Jack Whitley

Elsewhere......December 7... "He called in and reported that it worked. The copy of that shit they played on our ship worked on them just as good." said Edgar. "Great. I wonder if it took out that fucking peroxide-haired chippie that's running the show." I growled. "A chippie?" Edgar asked. "Yeah." I said, tapping the side of my head. "A person with mods. Implants. Augments. Meat processors." I answered, tapping the side of my head for emphasis. "Chippies aren't always the most stable people." "Wow. I bet you could make mad cash on the body bank market for that." Edg

A pleasure! Bwaa haa haa haa haa,...

DropShip Kusanagi En route to JumpShip Aquila High orbit of Outreach October 25, 3028 _____________________________ CONFIRM NETWORK MONITORING DISABLE? I stared blankly at the prompt which had appeared, unsolicited, on my terminal. "Rider. What the hell is this garbage?" I grumbled, gesturing at my terminal and glaring at my executive officer. "Uhh - I didn't do that," Edgar replied, squinting at the display. I clicked the 'NO' option, dismissing the prompt. CONFIRM NETWORK MONITORING DISABLE? "There it is again!" I exclaimed, slapping the arm of my chair.

"What do you MEAN you took the offer?" I hissed. "Why wasn't I brought into that conversation?" Edgar glowered at me from the vidlink. "Because it was one hundred and five percent of our pay, and we don't even have to go anywhere. I couldn't imagine you not saying yes." "It wasn't about the pay alone," I seethed. "Didn't you read the contract? The kid was being sent after LosTech, and we could have gotten serious intel from his movements and his BattleMech logs! It's called intangible benefits, and you just let them walk away!" "Okay, I get it, I'm sorry. I thought that being pa

Military Depot 187 Outskirts of Gellen's Heights, Sheratan February 24, 3029 _______________________________ "All right, cadre, come to order." The crisp voice of Major Walker of the Tikonov Republican Guards echoed across the briefing hall, reducing the lively chatter of the gathered recruits to soft murmurs, then whispers, and finally, silence. "Over the last nine weeks, we've taught you the military pinciples of the Tikonov Free Republic. We've given you key doctrine training from the Sarna Martial Academy; we've shown you the strategies of the masters from the Capellan Confederat