Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Printable Version

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Printable Version

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+--- Thread: Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment (/showthread.php?tid=65928)

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Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Silver - 10-01-2011

Sammy.

*Lights up a cigar*

Where the frack have you been?
I told ya, indies get smoked or bored.

*Smokes*

Guess you got the second one.

*Smirks*

You know the place and the people.
Grab your gear and bunk up.
Your color is still your color.

Tell the chief you'll need new transponders.

I'll see at the bar, kiddo.
Silver.

[Image: commslinkend.png]

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Berny - 10-02-2011

Target: [color=#FFFFFF] MM~Jatne.Rayshe'a
Payment: trust by signing a hunter's contract
Payment to: [color=#33ff00]S.A.2
Background: an old retired miner, that sold all mining machinery and was exploring space for a couple of years. Got into numerous fights, lost nearly all the cash and started killing for credits. Gets paid few times for protection against pirates.
And here it begins: once a pon a time, nameless miner takes down a mandalorian, brings his head to the Reavers and waits for response. In case of telling his name he just shows an old mining ship codename... and picture
At the meeting: ah aint got much left anyways. No kids, no relations. Mah papa got robbed and killed by mollies. Just let me at them... and their friends... and some others... as it's fun...
Ahha, there's a problem: to be trigger happy I'll need credits... and better equipment... Lemme sign this contract alright?

Brought some documents:
1 mah ID
2 Guns load-out

Wanna see mah trigger happy results? Here's one:
3 target's ID
4 Burning mandalorian
5 Timestamp
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]*Mysterious silence appears. Old miner lights up a cigar and continues*
[color=#ffffff]Will ya let an old man live his last days happy? Trigger happy at least? Near ya targets if ya desire so...

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Dusty Lens - 10-02-2011

Just so I can reconstruct the medley of color in front of me, I take it you wanna sign on and shoot things until your ticker goes ex underscore ex and you're bringing us a Mando's head as proof of concept?

Here's the thing. We're trigger happy, but where it counts. If you're looking to shoot for personal ambition you'll like as not find that what's being shot is your unwilling person from one of our fine airlocks.

So, reckon you've got the discipline to keep the grudges in the holster?

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Berny - 10-02-2011

[color=#000000]

Quote:you're bringing us a Mando's head as proof of concept

Proof? It only proves Ahm not afraid to shoot a live man. But this time it was brought as application's approval payment. Yah can call it a bribe or a first job, Ah don't really care.

Quote:We're trigger happy, but where it counts

Ahm too old to be trigger happy everywhere, especially where it doesn't count, so let's say this part is fine.

Quote: If you're looking to shoot for personal ambition you'll like as not find that what's being shot is your unwilling person from one of our fine airlocks.

Didn't understand anything in this part. Can you talk a little bit slower and louder? Mah hearing's a bit rusty these days.

Quote:"So, reckon you've got the discipline to keep the grudges in the holster?"

Ahm an ex miner - mah job thought me the patience while searching for the most profitable rocks and not wasting energy and machinery on worthless ones.
Also, those small profitable rocks thought me how to aim and shoot mining lasers right - you miss a single degree and rock doesn't get tractor-beamed into mah load - here's your proof I'm suitable for this job.

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Dusty Lens - 10-03-2011

Color us curious. Head over to the Blood Money on the DSE Armstrong in Coronado and Silver'll size you up some. I'm currently detained on business abroad. Silver's the mean drunk who'll be growling at nothing in particular.

While I've not experienced it personally word on the street has it that she does bite, so mind yourself.

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Berny - 10-03-2011

Message received.
----
Location: Survey Vessel Armstrong
Room number: 7
From: S.A.2 (some old retired miner)
----
[color=#000000]
Ahm at your desired location. Silver's not here yet. Gonna live a day or two in this base - wine's great in here.

Oh, and Ah brought a new ship Ah found and bought on the way - Moldy Crow - it reminded mah first Mining ship - cheap, agile and way too big for it's class, but does the job. Main difference is just that it's covered with some old rusty metal not the dust.

And tell Silver to ask for an old miner at the bar, when she'll gona visit that base - waitress will know who is she looking for.

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Walker - 10-07-2011

Incoming Transmission

[font=Agency FB]

[color=#FFFFFF]SOURCE: [color=#FF0000]Planet Curacao, Cortez
TARGET: Reaver Mercenary Co.
COMM ID: Tiberius Walker
SUBJECT: Asylum

I've been lied to, taken advantage of, shot in the back, shot in the front, stabbed, betrayed, and left for dead. I even lost my job. Not recently though, in fact, it was sometime last year. Such is highly regrettable as they had an excellent mental health program. But I've been up and down this effable pocket of space, and I've seen things that would make those sniveling psychologists descend into lunacy. I'm tired of the bureaucracy of politics. I'm tired of the complicated life. I'm tired of being pushed around by pencil-jocking dirtbags in some nine by five cubicle on Newark. I spent my entire career officially being and getting nowhere.

I got burned by a punch of pathetic punks. I have no credits, no identity, no history. I might as well be dust in the wind. Quite frankly, I was the top agent in the Liberty Security Force, I'm not simply satisfied with rolling over and dieing in some forsaken abyss. I've watched Mercenaries go to and fro, I've watched them scuttle from one little hole to another. All the while they were nothing more than professional murderers and they took their blood money and impious risks and soon died. But you know what is funny? Not one of 'em ever pulled a trigger. Not guilty at all- Never had anything to do with it. Nothing touched the trigger but the Devil's right hand. But they profited from their deeds just the same, despite them being not the one to blame. All the while I was stuck being played. I ran here, ran there, did this, did that, arrested this, shot at that.

Heck, I'm getting older. I'm tired of having my life siphoned away by the boorish avarice of society and propria. I want to start working for my own benefit, not for the benefit of some suit. I'm willing to cast my lots in with a bunch of inane and clinically psychotic mercenaries to make a few bucks for the sake of it. I really don't care if I'm risking being stabbed in the middle of the night because the voices in someone's head tells them to. At least I know the deal that I'm getting straight up. None of this subtle Machiavellian maneuvering and craft that has gripped everything else. People pay you, you kill stuff. End of story. Dream Job. Sinecure.

You have one of the most highly qualified applicants rusting away in front of you. Normally, the voice in your head, the one in concinnity with what we call reason, would tell you to take him.

[font=Agency FB]

[color=#FF0000]Transmission Terminated

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Dusty Lens - 10-07-2011

Well, well, well, well.

How the wheel turns. Tiberius frikin Walker. Never would have reckoned in my wildest to see your visage perched atop such a soul rending bowl 'o tears, but should I have been pressed I imagine I'd just as likely be seeing Hale himself asking for employ before any of you and yours from the LSF.

Now here's a thing. I'm not all that fussy personally about thumbing my nose at Liberty. There's a fair few of us in the Reaver ranks who, like as not, have a fair bit of history of nose thumbing. But we're small fry, so I'm not shocked when some agent doesn't slip one betwixt my ribs while I'm heading out for the evening to do some window shopping.

But I once read a spy novel that suggested that high ranking officials of government agencies who've sauteed just about darn near every dirty government secret in their brainpan don't get to just retire and sign off with a bunch of hired guns in the borderworlds. Not without some body coming along to nuke said fellow and everyone he mighta passed some word about covert operations of David Hale's secret gold treasure buried on Maine.

So, what's the story with your so called retirement. A fair few of the details were lost between the bits where you mentioned something about the devil and a few, I must say, frankly hurtful comments about the character of our respective persons.

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Walker - 10-07-2011

Buffering Current Transmission

[font=Agency FB]

[color=#FFFFFF]SOURCE: [color=#FF0000]Planet Curacao, Cortez
TARGET: Reaver Mercenary Co.
COMM ID: Tiberius Walker
SUBJECT: Asylum

I can assure you, if there was a secret stash of Molly Gold hidden on Maine owned by Admiral Hale, it is long gone by now. How else do you think I've been 'supportin myself?

Jesting aside.

Do you know how many impudent whelps decide to flaunt Liberty law and peruse restricted areas at their leisure? Why, I can name quite a few, and the list keeps on growing daily. I once in fact, suggested that we divine the identity of these individuals and go after them, their family, their children, their children's children, so forth, etc. However, the High Command did not see it that way and instead was complacent to simply lollygag around while blatant obscenities were being shown through every known medium of communication.

My stint at the LSF got terminated yester year, all I did was grab a few things of mine and head off to the Borderworlds. Ain't no-one ever followed me, quite a few made trouble with me, quite a few are now also atomized photons. But no one from Liberty is or was ever 'lookin around for me.

As for 'losin everything when I was burned. That was a contingency plan put in for every Agent in case things ever go south. That way, they're not coming back and making trouble with the agency and can easily be dismissed as nothing. However, it is cheerful to know that loss of all identity aside, that my name still holds some weight to it.

My "retirement" was something of an enigma wrapped in a tasty bagel with sunbucks spilled on it. I ended up going toe to toe with the wrong man for his misdeeds. That man was that bumbling CEO of the Kings of Freight, Chakotay. Apparently, he assumed that his high position granted him leave to do whatever he so wished. I didn't see it that way, neither did a few other Agents. The insufferable lout ended up summoning half of the KoF escorts in the system who promptly opened fire on us, and we had one of the largest shoot outs since Edison Trent and Jun'ko Zane ran the dragnet a few decades ago. Eventually we caught up with him outside of Norfolk and attempted to detain him... He was less than cooperative.

So with an Agent in critical care and with a few bystanders dead, I marched down to Manhattan to the Tribunal Office and filed for every single pejorative thing that I could. Arrest warrants, suspension of franchise, expatriation, I levied fine after fine. Heck, if amende honorable was an option, I might've done that too. I ended up levying the full weight of the law down on the KoF- I was hell bent on making sure that sissy little corporate dirtbags understand the penal system.

Unfortunately, after I had walked out of the Office and had sent various communiques around, someone in High Command didn't see things my way. They ended up revoking everything that I had filed for, post-approval, and claiming that I was blatantly abusing my authority and overstepping it. Of course, I ain't one to be pushed around so I let that person know my displeasure... I got released for unprofessional conduct unbecoming of a member of the LSF.

If the Liberty Govt. wanted me dead; I'd be dead if I just was some yellow gutless invertebrate wimp. But I ain't, and being me, if I had a bunch of Men in Black chasing after me- I likely wouldn't be applying. But I'd be tucked away in the deepest recesses of the Taus with a small private army and an exotic Rheinland dancer named Hilga. Instead, I'm sipping Sidewinder Fang at some Spa on Curacao and watching the Sunset.

As for insulting and disparaging remarks regarding your personnel, branding someones eyes and sending them to help the fantastic Angry Farmers of Kusari with their hands tied to their oxiput is somewhat extreme. However, I recall using the term clinically insane. Which, according to the Hammer Medical Clinic on Manhattan, I am as well. If you find yourself hurt because you meet the criterion of some crackpot doctors theory rather than actuality, then I suggest you take it up with him.

As for true insanity, that is something else entirely. If you would excuse me, Hilga is having a problem with the dinner arrangements...

[font=Agency FB]

[color=#FF0000]Transmission Terminated

Reaver Merc. Co. Recruitment - Silver - 10-07-2011

Oh... Oh... Oh...

*Lights up a cigar*

Aren't you the feisty one.
I mean, a veritable ol' school copper showing up on my doorstep.
I feel shinny right now..
Don't you feel shinny too?

*Smirks*

I bet you do.
Comin' here all blister and bull.

*Smokes*

I do bull from time to time, but yer kind...
Damn, i haven't seen that kind for a loooooong time.

And that kind is the one that rubs me in the wrong way, Jose.

Let me talk to a little someone i know...
Well...
How do i put this politely?

*Exhales the smoke*

I don't trust yer knickers. And you.
But don't worry.. We'll get back at ya in a jiff.

Have a nice dinner and shiz.

By the way..
Madness.. Is what we live in.

*Grins*

Silver.

[Image: commslinkend.png]