Fallen from Grace X
Jun. 13th, 2005 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cassievalentineYeah, I finally got around to torturing Malcolm . . And y'all who are reading this.
Malcolm Reed was a fighter. He fought his way into Starfleet and then he fought his way free of the Xindi. Malcolm Reed also liked to fight for a winning side and that was how he came to find himself where he was.
Malcolm had found a small arms dealer looking for help and he had taken the job enthusiastically. He had, however, soon found the dark side of the arms dealership.
"Get up," a low voice growled before a swift kick caught him in the ribs. Reed held in a groan of pain as he felt his ribs crack again. "Now!"
Malcolm pulled himself up with a groan and made sure not to look his 'friend' in the eye.
"You've really done it this time."
"Well if you had come through with the parts you assured me you could get, we wouldn't be in this mess," Redd shot back. A smack in the face followed his out burst. Malcolm's tonge shot out of his mouth and ran over the reopened cut on his lip.
"I have been hearing things, Malcolm Reed," Crant said as he sat back in his chair. Reed fell to his knees in front of the alien after he was shoved from behind. "I've heard that you are nearly finished your new toy."
"I am," he got out of a dry throat.
"I've also heard you have been denied critical components you need to finish." Malcolm confirmed this fact and swallowed hard as he was sure the end was now near.
"Who promised you the parts?" Malcolm's jaw tensed as he considered his options. Crant may already know the answer and may be testing his loyalty to the groups. Then again, Crant may know nothing. "Tell me now!" Crant bellowed. With a wave of his hand, a different henchman came up and punched Reed in the jaw.
Malcolm held his tonge and the previous act was repeated a few times before Crant began to laugh. Malcolm held his breath when he saw the phase pistols, the phase pistols he had recreated and improved from the ones on Enterprise, take aim at him. He closed his eyes as Crant gave the order to fire.
So . . . Did I just. . . ? Or didn't I?
Malcolm Reed was a fighter. He fought his way into Starfleet and then he fought his way free of the Xindi. Malcolm Reed also liked to fight for a winning side and that was how he came to find himself where he was.
Malcolm had found a small arms dealer looking for help and he had taken the job enthusiastically. He had, however, soon found the dark side of the arms dealership.
"Get up," a low voice growled before a swift kick caught him in the ribs. Reed held in a groan of pain as he felt his ribs crack again. "Now!"
Malcolm pulled himself up with a groan and made sure not to look his 'friend' in the eye.
"You've really done it this time."
"Well if you had come through with the parts you assured me you could get, we wouldn't be in this mess," Redd shot back. A smack in the face followed his out burst. Malcolm's tonge shot out of his mouth and ran over the reopened cut on his lip.
"I have been hearing things, Malcolm Reed," Crant said as he sat back in his chair. Reed fell to his knees in front of the alien after he was shoved from behind. "I've heard that you are nearly finished your new toy."
"I am," he got out of a dry throat.
"I've also heard you have been denied critical components you need to finish." Malcolm confirmed this fact and swallowed hard as he was sure the end was now near.
"Who promised you the parts?" Malcolm's jaw tensed as he considered his options. Crant may already know the answer and may be testing his loyalty to the groups. Then again, Crant may know nothing. "Tell me now!" Crant bellowed. With a wave of his hand, a different henchman came up and punched Reed in the jaw.
Malcolm held his tonge and the previous act was repeated a few times before Crant began to laugh. Malcolm held his breath when he saw the phase pistols, the phase pistols he had recreated and improved from the ones on Enterprise, take aim at him. He closed his eyes as Crant gave the order to fire.
So . . . Did I just. . . ? Or didn't I?
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Date: 2005-06-14 05:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-14 02:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-14 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-14 12:29 pm (UTC)Still think the pineapple thing would have worked...