Long Bow.
Kiev, used to Zeke's inflammatory comments, knew better than to actually forward the message.
Now all that remained was to wait. Zeke kicked back in his chair, and began planning.
This post has been edited by TheGreenFile : 04 September 2005 - 01:19 PM