[attachmentid=98]
Massing nearly ten thousand tons, the Overlord Class DropShip is the ultimate space combat vehicle still existing in the Successor States. As the Succession Wars drag on and the number of Overlords decreases, they are even more highly prized by the warring Great Houses.
The Overlord delivers large complements of BattleMechs and aerospace fighters into battle. It can carry a
I pressed my palm against the wall-mounted reader, its laser grid bathing my hand in a wash of ruby-red light. The heavy blast door at the far end of the antechamber rolled aside, granting Saburo and I access to the armory beyond.
"Please - follow me."
Saburo cautiously followed on my heels as I stepped through the bulkhea
I burst into the testing chamber, the smell of fresh offal reaching my nostrils as light from the corridor illuminated the grisly scene before me. The Battle Armor lay on its side, remaining near-motionless as I approached.
"Oh my gaw...Charles! What happened here?"
I took a long drag on my cigar - the first I'd had in almost two days, and exhaled slowly. Normally, I didn't smoke in the cockpit - but I needed to get my nerves under control - quickly. I hadn't anticpated I'd be telling B
A dazzling aray of colored light flashed across the battlefield, as tracer rounds tore through the air and hundreds of missiles cut smokey trails through the afternoon sky. Explosions thundered with unrelenting, ear-shattering intensity, accentuated by the unmistakable crush of metal on metal, as three lances of leviathan machinery clashed for supremacy on a once-tranquil, two kilometer stretch of finely-manicured lawn. Our painstakingly-org
A thunderous explosion roared through the streets of Gellen's Heights, followed seconds later by an earth-shattering shockwave, as a mushroom-shaped fireball of monsterous proportions rose above the city skyline, blotting out the sun as it reached toward the heavens. My OmniMech was battered by flying debris, and I fought to hold the controls steady as buildings were torn apart around me.
I announced, disengaging the combat program and stepping from my BattlePod. A series of clicks and hisses filled the Legionnaires' simulation chamber as fellow participants - including a very much alive Benjamin - exited their own pods.
"A very remarkable scenario you've come up with, Corporal Lourde. I
Date: 14 March 3069
To: Harris, Ron - Intelligence Division
From: Maxwell, Charles E. - Intelligence Division
Re: Operation Quaero
Clearance: Top Secret - EYES ONLY
Mr. Harris -
Well done. I've got a feeling we're about to walk into the hornets' nest. Let's hope we're not getting in over our heads. With on
Date: 15 March 3069
To: Harris, Ron - Intelligence Division
From: Maxwell, Charles E. - Intelligence Division - Intelligence Division
Re: Operation Quaero
Clearance: Top Secret - EYES ONLY
Mr. Harris -
As you know, the last communication received from the C.S.V. Foundation placed it in the Outworlds Alliance, considerably clo
Meanwhile....
Corporate DropShip C.S.V. Dreams of Avarice
15 March 3069 - 1300 Hours G.S.T.
_____________________________
The DropShip's smallish briefing room was filled to near-capacity by the cadre that had gathered for a pre-Op briefing that, officially had never taken place. Captain Harris and his staff stood shoulder-to-shoukder along one side of the bulky holoprojector table which domi
Meanwhile....
Corporate DropShip C.S.V. Dreams of Avarice
Three Days from Sheratan Jump Point
02 March 3069 - 1823 Hours G.S.T.
_____________________________
I stood before the sweeping viewports of the Dreams of Avarice's main lounge, watching the star field shift subtly as the DropShip burned toward Sheratan's recharging station. Far in the distance, the Liberty plied
Meanwhile...
__________________________________________
"Easy...easy...don't bump the shield...there we go."
The Dreams of Avarice eased gently against the JumpShip's docking pylon, the experiemental light-conducting shield, which enshrouded the vessel in a cylindrical cocoon, fluttering gently as the kinetic forces associated with the docking process dissapated. I let out a sigh of
Meanwhile...
_________________________________________________
As the Liberty became engulfed in the fiery upper atmosphere of Delacruz, the 200-ton DropShuttle Omnicorp tore through the cosmos, its precious cargo of man and machine plucked from the vacuum and secured safely aboard. The covert transfer of Director Miyamoto had gone off without a hitch, and as the Dreams of Avarice rocketed into its
The Blakist Rifleman and my Daishi danced a slow, deadly waltz, hurtling withering weapons fire at each other, setting terrain ablaze, blasting massive craters in the earth, and, once in a great while, landing glancing, neligible shots off each others' 'Mechs, so as to preserve the illusion that our two war machines were locked in a fight to the death. Around us, the ground forces disgorging from the Dreams of Avaric
Meanwhile...
__________________________________________________________
My Daishi crashed through the jungle's overgrowth, keeping pace with the small convoy that surrounded it. Flocks of avian life winged their way frantically skyward as their treetop refuges were smashed to pieces by the assault force passing through, while herds of biped and quadriped animals scattered in all directions.
Ahead
Meanwhile...
_________________________________________________________
The Albatross and the Mauler plodded out of the pea-soup fog, appearing on the garrison's perimeter as a pair of unholy avatars of darkness, the morning sun sending rays of light cascading eerily around them. I gritted my teeth, and brought Fury's weapons to bear on the Albatross. I knew this was going to be an ug
Meanwhile...
____________________________________
My Daishi lumbered through the thick jungle, slowly making its way toward the now-fortified clearing where the Dreams of Avarice awaited the arrival of the convoy of APCs which I was presently escorting. To my southeast, Director Miyamoto's battle-scarred Atlas followed on the convoy's right flank. I was keeping my fingers crossed that we wo
Meanwhile...
_________________________________________________
Even in its badly weakened state, my Daishi was still capable of bringing enormous amounts of firepower to bear on any target stupid enough to get in its way. With a contemptuous smirk, I drew a bead on the last Von Luckner attempting to take me out with its hilariously lacking weapons loadout. Although the beefy tank was more than a match fo
Meanwhile...
_________________________________________________
A few scant minutes later, our tattered war party had made its way back to the Dreams of Avarice, and began the process of boarding the nearly eight-hundred points' worth of equipment fielded in the harrowing rescue attempt. There was no time for salvage, save for whatever few components the technicians aboard our Savior recovery vehicle h
Meanwhile...
_________________________________________________
The grainy color images recorded by Saburo's helmet-mounted camera played across the wall of my ward room, scenes of carnage and destruction bathing the darkened chamber in a ghastly blood-red. He had performed well - almost too well - up to the very end of the operation, when, in an uncharacteristic, and somewhat nerve-wracking act of compassion, he ha
Meanwhile...
______________________________________________
The Dreams of Avarice's corridors were abuzz with pre-launch activity as I made my way toward the modified cargo bay which had been retrofitted to serve as a makeshift R&D laboratory following the destruction of the corporate offices on Vesta. The cramped, two-deck-tall facility had seen the development of everything from improved circuit breake
The massive orange sun dipped below the horizon, painting the landscape in a purple twilight that slowly gave way to a gentle blue, accentuated by Sheratan's eternally-full moon. A cool breeze fluttered across the Atrium Building's twenty-seventh story palm court, sending a chill down my spine as I extinguished my cigar in a nearby chrome ashern, and buttoned my jacket closed. I turned to glance at the ornate clock which hung over th
"So, Charles...have you brought us here just to show off how the other half lives...or is there some point to this meeting?"
Pigheaded as always... I mused, flashing an empty smile at Schultz before launching into my spiel.
"Lisa, to be quite frank, the only reason
I sat in the darkened confines of my temporary office on the top floor of the Crayven Financial building. As the Atrium Tower had yet to be completed, the project managers responsible for the Equinox project had ensured that the Financial division chief's office space had been assigned to me, relocating the corporate bean-counter who normally occupied the space to a corner office several stories down. Across from me, staring at the obsid
I will be out of town from Sunday, December 31, to Sunday, January 7, and unable to post. Characters this affects:
Charles Maxwell
Benjamin Maxwell
Phoenix
Sergeant Hobson
I believe there will be ample participation from others once this current holiday week has passed to continue in my absence. If you all wish to do so, please do, and I will catch up upon my return!
Happy New Year to all!
Crap, I knew I forgot to do something! As of the 7th, I was back.
Congratulations Graduate!
Wedge -
You don't need no stinkin' car. Park your Raptor II across three spaces and show the world who's REALLY king of the road!
Meanwhile...
DropShip C.S.V. Dreams of Avarice
Gellen's Heights Spaceport
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
______________________________________________
"Are the feeds from the Liberty functional?"
"They are, General. It looks like they're conducting combat simulations at the moment. If I had to guess, I'd say that they're trying to realign the
"Half Moon...are you watching this?" I murmered, the transmitter mounted in my reading glasses relaying the scene to Crayven Corporation's orbiting DropShip as it unfolded.
"We are, sir."
"What do you make of it?"
"Even if we locate the platform, do we have the firepower to take it out? I know the Legionnaires have limited aerospace assets—or are you implying this will be a Trojan horse operation? If so, how would we convince the platform to take back an escape pod which it knows you used?"I quickly interjected.
"I love the smell of flesh burning."
As the banshee death screams of the unfortunate Blakists, who had been in the docking port when Major Reade's home-brew napalm grenade exploded slowly dwindled away, I tossed the butt of my cigar onto the deck, and extinguished it with the heel of my boot.
"I'm glad y
Destroy Secondary and Tertiary Capacitors...
The objective was hilariously open-ended - no tactical advisories, no best method of approach - just a simple, vague, one-liner telling me to blow the platform to hell via whatever means necessary. I chuckled at the implications of the directive. 'Any means necessary,' in Crayven terminology, generally meant that a field commander was authorized to utilize whatever resour
An apocalyptic explosion ripped open the containment chamber which housed the first of the secondary capacitors, sending distressed metal corkscrewing through the air and setting off a myriad of alarms. As the surviving Blakists within spilled out like a swarm of angry hornets, Major Reade triggered his XP-5 Broiler microwave projector, an experimental device handed down by R & D for field testing. Although the technology had been
Down the darkened corridor our team hurtled, using whatever handholds we could find to pull us along in the near-total darkness, which was only sporadically interrupted by flashes of golden light cast by exploding circuitry and shorting conduits. Screams, shouts, and garbled radio traffic echoed throughout the bowels of the ship as harried Blakists scrambled to regroup in the aftermath of the control room's demise. I chuckled at the impl
The primary engineering section of the Crimson Platform was a scene from the bowels of hell as I floated through a sea of darkness, illuminated sporadically by the ruby-red flash of warning strobes and the occasional bursts of light from exploding consoles and conduits. The hiss of rupturing pipes, which billowed hindering, scalding-hot steam from points along the corridor I was attempting to traverse, accompanied the loud groans of a mighty
Floating through the ghastly sea of blood and entrails, I slowly made my way toward the large, circular blast door at the end of the chamber, shielding my face, mouth, and eyes as best as I could to avoid exposure to the biological fluids floating all around me. As I reached the far bulkhead, I unzipped a canvas box attached to my hip, and removed a biohazard mask from within. Pulling the straps around my head, I cleared the mask, and turned
Elsewhere...
The near-yelp of actuators revving drew closer and closer, as two ultrawhite beams of light sliced through the hold's darkness, bobbing up and down wildly as the Battle Armor on which they were mounted charged along what was considered the 'ceiling' of the passageway. Thastus and I backed frantically away, pushing deeper and deeper into the hold, until our backs were against the sealed blast doors a
"There's already a DetPac here. They must've succeeded."
Thastus examined the explosive, whose digital readout was counting down from six minutes. Quickly, she shook her head.
"No. This DetPac was just placed - moments ago. Whoever planted it is still in the area."<
QUOTE(Captain Garrett Garland @ Sep 4 2006, 10:53 PM) [snapback]1686[/snapback]
For some reason a bunch of them aren't working now.
Which ones are you having trouble with?
All joking aside, the tenderloin at The Tapas Lounge in Port Warwick, Newport News, is by far the best beef product I have ever had, anywhere. But at $20+ for a piece the size of a speed loader, it ain't cheap!
QUOTE(Captain Garrett Garland @ Sep 1 2006, 08:44 PM) [snapback]1672[/snapback]
Which head you like the best? I always go for the left one. They always seem pre-cooked to me though.
Yeah. I'd have to agree with you on both points. The left one always seems to have more flavor and
QUOTE(Captain Garrett Garland @ Sep 3 2006, 01:07 AM) [snapback]1676[/snapback]
Less genetic mutation?! But that's my favorite part! You know what they say: Brahmin are like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. I've taking a liking to radscorpians as of late, their stinger is simply delectable
Elsewhere within the prison...
"YOU WANT ME TO CONVERT?!?" I screamed, tensing against the interrogation chair's straps, and spitting a mouthful of blood onto the room's ferrocrete floor. "There's my fucking signature! Now give me a FUCKING cigar!!"
The Blak
"How does it feel, Mister Maxwell?""Your breath is a
hell of a lot worse,
asshole,"
I snarled through clenched teeth, the firey pain of the 'repentance rods' that had been driven under my fingernails nearly overwhelming. The Deacon shook his head sadly.
Several days later...
_____________________________
Deacon Rencroft stared at me impassively across the interrogation table.
"Clearly, torture is not a motivator for you, Mister Maxwell."
Though exhausted b
"Dead? What are you talking about?"
Deacon Rencroft smirked at me.
"What part of 'your son is dead' don't you understand, Mister Maxwell? Benjamin is no longer amongst the living. Shuffled off the mortal coil, as it were. 'Bought the farm,' even."
<
A crushing pain racked my soul as I examined the subsequent photographs, a grisly series of crime scene-style images depicting in visceral detail Benjamin's ravaged corpse.
"You pieces of shit..." I mutttered, attempting to maintain my composure. The torrent of grief and sorrow threatened to overwhelm me.The Blakist dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, a smoldering hole cored in his chest courtesy of Garland's concealed laser. Though weak to the point of near-collapse, I managed to pull myself to my feet and shuffle toward the fallen guard, spitting dryly at his corpse before kneeling down and snatching a herbal cigarette from his uniform pocket. It was no Arturo Fuente Opus X, but it smoked. And that's all I gave a shit abo
A calamitous explosion ripped through the RMBU complex, jarring the building with such force that it felt as though the entire, mighty structure shifted on its foundation. A torrent of plaster and dust fell from the ceiling, coating the floor in a thick white powder. Klaxons wailed, accompanied by a cacophony of footfalls as myriad boots thudded against the floor.
"Sounds like someone's h
Blakist guards, technicians, low-level laborers, priests and deacons alike were all mowed down with brutal efficiency by the RP-22-weilding Clanners who took point in our group, clearing a safe path for those of us armed with less than automatic weaponry to traverse. Ahead of us, fighting had broken out on and around the Overlord-class DropShip which Desparado had selected as our high-end taxi off Kittery. The fighting had intensified to the
"Sheratan it is," Reese replied, "though in all honesty, I hadn't anticipated that this ship's final jump would be right back into Crayven Corp's backyard."
"Be of service to me Edward? I have a feeling that it shall always be I who is in your service. But if you could help us recover whatever is left of the Legionnaires back on Sheratan without being detected by the Crayven corporation, that would be much appreciated. I don't understand the workings of your quantum drive, but are you ready to face Crayven Colonel? They surely aren't going to miss the Astrid coming into the sy
Garrett Garland asks:QUOTE
I don't know why I can't place [his avatar]. . .but who is 'Charles'?
Charles Maxwell responds:. . . Charles is a little harder to explain. Answering your question also requires that I explain the origins of his son, Benjamin.
In 2002 - 2003, Gen Miyamoto and I were very active on Me
At the moment? Whoo...here goes...
EarHugger Secret Service Covert Earpiece
Field Interview Notebook
Pens x 2
PainCrusher Headache Medicine (2 tablets)
Laminated 10-Code and Clearing Code Cards x 3
Disposable Breathing Barrier
Cell Phone Earpiece
T-Mobile SideKick III
Stinger Tactical Flashlight
Ammo Mags x 2
Winchester 6" Tactical Folding Knife
Glock .45 Cal
OC Spray
Gerber Multitool
Motorola Radio
Keyrin
"Where are you going?"
Captain Garland glanced back at me.
"To the bridge. There's work to be done."
I nodded.
"Very well. I'm headed into town. Takin
“Doctor Faulkner… what a pleasant surprise…”
Faulkner skidded to a stop, literally colliding with my chest as I stepped directly into his path. At six feet even, I easily towered over the five-foot-something octogenarian, who seemed to shrink even more as I glared imperiously down at him."And where are you shuffling off to so quickly?"
It had all started six months ago. Six months ago - on that damned Friday - when Benjamin reported to Equinox to undergo the series of examinations which led to the damning revelation that my son - and my only child - had Rissikin's Disease, the same godforsaken disorder which had claimed Alyssa, my beloved wife of over thirty years.
In a heart-wrenching meeting with Benjamin, I'd revealed our findings to him. Revealed tha
"Bull shit."
Phoenix glared at me, a look of utter disbelief on his face. Over the last twenty minutes, I'd tried, as best as I could, to explain everything to the bewildered young man - from the project's origins, to the cloning process, to the utter failure of the whole sordid affair. He clearly wasn't buying it,
While Norrington busied himself with a bowl of the most vile-looking shit I'd seen the AutoVendor dispense to date, I nursed an equally-disgusting cup of high-test coffee in the ship's near-vacant galley. With a skeleton crew manning the ship, the crowded, chaotic atmosphere that had typified previous Legionnaire operations was noticably absent. In many ways, it reminded me of bygone days aboard the late Dreams of Avarice, whe
[ Outgoing Coded Transmission ]
[ Transmission Protocol: Scorpio ]
[ Security Level: Tacit White ]
__________________________________________________________
To: Harris, Ron 'Butch' (rbharris@secureserver.excelsiorcorp.avtp)
cc: Harris, Ron 'Butch' (inbox@cypher.csvastridnx01.ves)
From: Maxwell, Charles E. (cemaxwell@cypher.mvdauntlessxv6700.ves)
S
Charles Maxwell, reporting for duty. In the absence of a Daishi...I suppose I'll have to make due with a Bushwacker.. Do you need the loadout?
Additional characters participating in this Op:
"Phoenix" - piloting an Urbanmech.
1. I'm greatful for the 100-ton monstrosity known as a Daishi. No other BattleMech allows you to literally wade into the center of a mechanized melee with such utter invulnerability as the 'Great Death.' And I do so enjoy close-quarters combat.
2. Overseas bank accounts.
Apple pie. Worth a major investment in warfare to secure.
QUOTE(Bounty Hunter: Sam Grisham @ Nov 26 2006, 04:23 PM) [snapback]2327[/snapback]
I'll back you up there Captain!
Nothing like a good bar fight to get things started
Just to le
36?
Ouch.
Talk about an insane cost of living.
"You're verifying your orders? What the hell, Norrington? We need assistance now!"
Phoenix sounded frazzled - and extremely upset. As the back-and-forth across the comms continued, I stood helplessly by, watching on the radar as a Griffin, a Black Hawk-KU, and, incredibly, an MDG-1A R
"Excuse me, Miss," I chuckled, my arm uncoiling itself from around the small of the courtesan's back who had been availing herself to me throughout the course of the evening. "I'll just be a moment - I need to...freshen up."
The Vivarian - an exotic-looking woman by the name of Ah'shana - smiled seductively, and
“We’ll go together…” a voice hissed, wavering unsteadily between total stability and sheer madness. I whirled on my heel as an expression of shock crossed Schuster's face.
“Saburo? What are you doing here?” I asked, cautiously. Saburo
"We've got a problem, Charles, and I need your creativity to get us around it."
Barely had the words escaped Schuster's mouth than the ceiling above us erupted in an explosion of dust and plaster, and a blonde-haired soldier in a royal-blue and white uniform crashed through the resulting void, tumbling to the floor with
I clambered up the escape ladder of the Marauder IIC, barely aware of my surroundings even as the sounds of total warfare erupted around me. I was focused on only one thing: getting to the cockpit of the war machine and bringing the Clan-built piece of exquisite machinery online. After that, everything else would fall into place. I'd already considered that in all likelihood, the assault 'Mech probably had a sophisticated user
Garland's Warhammer was thrown to the ground in a staggering onslaught exacted by Jade's Atlas, and, to add insult to injury, the bitch decided to finish her grossly overpowered attack in the most humiliating fashion possible - by mashing the Captain's cockpit beneath her war machine's foot like an insect needing to be crushed. I wasn't about to let that happen.
I wheeled my hijacked Marauder I
M.V. Dauntless
Galley
April 10, 3071
____________________________________________________
The beef stew appeared to be the color and consistency of diarrhea as it splattered sickeningly into the styrofoam bowl provided by the AutoVendor, and as the last of the god-awful concocction exploded messily throughout the service compartment, I groaned in disgust. I'd assumed that, after seven months of eat
:::looks around shiftily::: Um...it was just a water pistol...sure, that's it - a water pistol...
QUOTE(Captain Garrett Garland @ Apr 5 2007, 03:35 AM) [snapback]2820[/snapback]
Also, please do not save me from my prediciment.
Hmm...guess I need to go modify my p
QUOTE(Charles Maxwell @ Apr 5 2007, 11:55 AM) [snapback]2824[/snapback]
Hmm...guess I need to go modify my post, then.
Done. Jade's
Atlas can sure taking one hell of a pounding, it seems.
My boots thudded heavily on the deck plating as I walked as briskly as I could across the mess hall, stopping only once I had reached the far bulkhead. With a sharp thud, my outstretched hand slammed against the ferrosteel wall, my head hanging limply before me as my chest was wracked with a coughing fit. I stared at the lit cigar in my hand, debating whether it had been the stress as of late, or the cancerous drug addiction, which had cause
Hundreds of horrific memories surged from the dark recesses of my mind, rising from the cavernous abysses where they'd been locked away for years, to present their grotesque forms once again. The hospitals. The surgical bays. The endless streams of medications, pumped into Alyssa's body in a futile attempt to forestall the inevitable.
The funeral. The empty house. The difficult explanation to nine-year-old Benjamin. The te
Meanwhile...
L.V. Nova - Operated by Trans-Galactic Spaceways
En route to Sheratan
9 May 3071
____________________________
I reclined in the upholstered embrace of my lavish jump seat, its overstuffed cushions contouring themselves to my body like a finely-made dakimakura. Ambient music played softly in my ears, wafting forth from tactfully-concealed acoustic reso
Elsewhere...
Gellen's Heights Spaceport
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
11 May 3071
____________________________
With a loud hiss, the seal on the main gantryway of the interstellar transport disengaged, and the hatch slowly rolled away, allowing artificial light to spill into the underbelly of the luxury liner as the filtered atmosphere of the transport began to mix with the crisp, fresh air pu
Elsewhere...
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan - Government Sector
11 May 3071
____________________________
Sam Grisham's actions had left me stunned - and impressed. I'd always taken the bounty hunter for a bumbling fool who relied on luck alone to get him out of even the worst of situations. But today, the man had shown me a different side - a cunning, innovative side - one that garnered a great
Elsewhere...
The Capitol
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan - Government Sector
11 May 3071
____________________________
Governor Alex Ravenswood furrowed his brow as he read over the evidence presented by Grisham and myself. He offered no comment - nor was it needed - the angry emotion written across his face was indication enough as to his frame of mind. He was supremely upset, and in short order, af
The sound of footfalls on ferrocrete, coupled with the scream of the wind whipping past my ears and punctuated intermittently by the crack of gunfire, created a primal aural experience as Sam Grisham and I frantically navigated the urban jungle that was Gellen's Heights, hurtling down rubbish-strewn alleyways and across crowded squares, the latter of which emptied rapidly as each one of the invisible sniper's shots rang out. It was b
Warehouse E47
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
October 11, 3028
___________________________
"Well, uh, planning to drive it? Probably? Most likely? But get in a fight? I certainly hope not. I mean, fighting's less than optimal - right?"
I cast a glance at McKenna which carried with it a glare that could melt ferrosteel.
"I'm not the smartest man in the universe," I began, "but from my persp
Well, hello there, Steve. Welcome bwck. I take it you would like to join our fun here?
PLEASE NOTE: MERCNET IS BEING MIGRATED TO A NEW SERVER. To avoid content loss, I'm going to temporarily suspend posting until the migration is complete. The new server will include new forums. I'll PM each of the currently-active members here details about what this migration means and what steps I might need to ask you to do to migrate our current content over. More to come!
The new site is online and all content has been migrated! Rejoin the adventure at
http://www.crayven.net/mercnet/!
QUOTE(Jackson McKenna @ Oct 26 2019, 09:52 PM) [snapback]3686[/snapback]
*kicks the dust off the forums* Alright, is this thing on?
It certainly seems to be.
QUOTE(Baroness Octavia Incendio @ Oct 27 2019, 03:30 PM) [snapback]3691[/snapback]
So it begins.
Hey there! Welcome aboard!
- [ Begin Data Feed ] -
Name: Charles Edward Maxwell
Date of birth: 0729-2996
Place of Birth: Aurigan Reach (citizen of the Free Republic of Quebec, Terra)
Citizen ID # : 0892-410-5379
Age: 33 (as of 3029)
Height: 186 cm (6'2")
Weight: 74.8
The sprawling corporate headquarters of
Crayven Securities, Incorporated, located in Gellen's Heights, Sheratan,
overlooking the Gellen River.Since 1775, when Crayven Corporation founder Lord Robert Crayven looked toward the heavens a
Welcome to new members Baroness Octavia Incendio and First Mate Davy, and returning member Steve Jenkins!
QUOTE(Captain Adam Wolf @ Dec 9 2019, 08:11 PM) [snapback]3729[/snapback]
So are these boards live again? It's been a long time but it certainly seems like they are active again. Mostly just curious, came by to read up on some of the old archives after playing the new(ish) Battletech game on Steam and waiting for MW5 and was surprised to s
