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Nathan Schmidt

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Nathan Schmidt last won the day on November 22

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  1. Berth 59 - CSV Half Moon Gellen's Heights spaceport Gellen's Heights, Sheratan III March 11, 3029 ______________________________________________________ "What about those Aegis Division guys? They looked like they had a pretty solid FBO setup back there. Maybe they could analyze it? Charles Maxwell seems like a straight shooter. They have a medical robot that's pretty high tech. I think it's got some kind of diagnoser on board." I wondered aloud. "They're hired guns, not scientists." Bishop replied. "If you had bullets in your blood stream, they could probably diagnose that. I'
  2. Meanwhille... I sat quietly, letting Bishop's words sink in. His response had been unbelievable cordial and understanding....much more than I deserved. It also was an adjustment hearing him speak at length. Most of my previous encounters with him had been when he was...joined...with his suit, and in those moments, he seemed hollow...robotic....like his spirit was absent. Even his eyes would glaze over and look distant. But now, Bishop seemed firey and full of life. "I'm humbled, Bishop. I really am. Honored, in fact. You're the embodiment of everything that I picture when I think of
  3. Elsewhere... The Crayven Corporation SUV wound its way back through the streets of Gellen's Heights' industrial district as a light drizzle of rain started to move in. I looked toward the river, occasionally visible through openings in the dense buildings. The reflections of the towering buildings in the commercial district on its far shore shimmered on the water's surface as though they were distant mirages of a life I'd never have. My eyes traced upwards to follow an enormous cargo Zeppelin that plied its way over the gigantic suspension bridge connecting both shores, while underneath,
  4. Elsewhere... I listened intently as Bishop initiated the exchange with DiForenza. There was a universal code of ethics that you followed - or so I was told - if you wanted to be trusted and successful in illicit arms deals. The key principle was to never directly say what you were after, and to always navigate the deal as though the walls had ears, even if you were standing around in someone's obviously government-sanctioned gun dungeon while the arms merchant himself cradled a Pancor Jackhammer machine shotgun that was a felony to possess on fifteen worlds. It was the common thread that
  5. After confirming with Nikki that I'd be coming by today and agreeing on a time, Bishop and I chatted about the logistics. He wanted to buy arms on the way out to the spaceport, and I frankly had a feeling I'd turned a corner and would need some personal defense from here on out. Problem was, going to a reputable place was now out of the question for me, and for all I knew, not something Bishop cared to do either. I also didn't want to flag on any of the shit lists that I was presumably now on. Luckily for the both of us, there was a place I knew of that neither the LIC nor the Capellans
  6. I walked out of the depths of the DropShip and into the sunlight. It was an interesting gathering, almost like the awards ceremony from a week ago had just moved outside. Alyssa Chase was holding court with Captain Maxwell while William Kauffman, flanked by two of his escorts who were carrying an outlandish number of suitcases, traded comments with that corporate attorney, Christopher Drake, who I had dealt with earlier. There was also a new person present, someone rough-and-tumble looking who had rolled up on a triped motorbike that looked like something out of the post-apocalyptic times.
  7. I stared from the window of the Republic, looking through my field glasses, as the VTOL set down. Initially I'd thought that it was the Crayven Corporation chopper come to pick up William. But there was no logo on the hull. Also, red carpet....decidedly not William's style. I had a sinking feeling that this visit had to do with something else. My comm unit suddenly crackled with a message from Bishop Weyland to Captain Maxwell. "Maxwell.... this Weyland...on gun, on glass and target locked. I’ll engage on your command.” Jesus Christ... I thought to myself. We just hit the dirt
  8. Meanwhile, aboard the Mendacius.... As fast as the impromptu awards ceremony had come together, it was over again. The crew dispersed and went their separate ways, and I was left there holding the awards and trying to process what the hell had just taken place. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't ungreatful, but it hadn't been that long ago that instead of being handed war decorations by the mysterious CEO of the company, I was sitting in his holding cell eating an MRE with a cardboard spork and periodically getting interrogated by Major Hayes, a legal adjutant, and some kind of screwed up chat
  9. Meanwhile... BeeDooo...beep BeeDooo...beep BeeDooo...beep "You have gotta be fuggin' kidding me...." I groaned, slapping my hand around on the accessory stand in my bunk, looking for my communicator. Eventually finding it, I stared at its blazingly-bright screen in a half tired, half drunken stupor for what seems like about half a minute before I hit the talk button. "Schmidt... what is it?" I mumbled. "This is Captain Maxwell." the voice replied. "Major Hayes and I need you to come to Med Bay." "Right now?" I asked, still not fully awake. "Yes, plea
  10. Elsewhere on the Mendacius... I didn't know quite what to make of Steve's party. One minute, he was stumbling in drunkenly, holding himself while doing poses that were vaguely reminiscent of a Michael Jackson video, Then, he was up on the bar, jumping around and kicking over the food products in the process. A number of really nutty stunts later, Jenkins had given himself laxatives, set a nest of 'murder hornets' free on the ship, and had gone screaming out of the mess hall while being chased by the wasps, all while his pockets were exploding as a result of being filled to overflowing w
  11. A heavy thunk thunk thunk of booted feet coming up a metal ramp behind me caused me to turn around to find the souurce of the noise. I looked just in time to see 4 Crayven marines stomping up the ramp, two of them had the Capellan guy we left behind in the cargo bay full of pigs in custody, and the other two were escorting a really beat up looking and possibly not fully conscious woman with a slender build and of Asian descent. With them was Bishop Weyland, who though injured badly with a cut and a nasty gunshot wound, was walking purposefully with them like nothing was wrong at all. I nudged
  12. A visibly shellshocked Major Hayes eased me to the deck as I slowly lowered the firearm. Rotating the handgun in my grip, I offered it back to the Major. "Uhh - keep it for now. Your laser rifle didn't fare as well as you evidently did." Hayes replied. "How did you...?" "My armor must have caught the round and I probably blacked out after that." I answered. The Major quickly shook his head as he moved to kneel beside William Kauffman. "I saw you get shot. That round entered your chest and exited out your back. That was no armor hit. You went down. I thought you were going to die
  13. Flashes of light Echoes...muffled words A blurry room A loud bang Flying I'm standing atop a skyscraper on Donegal. The city stretches out before me in all directions. It's nighttime, but the sun shines brightly and a warm wind blows noisily. I'm on the bridge of the Half Moon A forest of trees rise on either side. Major Hayes is sitting in the captain's chair. Glaring at me. I'm back on Donegal. The wind blows. I take a step onto the ledge of the skyscraper and look down at the traffic rushing by below. I'm standing in a farmer's field on She
  14. It all happened in an instant. The first crew member I ran into was a woman I didn't recognize. She certainly wasn't from our crew. I knew this for two reasons. One, she was dressed as a regular civilian, and two, she had a high caliber firearm trained directly on me. In an instant, I realized that I had inadvertently stumbled behind enemy lines, instead of back to my own unit. Scowling at me, the woman said nothing, but gestured at my laser rifle, indicating that I should set it loose. I hesitated for a moment, to which she responded by brandishing the weapon as though she intended to pull
  15. Klaxons echoed through the ship's corridors and frenzied shouts reverberated off the conduit's thick walls as I dodged and evaded the maelstrom of weapons fire that crashed down around me. The thick blue smoke billowing from the Crayven grenade toss - I wasn't sure who threw it - cast a heavy blanket of blindness between the two sparring forces, muzzle flashes and laser fire flashing through the maelstrom. With the number of shots that were flying wide between both sides, I had a feeling that everyone was firing in the general direction of where each side was, the robots included. My big conce
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