Author Topic: A Reintroduction of Sorts  (Read 196 times)

Offline Anon Nona

  • Member
  • Posts: 453
  • Karma: +2/-0
A Reintroduction of Sorts
« on: 05/24/12 02:32:51 »
When it comes to conducting business and managing vast enterprises, there is a plethora duties and formalities one must perform to be successful. Chief among these is to be brilliant and creative. Charismatic and observant. Act swiftly in the short game and invest in the long game. However, most importantly, any entrepreneur should avoid at any cost:
"Avast ye bilge rats and cast aside yer riches and precious artifacts." With massive weapons in both hands, what can only be concluded as a pirate stood upon the information kiosk. Wrapped in rags with a bandanna wrapped around his head and covering one eye, the figure's attire conflicted with his smooth porcelain skin and fair white hair. The crude weapons swayed from one person to another, already threatening the majority of the rather empty shuttle terminal. Really, the only one who actually looked startled was the droid accepting credits for tickets in a booth. "Come now, come now. Hasty hasty. You cursed lot all have the pleasure of your shinies being confiscated by none other than Captain-"
.o0o.
"Anon Nona, President and Director of Nona Cybernet-" With a sharp crack the well-dressed gentleman with smooth porcelain skin and fair white hair was punched square in the jaw, cutting off the courteous introduction. Anon was still for a brief moment, a dull purple forming beneath the skin that took the pirate's blow.
"Dun care for ye life story, ya dress't up toy." Was it a human? The scars and sores made it hard to distinguish. Didn't smell like one, but Anon's assaulter was too small to be a Hutt. A half-breed was a thought that crossed his mind, but such speculations were best kept to one self under current circumstances. "Nows again. Yer designation and the name of yer owner. Or do I hafta get Screws ova 'ere and crack open yo 'puter box to find out?"
Looking back, Anon was able to put together the pieces that lead to this point in life, but to maintain simplicity and to avoid the possible contradictory details, the President and Director of Nona Cybernetics, Anon Nona, has run afoul of pirates of the worst kind. The kind that are too stupid to realize that Anon was not a droid! The very notion of is was inconceivable. Well, possibly conceivable, but still insulting in the shortsightedness of the thought and that such a mundane words such as droid and man could never hope to come close to describing what Anon truly was.
"Rest assured my finely dres-" The scoundrel raised his fist again, but Anon shrank back and raised a hand to feign protecting himself, "-sir, but I possess ownership over myself." Lowering the well-manicured hand, Anon stared deeply into the pirates eyes with a gentle smile across his lips. "Now, if it was credits you were looking for-"

The pirate was quick with the swinging, bringing a hefty pipe to bear against Anon's skull. With eyes not even giving evidence that Anon noticed the strike, the albino captive fell motionless to his side with the loud snap echoing down the corridor.
"What was that for?" A second pirate spat, surprised by his comrade's actions. He leapt to his feet as Anon crashed to the floor unconscious. The first who had been discussing the matters with the captive stood up to full height, massaging bruised knuckles with a meaty hand.
"I ain't gonna play no droid's fool. Shoulda knocked 'im cold with that first hit. Not gonna let him pull a fast one over us without some precautions." Everything else that came after became intelligible noice as one by one Anon's auditory processes shut down from hardware failure.
Once in awhile, you get lucky. After all safety precautions and fail safes, you can still make a single action count and have all the countermeasures in the galaxy seem like a complete waste of effort. Unfortunately luck works both ways. These superstitious pirates find that out the hard way over the course of the next few months.
As Anon opens his eyes, the pirates' hidden base had gone over several changes. Gone were the shouts and cries as the crude internal defenses turned on their previous proprietors. No more did the klaxons sound alerting the venting of precious air. Re-calibrating his sensory devices, Anon found himself very much alone. Dull illumination came from the surrounding monitors, basking the surroundings in a dark green glow. Garbled distress signals gave muffled screeches over the static that came from the few still operating speakers. The floor and walls were littered with cables and wires, drawn from every door and vent available; ceiling, floor, and walls. However, if none of these had set an eerie atmosphere, to discover that all were connected to him through the torso was enough to bring shock to Anon. Of course missing both arms and everything below his chest cavity was also upsetting, but could be easier to explain.
Trying to put together any available data he still had in his brain, Anon's trance was swiftly broken by the sound of healed boots marching down an adjacent corridor. Soon, a woman's figure was visible to Anon's recovering eyes, her stride and posture quickly recognized. However, her attire and face were bizarre even for Anon's standards, the best example being to see an old friend again after years to find out that they were down on their good fortune. A torn poncho was draped over her feminine frame, with a dirtied body glove hugging her form. A few stitched patches covered parts of her left leg, with her right leg being completely fleshless and showing the composite machine skeleton for all to see. Anon smiled, trying to comment on her appearance, but only static left his lips.
Beneath the woman' hood, Anon could see rough outlines of his assistant's, Ax, face. However, they remained outlines of a face with all the emotion of a mannequin. No hit of the cold calculations or sarcastic disapproval that his memories were providing him. As Anon took in more of her image, he could see that her face probably was not even capable of movement and speech; her face truly being that of a doll's.
Something stirred in the corner. The sensation was weird, because Anon sensed it before he hear or saw the turret come to life and aim in Ax's direction. A part of Anon's mind had felt threatened and a need to lash out. Before he could ponder upon this, however, Ax already had a pistol leveled upon the turret and fired. With a small fireworks display of it's own, the turret exploded leaving only its platform and dozens of questions spinning in Anon's head. Without a chance to ponder on any of them yet, the woman now grabbed Anon by his hair and stabbed a spike into where his collar bone would be.
"Of all the atrociously painful things you had to inflict upon me!..." Anon cried out, eyes tightening and spittle flying from his mouth.
.o0o.
Collapsing on to the counter, Anon bent over with his face flat into the surface and his rear in the air. Ax came up behind him, removing the window-cleaning pistols from Anon's reach, and violently pulling the spike from his body.
Repressing previous programming...Uploading saved default settings...Re-engaging motion control...
"You are enjoying inflicting pain on me, aren't you?" Anon mumbled into the kiosk, face still planted.
<I am your secretary. Not your nanny, Mister President. As such, I will continue corrective encouraging until you understand that.>
Anon knew she was smiling on the inside. Even if she had a fully functional face, you still wouldn't see it, but he knew all the same. When he fixes her body, Az is soooo getting an overbite. That will show her.
"But being a pirate! It's in my blood now... my blooooood..."
<Which is why we are getting you back to a safehouse to get it out of your blood.> Ax stated in Anon's head, leaving the few who were present even more suspicion into the former President's insanity.
~END~
« Last Edit: 05/24/12 02:37:50 by anonnona »