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  1. Today
  2. The Red Moon Residents Inn Galatea Starport (Galport) Galatea City, Galatea VI November 23, 3028 It was late afternoon but to Bishop, it might as well have been night. The black clouds that had rolled in had sucked up any ambient light about an hour prior. Now they had opened up, dumping waves of rain throughout the city. Bishop had found some concealment in an small alcove near the front door of the Inn. It provided him with some shelter from the rain but most importantly, it provide a dark shadow that blanketed him completely. His long dark brown trench coat helped breakup his outline in the shadow. From the sidewalk or street he was practically invisible, which is what he wanted. Passerby’s would need night vision or thermal goggles to see him. The few that did pass by, never knew he was feet away. Bishop watched the two bellhops standing next to his many hard sided cases stacked near the door. They had all but forgotten he had coiled himself up in the alcove. Actually they had never seen him sep way. They were more concerned with talk about their last night’s exploits and sports betting. He was pleased that they had at least done what he paid them to do....which was just stand there next to he’s belongings. Without even thinking about it Bishop dropped his right hand to his hip and gently felt the outline of his Gunther MP-20 sub machine gun. Subconsciously the weight of weapon was reassuring to him, it was calming. The 11mm caliber compact weapon was perfect for close in work, the city environment. It was perfectly concealed under the heavy trench coat hanging around his neck on a single point web sling. Bishop kept two spare 30rd magazines on his left hip in holster that attached to his belt. The area the Inn was nestled in was near the space port.. a place that was heavily controlled by low level street gangs and crime syndicates. The weapon would end any street encounter rapidly and violently, Bishop’s style. The combat veteran would leave nothing to chance. His years of stalking humans and mechs taught him two things, patiences and attention to detail. Motionless, the predator waited in the shadows. He waited not for a prey but for his transport to new beginnings, money and a escape from the past. He waited for a man named Colin Trask.
  3. The Lazy Lighthorseman Galatea Starport (Galport) Galatea City, Galatea VI November 23, 3028 _________________________ "Alright, man, I've gotta go do a milkrun. Go ahead and cash me out." I passed my corporate CredTube to the bartender, a guy I knew only by the name of 'Isaac.' "Where are you off to this time?" Isaac asked, running my drink tab through and handing the credit unit and a payment slip back to me. I stashed it away in a pocket of my jacket and began to put on my sunglasses. A loud boom of thunder outside the bar interrupted the motion. "Just off to fetch a new hire," I replied with a sigh. "I hate flying in this shit." "Say, does your company have any openings for a guy who can make a martini?" Isaac asked, wryly, the roar of some ultra-violent video game starting up in the background. "None that I know of. But if you're friends with any ex-cons, psychopaths, or mad scientists who are out of work, send them our way," I laughed. The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Wait. I thought you guys were couriers?" "Uh huh," I chuckled. "See ya later." "Seeya, Lieutenant." As I wandered out of the bar into the gloom of day, the sky overhead opened with a fury, dumping torrents of rain on and around me. I scrambled into the dry confines of the Norman utility truck, brushing the rain off the leather of my coat and running a hand through my now-sodden hair to push it back into place. "Destination, please," the truck's computer prompted, detecting my arrival. Using my StarPOC - its name a messy Crayven Corporation acronym for 'Starship Personal Onboard Computer,' I pulled up the name and address of my passenger. "Red Moon Residence Inn, 83 Bethke Street," I replied. A map flickered into existence, overlaid as a HUD on the truck's windshield. I glanced at the route. "Shit...that's up near the Hiring Hall. This drive is going to take forever," I muttered to the computer. "Please re-state command," the unit answered. "Forget about it. Send a message to the Red Moon Residence Inn. Tell them that Bishop...Weyland's ride is on the way." I shifted the truck into drive with a lurch. Moments later, I was underway.
  4. Yesterday
  5. I'm back! Tying up loose story threads now...
  6. Ceres Metal Industries Lorenzopolis, Triasha - Kimball II Kimbal System, Lyran Commonwealth November 18, 3028 _________________________ "Captain Maxwell, you won't be disappointed!" Steve Jenkins screamed excitedly, his chair, having been inexplicably hurled across the briefing room, slamming into the far bulkhead with a spectacular crash. "I will paint the hills in the blood of my mutilated enemies with this 'Mech!" The room fell into a stupefied silence, all eyes on the underwear-clad MechWarrior as he stood, hand outstretched toward the podium, apparently waiting for...something. Several uncomfortable seconds passed as I attempted to process what was happening. Finally, apparently at the behest of someone in the audience clearing their throat angrily, Steve spoke again. "Can you give me the keys to the 'Mech soon?" Jenkins eventually asked. "Uh...sure...go see the Quartermaster after the briefing," I replied. "And for the love of Blake, please - sit down." Jenkins immediately and obligingly sat down directly on the grated metal floor, letting out a yell as the poor protection his underwear afforded him produced a predictable result. I rested my forehead in the palm of my hand momentarily before moving forward with the briefing. I'd given up trying to rationalize the guy's behavior. "Are there any other questions? No. Very well. We roll out at 0530 tomorrow morning. Get your gear together and a good night's rest. Dismissed!"
  7. C.S.V. Half Moon System jump point Gan Singh IV - November 22, 3028 _____________________________ "What's this about a rendezvous? I thought we were making planetfall on Sheratan proper, not meeting someone in orbit." Overhearing the conversation, I raised an eyebrow in Hauptmann Albrecht's general direction. "Ja, Herr Schmidt," Albrecht replied, nodding a silent acknowledgement at me that seemed to convey a message of 'I've got this covered.' "We are meeting a Crayven Corporation vessel in orbit of Sheratan to take on a passenger, then landing on Sheratan to deliver the package. Two unrelated things. Verstanden?" "Danke, verstanden," Schmidt replied. "Have you got your seatbelt on?" Albrecht inquired. "I'm getting strapped in now," Schmidt answered. "Good," the Hauptmann acknowledged. "I would not want you to emerge from the jump looking like a dropped sauerbraten. Albrecht out." The Lyran snapped his comm unit shut, and cast me a smile. "He is an inquisitive young man. It will serve him well." "Fortune does favor the bold," I chuckled, pivoting back toward the bridge's sweeping main display and glancing at the JumpShip's status as a warning klaxon sounded. "Looks like it's time." I toggled open a comm channel to the entire ship. "All decks, prepare for FTL jump. All decks, prepare for FTL jump." As I closed the channel, three distinct chimes sounded across the Half Moon's public address system. A low rumble soon followed, and the bow of the bridge began to warp and distort, the effect of the Kearny-Fuchida field cascading aft as it rushed toward me like a wave breaking on the shore. A blinding white flash overtook my field of view, and in an instant, Gan Singh and all its problems were over 25 light-years behind us.
  8. ELSEWHERE I couldn't believe my luck. I was getting a Dragon! It was the symbol of my people and excreted my culture. I had already picked out a name for my Mech when I got it, I would call it Hagakure which referred to the warrior's handbook which I had studied back on Archimedes. "Captain Maxwell, you won't be disappointed!" I yelled, jumping up from my chair and knocking it backwards in a dramatic way to show how serious I was. "I will paint the hills in the blood of my mutilated enemies with this Mech!" I stood there in pride waiting for my assignment to begin! "Can you give me the keys to the Mech soon?" I asked, because I needed them to go start its engine and things.
  9. Meanwhile... C.S.V. Half Moon System jump point Gan Singh IV - November 22, 3028 _____________________________ The Half Moon gave a lurch as its docking collar sealed against the JumpShip and weightlessness took over aboard our vessel. From my cramped quarters, I couldn't see outside, but I had to imagine that the sight was impressive. I'd been aboard many JumpShips in my life, but I never got tired of seeing them. I hoped that someone on board with a better view than me would get a picture. The PA chimed with an anouncement: "Now hear this...now hear this...we're not spending a lot of time hanging around here. We have a rendezvous to make with the Mendacius at Sheratan, so we're going to be hoofing it at the jump points. Keep your movements within the ship to a minimum while we're readying for Interstellar jump. We're making the first of those transits in ten minutes." "A rendezvous with a other ship? That wasn't in the plan!" I wondered aloud, with no one around to hear it. I flipped my communicator open. "Schmidt to Albrecht," I called. "Ja, Herr Schmidt, go ahead." "What's this about a rendezvous? I thought we were making planetfall on Sheratan proper, not meeting someone in orbit."
  10. Last week
  11. Bishop stepped out of the shower at the sound of the chimes of his data pad. His workout at the local gym had been a grueling trudge. After a few moments of drying off with a tattered towel he lumbered over to his data pad. It only took a minute for a smile to creep over his face. Mr. Kauffman had responded....transport was in route. Bishop took a few seconds for the thrill and joy to wash over him. A new contact, new opportunities and new adventures splashed before him. A fresh start most importantly. Bishop wanted to start his response but stopped... he need a shirt... at least. He wanted to cover up his tattooed body. Primary the upside down red triangle with a part-human- part wolf emblem on his left pec. He wanted to cover the mark of the Skinwalkers. After a few minutes Bishop had put himself together and sat at his table staring into his data pad. After a quick glance around the top. Bishop touches the respond icon. “Good evening sir, I’m currently staying at the Red Moon Residence Inn. Approximately fifteen minutes from the main spaceport in Galaltea City. If I may suggest, Terminal 17 is good landing pad for any dropship looking to be discrete. As Im sure you are aware, Galatea has many eyes and people looking to ask question about the comings and goings of new DropShips. I am currently ready to deploy. I have my equipment and personal effects here in my room. All that need is a transport big enough to transport myself plus 230 kilos of gear. Again sir, thank you for your time and consideration” Bishop hit transmit, then waited for the confirmation receipt..Two minutes later a confirmation was received. The bottle of Galatea Blue bourbon was siting on s shelf a few feet away. Bishop got up and poured a small glass with a few cubs of ice cold granite blocks in the glass. Bishop couldn’t help but smirk at the four cases of the bourbon sitting in the corner of the room. Truth be told, the alcohol was extremely expensive, really only consumed by the upper middle class of Galatea. His stockpile was payment of work he had done for the local distillery that produced it. Each case represent three graves at the sector cemetery. Bishop took a sip and savored the flavor...a woody smoke burn on his mouth. “Well, that’s one shit head street gang that will never grow up” thought Bishop. The owners could make and transport their goods in the sector unmolested, for a short time at least, till the next small street gang took over. By then he would be gone and long forgotten. After a few drinks bishop walked over to the pile of weapons cases sitting near the door. It was time to clean and function check his gear.
  12. Hey gang - I have an engagement tomorrow evening and will be away from the forum. I'll be back on Tuesday. Characters this affects: Charles Maxwell William Kauffman Jackson McKenna James Hayes Aegis Division NPCs Crayven Corporation NPCs
  13. Meanwhile... C.S.V. Half Moon System jump point Gan Singh IV - November 22, 3028 _____________________________ I sat in the darkened confines of my office aboard the Half Moon, feet on my desk, watching the outline of the JumpShip Riptide once again begin to coalesce into view as we drew near to it. The Invader-class vessel gleamed in the perpetual twilight of interstellar space, its glowing hydroponics pods giving the vessel the appearance of an ethereal, bio-luminescent creature suspended in the void. Although I couldn't see them with my organic vision, the Half Moon's sensor downlink illustrated to my mind's eye a bevy of support craft and passenger vessels swarming the larger ship, some coming, some going, all appearing as a mass of fuzzy, ill-defined phantasms to our Union-class vessel's electronics suite. My eyes wandered back to the data pad propped up against my knee; back to the photograph of Bishop Weyland that was attached to his curriculum vitae. There was an ancient adage, attributed to William Shakespeare, that eyes are the windows to the soul. In my years in the corporate world, I'd come to find that observation quite true. You could tell volumes about a person from their eyes, and from those things that lurked behind them. Bishop's eyes held something...haunting. Something almost...tormented. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but I suspected that, whatever the source, it weighed heavy. My eyes traced down to the 'Employment History' section of the CV. The erratic, on-and-off smattering of odd jobs, milk runs, and garrison stints which followed five years of employment with an organization eerily branded as the 'Skinwalkers.' Irian Technologies... The name seemed to be the punctuation at the end of the man's career, and made the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. What were they doing doing with Interstellar Expeditions? Though Weyland's MRB background check had come up clear, and in fact, carried with it a corporate excellence rating, there remained many murky areas of the man's life journey. Ironically, it was these unanswered questions and the bevy of names and circumstances in the man's background that had drawn me to his dossier in the application pool. Grey more often than not turned out to be a lovely color, and this man was bathed in it. I looked forward to our eventual meeting. Pulling my feet off the desk, I sat up, and punched a button on my desktop comm unit. "Kauffman to bridge." "Bridge; Watch Officer Cheswick - go ahead." "Which of our vessels is closest to Galatea?" There came a pause, accompanied by the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. "That would be the C.S.V. Mendacius, sir. They're currently running corporate intelligence in-system masquerading as a passenger liner," Cheswick confirmed. "Brilliant. I assume we have a tender in the system as well?" I replied. "Yes, sir - the C.S.V. Nomadic is running tender duty to the Mendacius," the bridge officer answered. "Wonderful. I want you to have the Mendacius pick up a Mr. Bishop Weyland from Galatea. I'm sending you his file. Have the Mendacius meet us at Sheratan once he's aboard." Another pause followed my instruction. "Sir - with respect - are you certain that you want this subject to know that we have an operational Bug-Eye?" "He's not a 'subject,' Mr. Cheswick. He's one of us," I answered. With that, I terminated the comm link. Turning toward my computer terminal, I dashed off a note to Bishop before heading to the bridge to oversee the docking operation... ____________________________ - Incoming Coded Message -- Personal Message Follows - - Decode Omega Protocol - SabreEpsilonTango17green: 1st - - DO NOT DISSEMINATE - ____________________________ Mr. Weyland - I greatly appreciate your gracious reply. I've reviewed your C.V. and everything appears to align with the type of candidate we're seeking. As you can imagine, I have many questions, as I'm sure you do also. I'd like to arrange pro bono transport for you and your gear to Sheratan, where your vessel will rendezvous with our executive DropShip. What is your availability for departure? Please send me your current location so that we can ensure our courier is dispatched to the nearest spaceport. Best, William - TRANSMISSION ENDS - ____________________________ Sender: W. Kauffman Encryption Priority: ULTRA HPG Relay 46LR96-DELTA-2720 Received: MSG Comp. 2122 Standard Terran Time ____________________________
  14. "Yes, Thank you Captain Maxwell." I spoke, as I brought up the holovids overlooking the dropzone. "As you can see gentlemen, we have a viable points of ingress along these two roads over here." as I pointed to the holovid map with my multi function laser cutter / laser pointer. "We should have the ability to close to the City detention building from these points here", I said as I pointed, "and here." I said as I cleared my throat. "along these main arteries inbound to the city center". I said with a confident air. "Just like the pincher claws of a Crab we should squeeze our enemies with surprise before our defending enemies the Dieron Regulars know what's hit them." "We will assault at 0530, yes, yes, I know, its ohhh dark thirty, but their slow responses will lead to a much easier victory for us." "Are there any questions?" I said hoping Steve Jenkens wouldn't ask me where to go to get some new Fruit of the Looms, sigh. Concluding I spoke, "So unless Captain Maxwell wishes to add any instructions, you gentlemen should get your rest and we can begin our assault in the morning."
  15. Ceres Metal Industries Lorenzopolis, Triasha - Kimball II Kimbal System, Lyran Commonwealth November 18, 3028 _________________________ "Nice underwear, Steve!" a voice called out. "As you were!" I grumbled in the general direction of the offending individual. Glancing toward Steve, I fought to hold back the stress-induced twitch in my eye I felt coming on as I realized that the MechWarrior was, indeed, seated in the briefing room in nothing other than a ragged t-shirt and a pair of underwear that looked like they should have been replaced months ago. "Excellent question, Mister Jenkins. The neurohelmet calibrations that the 'Mech techs have been obtaining from you over the last few days haven't been for 'just in case' purposes. Our intent is for you to pilot the DRG-1N Dragon alongside Commander Walsh and me as the elements of Hammer Detachment. Once we hit the city perimeter, you'll break off to the North," I replied, the animated attack vector map zooming in to a close-up of a winding avenue which crossed a river flowing into the city, "and escort one of the two APCs along this roadway into town. While you do that, Mara and I will assault the city head-on to draw the attention of the Kuritans toward us. When you've reached the city, you'll switch from an escort role to fire support; the drivers of the APC intend to use the chaos they expect we'll cause when we show up with Sabre Detachment to their advantage as a smokescreen. They'll continue on to the corporate tower, where Lieutenant Blackwood will meet them with his APC. Which segues nicely into the next part of the briefing. Dutch McKenzie will command Sabre Detachment for this mission - would you care to discuss the attack strategy for Anvil Lance with the cadre here?"
  16. Sorry about that. I posted the reply when our hosting company was having issues the other night. Things appear to have gone a little sideways, hahaha. I went ahead and fixed it.
  17. MEANWHILE...... I stuck my hand in the air to ask a question. Everybody stared at me, first because I was asking a question, then because they were all seeing that I was in my Froot of the Looms and a t-shirt in the briefing room. "Yes, Steve Jenkins, what is your question?" Captain Maxwell asked. "I don't have a Mech and I don't want to die again in another tank, what will happen to me?" Captain Maxwell looked thoughtful about it for A minute. While somebody in the back laughed at my stained underwear.
  18. Bishop laid in his sweat soaked sheets staring up at the ceiling. Sleep had escaped him this night. Every few nights she visited him in his dreams. She called him, like a mother calling a child in a soothing tone. Beckoning him to come home... back to her litter of killers. He had been blessed and cursed to have been chosen to be one of her pups. Mother....that was what she’d always wanted to be called. That’s how they all referred to her as, at all times, in person and during operations. She was a ghost yet real as the sun. Always skulking on the fringes of reality and madness. The indigenous people of North America from old Terra had a name for her kind, Yee Naaldlooshii, or Skinwalker. Bishop wouldn’t let his mind creep back into the memories of Dig Site 46, the madness.... the horror. Bishop sat up right and took a few moments to stretch his back. His massive frame cracked and popped at every movement. He was always in pain, the synthetic spinal column that allowed him to function and live also caused an annoying discomfort. Sure, he could get some sort of powerful narcotic to ease the pain but those were addictive. They also effected his mental clarity, which could prove to be lethal to someone like him or his team. He’s chosen poison would be....unusual.... synthetic steroids. They had been issued to him after his injury in the FWLM for recovery and rehabilitation. Another moment of horror for Bishop. He could still taste and smell the dust and concrete covering his broken body. The image of his Spotter and friend smashed in to a pile of flesh and bone flashed through his mind. Then came the shadow.... of the blood red Thunderbolt battlemech towering over him. Bishop could still make out the fanged black dragon painted on the machine’s chest. Bishop stood and looked around his quarters. They were nice yet spartan. He had paid extra for officers quarters, they were always bigger had had more amenities. Galatea had been his home since leaving FWLM five years ago. There he could keep up on training, pick up single order contracts and unit contracts whenever he needed. Bishop felt at ease there, less tortured by his past. He felt ready to work again....he needed the money too. The Mercenary Review Board had slowly drained his account. It had taken months to be fully reinstated as a legitimate mercenary and clear to be hired again. The investigation into several incidents concerning his last unit, the Skinwalkers and Irain Corporation’s indiscretions with prisoner’s treatment had been cleared. The Corporate Lawyers did there job, but his license had been pulled till the investigation was done. After pouring a hot cup of coffee Bishop picked up his data pad and rewatched Mr. Kaufman video message. He was surprised to be contacted so soon after being reinstated. Most employers would be a little timid about hiring someone so quickly after an investigation like that. Bishop paused the video on Kauffman’s face..... Mother told him once, look into their eyes, it’s there you can see who they really are. Bishop looked into the man predatory blue eyes, he saw hunger, ambition and intelligence for......something. Bishop had seen this look in a few battlefield commanders, he knew this could only go one of two ways. Disaster or a shit ton of C-Bills. Bishop knew he would have to ask some of his corporate acquaintances to check out this Crayven Corporation. That could be done later, he need to get back out on operations. Bishop taped the record key, “Hello, Mr. Kauffman. I want to say thank you for contacting me. Yes, I’m interested in working for you and your people. I’ve attached my service and training records from the FLWM. You will also see all my licenses and the MRB’s Operations Record of my work over the past five years. I know you are a busy man, so I’ll keep it short. I’m a fifteen year combat veteran. Ten with the FWLM, most of that time was spent as infantrymen and sniper. I was injured on duty and was unable to work in those fields. The FWLM command transferred me to a light armored recon unit. While serving there I went to basic and advanced armor school. I specialized in hovers, light and heavy tracked armor units. I can assure I can command any vehicle. I can still do reconnaissance and sniper work if required. I spent the last five years with the Skinwalkers, again the MRB has that record. While on assignment with them we were contracted to Irain Corporation with a subcontract to Interstellar Expeditions. We specialized in SERP missions: security for corporate executives, extraction of corporate personnel and assets, recon and anti pirate operations. I’ve also attached my accounting information and contract rate.... negotiable of course. I have some personal equipment in storage that I would like to bring. I currently have no privately owned armor assets. I can be ready to go at any moment so long as the administration paperwork clears. Again thank you for your time and consideration sir. I look forward to meeting you and your people.” Bishop tapped the send key. “Well here we go” he thought. Looking into the screen he saw his reflection.... his weathered and scared face looking back at him. His green eyes, showed a man who was haunted by memories passed. Bishop ran his hand through his silver gray hair.... he need to get buzzed short again.
  19. Meanwhile... Ceres Metal Industries Lorenzopolis, Triasha - Kimball II Kimbal System, Lyran Commonwealth November 18, 3028 _________________________ As the last of the cadre filed into the cramped briefing room aboard the Tana, I hit a button on the small briefing podium which stood before an oversized display. The room's lights dimmed, and a mission overview appeared, complete with a strategic map and intelligence photos of our objectives. "Alright, folks, I apologize for pulling you away from your activities, but we have an emergency contract. "Seven days ago, we liberated this industrial complex, which, as you all know, belongs to Ceres Metals. What we didn't know at the time was that the Ceres CEO, Duke Kingston Rivoli, had been on site just prior to the Kuritan occupation of the facility - and that he was taken hostage by them when they raided the factory. When we hit the complex to take it back, they must have pulled him out and relocated him to this corporate tower in downtown Lorenzopolis." I clicked my presentation remote, and the video display zoomed in on a series of photographs depicting a large, glass corporate tower with the PhoodCo brand plastered across its roofline. "The Lyran Intelligence Corps have been able to confirm that the Kuritans who evac'd from the factory are holed up on the 27th floor of PhoodCo's local offices with Rivoli as their unwitting guest. Our employer wants us to go in with an extraction team and get him back - alive - to prevent the Draconis Combine from extorting Rivoli for resources that could turn the local war effort in their favor." "Our mission objectives are simple. The Gray Death Legion will be sending us two APCs and a squad of infantry. We are to escort the APCs to the PhoodCo tower and defend the objective while the Legion enters the building and recovers Kingston. Once the hostage extraction is complete, we're to provide cover for the APC while it withdraws to our staging area here at the factory. If we want salvage rights, our secondary objective is to clear the operational area of hostiles. Cut-and-dry. Are there any questions?"
  20. @Joker 4-1...welcome to MercNet!! So awesome to see this place growing. I'm your friendly neighborhood LIC intelligence agent, currently onboard the Crayven DropShip. Let me know if you want an assist getting into the story!! @Charles Maxwell...did you change your font? It's.......blinding, lol
  21. I love it! Welcome to the team. 🙂 I've got something teed up for you at the end of William's link, above. Let me know if you have any questions at all!
  22. A 'new message' indicator begins flashing on @Joker 4-1's communication unit...
  23. Elsewhere... A grainy, occasionally-ghosted video feed flickers to life on @Joker 4-1's comm station's monitor. The image slowly resolves into the portrait of a smiling, charismatic-looking executive with piercing blue eyes, coiffed blond hair, and a pale complexion. ____________________________ - Incoming Coded Message -- Personal Message Follows - - Decode Omega Protocol - SabreEpsilonTango17green: 1st - - Disseminate by need only - ____________________________ Greetings, Mr. Weyland. I'm delighted that you're interested in the Crayven Corporation. New blood and new ideas are what keep our company strong! I'm William Kauffman, CEO. I re-founded the company in 3015 after the original outfit was literally liquidated during the Amaris Coup. Have you read our dossier? We're a large interstellar courier company that's currently specializing in armored transport services throughout the Inner Sphere. Our willingness to operate in even the most active of conflict zones has given us a competitive edge against those...other guys. I've read your brief, and your background in archaeology, coupled with the organizations you've previously worked with, fill a very specific niche that we're looking to fill. We're getting ready to do our initial public offering on the Terran Stock Exchange. Our bean counters project it to be one for the record books. We're looking at a potential infusion of cash that will allow us to diversify, and I've got a very specific strategy up my sleeve about where to take the company next. As I understand it, you've had some dealings with Interstellar Expeditions, so I'll spare you the long pitch and cut right to the chase. We're hoping to convince them to let the Crayven Corporation provide pro bono transport services to sites of discovery in exchange for a percentage of salvage rights to any technologies discovered. Holding exclusive partner salvage rights to Star League-era technologies could prove itself to be a seriously worthwhile investment. Your expertise could open - certain doors - for us that might otherwise be hard to navigate. We've just run a successful proof-of-concept with a young man on Gan Singh who was chasing some LosTech, and we're en route back to Sheratan to drop the technology off with the client. Our next stop after that is a skunkworks site out in the Lyran Commonwealth to examine something that will further hone our prospects with IE - and then, from there, it's time to make the pitch. I'd love to pick your brain further about your background, and how our mutual objectives might compliment each other. You also bring insights from the Free Worlds League, an area we're not well-versed in; that's an additional bonus. If you're interested in my proposal, let me know. I can have a transport pick you up from anywhere in the Inner Sphere. Until then, William - TRANSMISSION ENDS - ____________________________ Sender: W. Kauffman Encryption Priority: ULTRA HPG Relay 46LR96-DELTA-2720 Received: MSG Comp. 2053 Standard Terran Time ____________________________
  24. Thank you Charles for the invitation from FB and guidance! Good question, I’m really into exploring the Corporate side of battletech. I think it’s a gold mine of interesting drama and view point. One that isn’t explored much. And the Mercenary aspect with a corporation. I think my character would be Bishop Weyland, corporate mercenary. Former House Marik infantrymen/ sniper. Suffered a spinal injury that caused him to be transferred to light armored reconnaissance. He excelled at armor tactics. After 13 yeas of service he left to be a mercenary. His first contract was security for a Interstellar Expedition archeological dig site. Something horrific and evil happened at the site. He was one of a few survivors that walked away. The incident was covered up . He has close ties to Interstellar Expedition and Irian Industries. Currently he’s a free agent looking for a new contract. Hope this helps . I can be placed wherever. Let me know if you need more or less.
  25. Hello, @Joker 4-1! Welcome aboard! We're absolutely delighted to have you here. I'm so glad that you'd like to join us. As I mentioned on the Facebook group, we are a free-form roleplay that's primarily driven by the creative posts of its individual members. mercenary units and a lone gun operating in the Inner Sphere at present. They are as follows: Aegis Division, led by me, is a mercenary unit comprised of the characters in the Aegis Division portfolio, @Steve Jenkins, and @Mek_Master. We're off on Kimball II right now, working a contract in support of Operation GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG. In our main RP thread, The Universe - 3028, we've just re-taken the Ceres Metals factory from the Draconis Combine, and now we've been tapped to do an extraction raid to retrieve the CEO of Ceres Metals, who is being held hostage in the city core. We're always looking for new lancemates; have a look at our outfit and let me know! I can hold the roll on the action for a day or two if you want to join us in the assault; I have a MegaMek log you can use to guide you through the plot. There's also the Crayven Corporation, led by @William Kauffman. Currently, they're leaving orbit of Gan Singh, where they were assisting @Jackson McKenna and @Agent Nathan Schmidt with an archaeological expedition. Jackson and Schmidt were successful in recovering a LosTech memory core out of the ancient Star League cache, and they are going to head back to Sheratan (where Aegis Division is based) to drop the core off to the client. If you'd like to start things off not in the middle of a firefight, and you'd like some PCs and NPCs to play off of, we can get you on this mission as part of the detachment aboard the DropShip (and you don't have to necessarily be a member of the Crayven Corporation - you could be a business associate, much as Hauptmann Albrecht and Agent Schmidt are). I run both Aegis Division and the Crayven Corporation, so if either of these two options appeal to you, let me know. I can get you written in. We also have @Orlex Jaeger on something of a lone gun mission at the moment, but he may be at a point in the story where he cold use a second set of hands. I'll let him fill in the details there. Alternatively, if you'd like to start out on your own, feel free to jump in with an exposition post of your choosing! Regardless of whether you join up with an existing team or dive into the action on your own, you'll need a character - do you have one in mind?
  26. Hello all. New here, checking in and looking around. I was introduced to this site over at BT international. Thank you. Look forward to learning.
  27. Oh yeah, we may have a few lurkers still in the area. We could run a final clean-up detail depending on the preferences of everyone once we're at that point.
  28. WOOP WOOP WOOP "...the Shit?" I assumed I was the first to hear it, the alert sirens started going off across the whole TANA, changing through lots of different sirens like an ancient 'car alarm' invention I had heard of from 20th century Earth. I tried to get up from my bunk but the sheet twisted around my ankles and I fell over as soon as I got up, I landed with a splat on the bunk room floor with my pillow in my mouth. "RED ALERT RED ALERT MAN YOUR BATTLESTATIONS AND REPORT TO THE BRIEFING ROOM, WE HAVE A NEW JOB" blared the intercom. Long lines of army guys ran by me out of the bunk room to go to their battle stations, I watched from the floor. Then Sargeant Spivey came over and looked down at me. "WHY ARE YOU IN YOUR UNDERWEAR AND STILL IN BED WHY AREN'T YOU IN UNIFORM HELPING OUT WITH YOUR KITCHEN DUTIES OR IN THE EMERGENCY BRIEFING ROOM FOR THE JOB CONTRACT" He hollered. "I'm sorry! " I yelled. "I overslept, and..." "NO EXCUSES!" he screamed, "get to the briefing on the double! Now!" "but I'm in my underwear!" I yelled "That is not my fault, now go!" The next thing I knew I was hobbling toward the bridge in my stained Fruit of the Looms, hiding my shame with my hands and crying softly at my dishonor. I hoped that the job would pay us lots of money.
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