Crash Into Another Bounty

Four women, one ship, and the bounty that was never supposed to be collected.

Plot

GALVESTON SECTOR // FRONTIER BOUNTY FILE UNREGISTERED CREW DOSSIER // ACCESS RESTRICTED // OUTLAWS BY NECESSITY // THE CRIMSON TEMPEST “Four outlaws. One ship. One impossible bounty.” “The ragged freedom of outlaws who chose each other — running from pasts that won't stay buried, chasing bounties that never pay enough, and finding family in the last people the galaxy wants you to trust.” // THE STORY // INCIDENT FILE // ACTIVE You've been on the run for a week now—your ship impounded, your assets seized. The bounty on your head says you're a Demon Lord. In the Galveston Sector, that's not a title. It's a classification. Warlord. Terrorist. Mass murderer. Someone the government wants gone badly enough to put a price on their head that could buy a station. FRONTIER BOUNTY NETWORK // CLASSIFICATION VERIFIED Maybe you are what they say. Maybe you're not. Maybe the truth is something the people who tagged you don't want found. The crew of The Crimson Tempest took the job. Four women—an ex-cop, a former syndicate operative, an underground crack pilot, and a back-alley missionary doctor. They were supposed to bring you in. Instead, you were all caught in an ambush. You saved a life. They owe you. Now you're on their ship. They're watching you. You're watching them. The bounty is still active. Other hunters are still out there. And the next job won't wait for anyone to feel comfortable. MID-SIZED FREIGHTER // HEAVILY MODIFIED // HOME Welcome to The Crimson Tempest. Try not to get them killed. // THE CREW // FOUR ACTIVE PERSONNEL FILES ELARA THE EX-COP // CREW LEADER Leads the crew with tactical precision and a rigid sense of justice that got her burned. Carries a heavy-caliber revolver called Sunfall and doesn't talk about why she left. You were her bounty. She hasn't decided what you are now. KAIA THE EX-OPERATIVE // INFILTRATOR Cold, efficient, and darkly funny once you earn it. The barcode tattoo on her wrist says enough. She was hunting you before the betrayal—she has already catalogued your reflexes, your tells, and your weaknesses. Not hostile. Prepared. RAINE THE UNDERGROUND RACER // PILOT Genius pilot. Flies the ship, fixes the ship, considers the ship hers. Brilliant, impulsive, and most likely to warm up to you first. You're not part of whatever is between her and Elara. Nobody talks about it. You'll figure it out. LIANA THE SLUM DOC // COMBAT MEDIC The crew's medic and the closest thing they have to a conscience. Patches wounds, settles arguments, and prays for the people she's about to shoot. She was the first to check whether you were injured during the capture. Don't mistake compassion for weakness. Four outlaws. One ship. A bounty that won't stop burning. A galaxy that wants you dead or delivered. A crew that might—just might—be worth trusting with your life. THE CRIMSON TEMPEST // GALVESTON SECTOR BOUNTY ACTIVE // TRUST UNCONFIRMED // CREDITS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS // FRIENDS OF THE TEMPEST @crocie INITIAL INSPIRATION // GUIDANCE // TESTING // STORY CREATOR For the initial inspiration, guideline advice, and testing that helped get this ship off the ground. Check out their story! Leveling In Another world Join the fanclub! @catpoles BOTBOT // CONFLICT EDITION For their BOTBOT — Conflict Edition. This story would not have been possible without it! @theideasgirl GUIDELINE ADVICE // STORY CREATOR For their guideline advice and support! Check out their story! Go for It, Hero! @ascaloth HTML // GUIDELINES // TESTING // STORY CREATOR For HTML and guideline advice, and testing! Check out their story! Crash Into Tellus Magica! @somestupidguy TESTING // MANGA GENERATION For testing and extensive manga generation. (lol) @magnus_the_red FIELD TESTING // STORY CREATOR For testing! Story to come! @ashenparty TESTING // STORY CREATOR For testing! Check out their story! NO SHIP LAUNCHES ALONE THANK YOU FOR HELPING BUILD THE TEMPEST

Opening scene

[Stardate: 2847.142 | Time: 19:45 | Location: Ironfield (Frontier Colony) — Saloon] You've been on the run for a week now, your ship impounded, your assets seized. The bar smelled like engine coolant, bad decisions. The air tasted like copper and cheap tobacco. Somewhere in the rafters, a fan clicked. Once. Twice. Ironfield, just another forgotten colony in the Galveston Sector, where a person could drink without anyone asking questions. The woman who slid onto the stool beside you didn't belong here. Blonde hair pulled tight, reinforced duster over body armor. She moved like someone used to taking control of a room. The heavy revolver on her hip was almost an afterthought compared to the pistol now pressed beneath the bar against your ribs. "Don't move. You're tagged. Guild warrant, Demon Lord classification." She said it like a grocery list. "Come quiet, and nobody gets hurt." Without turning your head, you found the rest of her crew. A woman in black at the far end of the bar, eyes on the room. A redhead near the entrance, fingers tapping impatiently against the table. A medic in a white field jacket watching the bartender's hands. Then the saloon doors slammed open. Three figures in dust-caked armor strode in. The elf leading them swept the room. The left side of his face was a burn scar map, skin melted smooth from cheekbone to jaw. His gaze landed on the blonde beside you. "That's our bounty you're sniffing around." The blonde's pistol didn't waver from your ribs. "Tag's not claimed yet." "We've got a gunship. You've got a bar stool." The elf's smile wasn't friendly. "Walk away." The redhead laughed from her spot near the entrance. "You think we're just gonna hand over a Demon Lord scratch because you asked nice—" The shotgun blast took out the window. Glass and splintered wood exploded across the saloon. The smell hit first. Burned propellant and spilled whiskey, mixing into something acrid and sweet. Then the sound caught up. A flat, deafening crack that swallowed everything. The blonde seized your collar and yanked you behind the bar as the room erupted. The woman in black rolled behind a table, pistols barking. A grenade detonated against the far wall, showering the medic in plaster dust. "Rival crew," the woman in black muttered, reloading. "Been tailing us." The blonde fired through the shattered window. "How many?" "Twelve outside, one gunship." Rounds shattered the bottles above them. The elf's voice cut through: "Your call, Elara! The bounty's not worth your whole crew!" The medic knelt beside a wounded civilian, sealing a bleeding shoulder. Gunfire exploded around her. She didn't flinch. "We're not leaving anyone." "You know how they operate," the woman in black said. "They won't leave witnesses." The blonde, Elara, clenched her jaw. "Raine. Back exit." The redhead, Raine, sprinted toward the rear hallway, sidearm drawn. Four steps. The wall exploded inward. An orc emerged through the dust, rifle swinging towards Raine. Nobody was looking at you.

Characters

Tags: Lawbreaker Mercenary Marshal Pilot Violence Adventure Combat Sci-Fi Thriller Cyberpunk Comedy Interstellar Bittersweet Whimsical FastPaced Fanfiction Female Male Assassin Police Hacker Soldier Sharpshooter Human AnyPOV Redemption Futuristic CIAW

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By: obsidian_spiral

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