DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantasy Star Online or its used characters. All original characters are my property, even though I could care less.
In my line of work you meet more people than a politician, in a single day. I train Rangers, I teach them, I mentor them, and most of the time I give them the code-names that Hunters use for identification. Pioneer 2 runs a program for new Hunters, so I figured all my work would be during the trip to Ragol. Needless to say, that little 'Incident' sparked up some interest. A lot of Hunters retired after that, but we got twice as many new recruits. Everyone idolized the Team that took down Falz. Then again, we didn't know who they were.
That's right, the best of the best didn't even come out to claim their recognition. I myself am a hot spot for this topic, not because of my being the self-proclaimed 1# RAmarl on the colony but because I entered the Altar with my crew right as Falz went down. I saw four people down in the crater, couldn't get a good look at them. I saw them grab whatever the heck that thing dropped, either drop a Warp or cast Ryuker, and get the heck out of there. My crew got down there fast enough to see the Warp fade away. We'd been told the thing looked like a knight riding something, but this thing looked like a weird two legged spider. There was a huge government investigation, they found a lock of hair somewhere in that mess. They tested it to see it was Rico. So the Principal's daughter was the one who gave this thing the clout. To tell the truth, she wasn't that well liked.
Well, the public opinion is that Falz ain't fully dead.
Sure, those guys killea mutated Rico but those monsters are still down there. Our scientists believe they'll keep regenerating for a few more decades. Well, we can't go back to Earth. We can either float around or deploy the colony onto Ragol. So far there's only one truly safe area down there, the easiest part of the Forests on the surface. The tough parts are still active and we're working on it, so every active Hunter, no matter which genre, is down there tearing up those freaks. I'm training and leading the weaker Rangers in the Forests, and the single and dual units are scattered wherever. But there are some top-notch government Teams in the Ruins, taking out a few monsters a minute.
My husband is a Force and was stuck doing 'research' down in the Mines. He has to sit there and count every robot that walks by. For some reason the Government isn't dispatching the high-powered guys. I'm stuck shooting Boomas from a tree, my husband is falling asleep in the Mines, and there are countless vets who can't even get a Quest.
Moon, is one of those Vets. He was one of the major chess pieces when we were going down to Falz. He helped fry most of the 'Boss' freaks down there. Heck, this guy took out that giant sewer worm, alone. Between his little double-saber twirls and his slicer, that guy should be down there cleaning out the Ruins. Instead, he's stuck on the ship. In his apartment. I'll give an example of when I came over for a visit. And maybe to see if he has anything worth looking at, you should see the stuff this guy collects.
He doesn't answer the door, he never does. I just open the door and walk into his living room, he has a beautiful suite in the Whitill sector. His whole apartment is plastered with photos and artifacts he picked up. His glass coffee table has the skull of a twenty-foot Hildetorr he killed, along with a picture of him next to the body before it dissolved. The wall over his couch is covered with mounted sabers he's used or collected. He even kept the little green one that they tossed him when he first started Hunting. Moon's family has been in this business for a long while. I worked with his Mom back on Earth, I admit she was a better Ranger than I'll ever be. She died when Moon was pretty young, he doesn't remember her much.
His Father worked with androids, so it's odd that Moon became a HUmar. He's probably nineteen at most, that's why a young thirty nine year old like myself hangs around with him. Ha, age is just an excuse to drink. Well, as I was in his living room admiring his saber collection he poked his head out of the kitchen.
"Sonnet, please no smoking this time. . ."
With that his brown-haired head popped back in to finish his cooking. So I had a cigarette a day, this guy hated that. I smelled something Italian, this guy cooked for himself pretty often. Soon he walked out wearing a loose shirt and pants stirring something in a pan. He usually dressed like he was ready for bed when he wasn't in that black armor he insisted on wearing. He was a decent looking kid, if he didn't let his hair just sit there on his scalp. He noticed I was wearing the white Ranger suit and nodded.
"Just finish teaching daycare?"
I smirked and leaned up to see what he was cooking.
"Yeah, only three showed up today. Apparently that movie premier they broadcasted from back home just arrived."
He nodded once again, this guy was never fully in the conversations we had. I crossed my arms and took another glance at his saber wall.
"So you get any jobs since Falz?"
This was a common question, 'Since Falz' meant since Falz was defeated, a lot of Hunters have been out of work since then. He placed the pot in the kitchen and came back.
". . . the Guild has been sending me payments of what they owe me, but I can't even get on the waiting list for an escort job."
I sighed and nodded.
"If I weren't teaching I'd be stuck in the same pit as you. They skipped a payment yesterday, the Principal is trying to screw us over apparently."
Moon leaned back in the chair and looked at the skull on the table. Like I said, he was decent looking if he wasn't so depressed. He had your average Hunter build, athletic, lean, and even some tan left over from his days in the Forests. I've worked a bit with this guy against Falz and on a few casual Quests, when you put a Stag cutlery in this guy's gloves he's a different being. This guy should have been in the books for the way he tore up those Bosses' and that worm without a Force around even.
His code-name for some reason is the nickname his Mom gave him when he was a kid. She had some political clout, she probably made a loophole so when he joins the guild he'd be surprised. Of course it ended up being from beyond the grave, she died shortly after.
". . . I heard ol' Prince' isn't recording names from the Falz fights."
I frowned, it was true.
"Yeah, he's writing a whole book on his daughter screwing over Pioneer 1."
Moon had a rough spot when it came to the Principal and his Cabinet.
He looked over a doorway to a mounted katana, the Sange that his grandfather taught him to use when he was a kid. His Grandfather on his mom's side was a Hunter, too. He used those old katanas a lot, he gave Moon a spare Sange and taught him everything the guy knows now. For some reason he sticks to his Stag though, I guess the sword is a bit too sacred to him.
". . . so I hear they found another door down in the coffin."
They had found an odd door down in the Ruins, it led to one of those weird city things you could see through the windows. We chatted about the Ruins for an hour before I had to leave for home, but not before I checked out an old Partisan he was restoring. This guy was a gourmet of weapons.
Well, turns out Shade, my husband, was held up in the Mines so I had an hour to kill. I stopped by my usual bar for a non-alcoholic drink and to chat with Snake, the next example of the odd people I bump into.
Snake himself didn't show up for a half hour after I walked in. Snake may be my favorite robotic jackass in the whole galaxy. He's your basic black and green HUcast with some minor modifications. Mostly his personality. He's independent, for one. He works at this bar as a bouncer, his main business is what he calls 'Discounted Robotic Goods'. He deals Mates and Fluids for a quarter of what the Government deals them at. Is he a drug dealer or the like? More like the other way around. He makes his own stock from materials he buys, while the Government loads their stuff with junk to thin it out. He makes a good product at a better price than usual, what's so illegal about that?
"Snake! Where ya been, Sarah get arrested again?"
Snake and Sarah, two works of art from a dedicated yet retired scientist. Snake here is a prototype of newer mind system for androids, and Sarah is a different version. A HUcast who runs a business and plays pool, and a RAcaseal who gets in trouble with security often due to angst that for some reason is programmed in. I barely recognized him when he came in, new faceplate. He went from a hooded ninja look to a visor-style. But when I saw him walk up with that usual slouch he stood out like neon.
"Yeah, this time she was harassing HUcaseals down at the parts shop."
Sarah was going through some identity issues. Snake literally flipped over the bar to his usual leaning spot. Supposedly he has an experimental skeletal system with a supporting combat matrix. He can do flips and martial arts, happy? This is how he got to be a bouncer, he doesn't get drunk and he can throw a great hook.
"Geez, you two are related, right?"
He shrugged his angled shoulders and let loose an electronic sigh. He then reached over and stubbed out my cigarette between two metal fingers. No smoking indoors, go figure.
"Yeah, same serial numbers. But Doc better get her bolts on right before she kills somebody."
I rolled my eyes and sipped the water-ish drink.
"Heard from my kids that some RAcasts are looking into gathering some raw materials from the surface, you hiring new guys or what?"
My 'kids' were the rangers in training.
"Heck yeah, those lugs can carry their wait in the junk I need."
So Snake was hiring Rangers to get materials for him in his business, remind me to congratulate the guy who made him. I've seen this guy take out drunks like tissue paper, if they sent this guy down to Ragol he wouldn't even need a weapon. He's got one on each limb built in. His hands and feet. This is what happens to wasted talent, they hang out in bars and play pool. But he did have some flaws, he was cocky, sarcastic, and tended to gamble a bit too much. He had to fight his way out of bars, usually. He was made to be a pool shark, he brags. He always talked in a slightly raspy, digital voice with an urban accent.
"So, how's the little sharp-shooter?"
"You mean the ones who buy guns and beg me for lessons, or the one me and my husband made?"
"The little blonde one that looks like you."
Yeah, I was a mother. Ten years now, and loving it.
"She's doing fine in public school, Shade keeps trying to show her spells."
Snake, without moving his face-plate, smiled.
"Like hell he is. . ."
"Exactly."
The android hopped up so he was sitting cross-legged on the bar.
"So how's the sniping business?"
"Not that many students, dry period I guess."
"Maybe it has something to do with that movie they just made?"
"Haven't seen it."
"It's a documentary on Falz, they even made a huge theory on who took him down. All Hunters, not even a Force."
Another eye-roll.
"The media is nuts."
"They're setting it up for some blockbuster re-enacting it."
"Why haven't I gotten more interviews? I saw the guys, at least."
I finished the drink and tossed some meseta onto the marble. Snake loaded it into their register and looked over while tapping buttons.
"They had some brunette do the interview for you, all their witnesses were actors."
I snorted and walked out after a wave, Snake was used to this so it wasn't rude.
Now, that skinny little HUcast could probably tear up a Delsaber with one hand. Why isn't he on Ragol? Why am I running a rifle school? Why is Shade counting robots? Why is Moon out of work? It's a sad, sad space ship we live in.
The next day I brought Salia with me to the Range, she always loved watching me teach those guys. Today it wasn't too crowded, so I may teach her about mechguns if I don't get any students. But nonetheless there was one kid, he walked in wearing a black and blue armor suit and what looked like a military-style helmet over his head. This was common with Rangers, maybe in a few months he'd get good enough to ditch the armor and helmet like I do. He wasn't carrying and showing off a rifle like every other hack out here.
"Excuse me, but I'm looking for a Mrs. Sonnet?"
His voice was muffled by the helmet kind of, but he sounded polite enough. I was teaching Salia how to hold a mech-gun with one hand, but I smiled at the kid.
"Well, you just found her. You new?"
He shrugged, at least he didn't have shoulder pads in that suit.
"Um, just had my armor sizes done this morning."
Salia and I shared an inherited smirk, new guys were always hilarious.
"Lemme guess, you want a gun?"
The guy probably smiled, wasn't sure though.
"Hey, I'm a guy. That's 50 of my goals in life, along with the opposite gender."
This sent me into an uproar, Salia laughed even though it was an inside joke that flew right over her head.
"I have 'em in my car, I should be able to get you all the standard stuff."
A minute later he was standing patiently while I sifted through the trunk of my car, pulling out a disabled handgun, what looked like a flashlight, and a pack of Materials. He thanked me, even though I gave these out to every little runt that came along. I started teaching as we walked back to the Range. I'm required to give Rangers a saber, for some reason.
"First things first, why a Ranger?"
"Huh?"
"Why nor a Force or a Hunter?"
"I just feel more natural with a gun."
Didn't we all.
"Well, why are you Hunting in general? Honor, for money, women?"
He was probably staring at me from behind that blue visor of him.
"Um. . ."
I didn't wait for him to mumble.
"Pardon my guess, but it's in your blood."
He stopped to keep staring.
"I know it sounds too dramatic, but I can tell you're doing this out of tradition. That outfit is like a remix of the snipers back in the day."
He nodded, confirming this, but still dumbstruck.
"You have some problems at home, kid? You run into hot water, end up screwed or deep under, so you fall back on your family trade. Or maybe you had a normal job, but it was inside you the whole time. The fact you're a Ranger deep down, you were born to shoot. Am I right?"
Usually these little accusations of mine end in laughter. When I say born to shoot, that means they'll have dedication, discipline, rarely does it mean they have amazing talent. But this kid started keeping pace again, not saying a word but by the way he was stepping he knew I was talking. I got us into a firing booth and gave him the Handgun while Salia went off to the vending machine. He actually gripped it right. Usually I had to twist their hands around six times.
"Kid, you read up on this beforehand?"
He shrugged, seemed like a nice kid.
"I kind of read the Ranger's Atlas. . ."
He reads the Atlas? The Atlas was a twenty volume book set about Rangers, weaponry, and even some history. Moon's mother wrote it years ago, and it's been updated every year since it's great for students and rainy days. Not that there are any of the ship.
"Hm, you just bought yourself a few days off."
He seemed surprised, like he was going to be fired already. I was pulling a small risk, letting anew Ranger fire a gun on his own.
"Kid, can you shoot that gun?"
He nodded, very slowly.
"You ever done it before?"
A head shake, Salia was sitting on a ledge watching this.
"Then go shoot at the target, I'm gonna go get a candy bar."
Real dramatic, eh? I just spun and walked off towards my daughter. Who already had bought said candy for me, giving me some time to watch this kid without me knowing.
Said kid was already looking down at the gun and at the target. He set up in a stance that brought me back to working with Moon's mom, she really did write down everything she knew in that book. He aimed it at the blue and red target, and fired. I reached over and patted Salia on the head.
"See, Runt? Bull-eyes aren't that hard to make. . ."
The kid came back the next day. He kept hitting the target and I kept watching. As he left I grabbed him by the shoulder so he wouldn't walk out in another daze.
"Kid, how about we go down to Ragol some time?"
He said that'd be great, in his dazed little way.
"Meet me at the Warp on Wednesday. Get yourself a rifle, some Mates, and something to carry some items in."
He agreed. This kid, may be just what this ship needs. Skill.
Author's Notes
Hey, first PSO fic here. As you may have guessed there's some metaphors on talent that symbolize what's going on. And also a crazy sub-plot that is going to drive you all nuts. Well, read and review, flames welcome.