"Time to get ready, people. Transfer all power from the cruise engines to the core and recharge our weapons. We are in Omicron Lost, empty system so report anything flying in our scanner range. We are awaiting our loyal friends and guests, make sure they are alive and prepare our docking bays for their arrival."
Lucia Nielsen, Ex-criminal, Ex-The Core Guild Mistress and current The Core fugitive, Commanding officer of the Core Naval Ship called Kilimanjaro and leader of so called "Templars", ordered and slowly sat down on her chair, just looking around and watching her loyal people taking care of ship systems, engines, weapons, systems and so on. Few minutes later she got up and slowly walked away from the bridge to the elevator one of the two entrances to the bridge of Kilimanjaro. One minute in the elevator before she arrived to the meeting room with small bar in the corner, one long table and 15 chairs around it. Also few bowls filled with fruit, bottles of random booze from the Sirius, empty plates and one huge window, where planet Moros can be seen behind the window.
"I need to contact my loyal Templars and invite them here, talk about plans and our future..."
She thought loudly and slowly left the meeting room untouched, heading to the bridge now. However this time she used stairs and walked to the Comm system and its officer. After a while with a loud sigh she sat down on her chair again, awaiting ships of her loyal templars to appear on the screen.
"Atomic" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
A contact would would pop up on scanners. While this ship was not originally part of the Core| itself, this man was from an outside faction who used to be loyal to the Core some time in the past. At first it seemed all fine and dandy when the bomber closed in. Then one would notice an over zealous amount of artillery and explosives that either was equipped on the bomber or stored away into its cargo bay. There was painting on the side of its hull that showed an artillery cannon blasting off into the sky on both sides with the words 'Atomic' under the emblem of the bomber.
"This is Hunterson, anyone copy? I'm carrying my rather 'normal' payload to its intended designation....wait..." the comms fell dead before cutting back in to show a Libertionan man in his early twenties, black hair that reached to his shoulders and enough armaments in the background that would put a small black market to shame. "Oh right! So this is the right area!" He proclaimed loudly as the bomber closed in. It flew close to the Bullhead and waited for docking permission before proceeding to land.
"AP-540392" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
Once he landed, he motioned to the crew members in the area "The weapons, bombs, torpedoes, explosives and all that stuff in the back of my bomber are for everyone here and part of this, please take care of them and if possible, find a storage area for them!"
He turned and started looking around for where the heck he was going in the first place before proceeding to the meeting area. The man at this range carried enough explosives on his person to be called the bomber man himself, around five C4's around his hips and pockets, breaching charges and grenades and satchel charges in other pockets on him or just attached in some odd way. To finalize what else he had, there was a ten meter grenade propeller on his back with a short ranged rocket grenade propeller as well.
Before entering the meeting room however, he spent a good ten to fifteen minutes disarming himself and giving all armaments to the crew members outside the room before proceeding inside, managing to take up about four to five boxes of storage things outside the room. He looked around the ship "Fancy, the men I used to fly with only used bombers and the assorted gunship artillery, never seen a capital class this close now." looking around before sitting "Now, where is the others I wonder..." he muttered to himself
"AP-200039" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822 "Alright boys, we're almost there. Make one last long range scan and make sure nobody has followed us."
This is Samuel Carter, first an Ex-Mercenary trying to win his existance, Ex-Core Paladin, Captain of a Core| Destroyer class Vessel, also known as "Thresher", and now a man who seeks revenge for the way he's been trated within The Core, even after all he did for it. Currently in his Bottlenose, he remained a bit thoughtful as he was getting closer to the meeting point.
"No one has followed us, we're good." Said his right hand, William Marshall. Good guy, very loyal and a close friend of Carter's since the day they met. After about 10 minutes of flight, a contact popped up on the scanner, "Kilimanjaro".
"There it is... Put me in contact with it" Said Carter as he stood up from his chair. "Hello there, this is Carter, i believe somebody is expecting me so there's no time to waste."
As the Bottlenose was stationed, Carter walked to the exit then looked at Will. "Here we go, wish me luck." He looked and walked around for a few good minutes then noticed a large room where a young looking man was sitting, he then walked towards it and proceeded inside. "This must be the meeting room... I'm impressed." He looked around a bit then walked towards the table, looking at that man again. "Your face doesn't seem very familiar, let me introduce myself. I'm Carter, Samuel Carter." He shoke his hand and sat down.
"AP-540392" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
The Libertion man turned and smiled "Names Hunterson Endsvill." taking and shaking Carters hand with a rather strong grip, there was a smell of gunpowder, smoke and a few other things coming from his person at close range but nothing to major it seemed "Ya, I used to work for a sub group of the Core, we mainly launched attacks into Omicron ninety nine and attacked their war ship classes, made good money till the higher ups decided to keep it all for themselves, outcast-ed me and my fellow wing mates, many either feel in line with other military's or other things...happened to them." He sighed but shook his head, taking something from his pocket and opening a small box "Got these off a Coalitioner that was floating around Delta." there were finely wrapped cigars in the small box, Hunterson taking one out and offering it to Carter "Don't worry, you can have it for nothin, I got an extra box in the back of the Atomic."
He took out one himself and lit it, leaning back on the chair and waited for the others to show up "Ahhhh.." he stated as he let out a break of smoke into the air. "Wonderful feeling, beats carpet bombing nomadic capital things any day to be honest." he cracked up for a moment before leaning back once more, turning to Carter "Tell me about yourself, I've not gotten the pleasure to meet anyone else yet besides the miss." Turning his chair and looking at him
"AP-540392" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
Carter looked at him a bit curiously. [color=#ff6600]"It's a pleasure to meet you... Hunter, can i call you Hunter?" He chuckled and leaned on his back and relaxed as he was listening to Hunterson's story. "Hmph, i'd lie if i said i'm surprised... These people need to pay big time for all the lifes they wasted just for their on interest, like they almost did to me and my crew." He sighed too then took the cigar and lit it. "Thank you. This one is alright, i would've loved it even more if it had some Marijuana in it though... Wonderful feeling indeed though" He leaned back again, chuckling and playing with the smoke he was letting out in the air.
"That makes two of us" He chuckles I'm in my early 30s, from Liberty, Los Angeles to be more precise. I used to be a Mercenary, secretly killin' people for the government 'till i decided to visit these weird places... A lot of stuff happened ever since then." He took a large hit from the cigar, looking a bit angry this time. "The Core saved my ass from the Nomads and since that day i served them proudly, mainly because i felt like i owned them. I served enough 'till Nodtviet promoted me to Paladin and allowed me to use one of them sexy Threshers. That was all until about 4 months ago, when he outcast-ed me and my people too for no known reason, forgetting about the ships and the troubles he'd get over himself which is funny. What a fool... But i do believe he enjoyed my recent help, although... I regret not letting him burn like he deserved." He took another hit and turned to see Hunter. "Story of my life but i believe everything happens for a reason... What about yourself?"
"Spindrifter" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822 "A bit late." Austin gave a glance at the monitor on his ships display. "Better than never." Quickly shifting his look to the scanner's monitor, activating it. "Let's have a look then.." The results showed two major vessels a Destroyer and a Battlecruiser, that were standing next to the old abandoned colonial depot. "That must be them." Austin pushed the throttle levers forwards, and activating cruise engines double timing it in their direction.
">: This is Austin Bellier, resuesting to dock.."
"AP-540392" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
His bomber got locked in the docking bay. At once he took off his helmet and jumped out. First person to come in front of him was the docking master and Austin went on and greeted him, with as simple "Howdy."
Quickly without loosing too much time he gave a glance to the ship's map, and made his way through the ship's corridors. "So this oughta be the meeting room.." ran into his thoughts as he walked inside to notice the two, Hunter and Carter. "Well. Hello. You guys must be.."
"AP-540392" - Omicron Lost - 03/24/822
Hunter seems to think before leaning back "I might sound like I'm from planet Hudson in Texas but believe it or not, I'm from Planet Denver. Now, I lived a rather peaceful young life there, its one of the...two? Ya two I think planets that remains untouched by war and fighting, not even Planet Cali Minor is that lucky." He pause seeing the other man enter the room and motioned for him to sit with them, offering him a cigar soon after just like he did with Carter before continuing to speak "I fell in line with the LSF actually for a short time, mainly protecting some special convoys in 'restricted space' so to speak, or so they said anyways." he took a long drag from the cigar before speaking once more "That's when it happened, I got separated from my wing mates during one of the patrols when of them nomad guardian classes decloaked and attacked with a full wing at its side. That's where the nickname came in." Pausing and looking at the ceiling "I fled to Omicron Minor where the Order was none to happy to see me, forcing me to fend off both them and the nomads before eventually getting to the point I had to start bombing my way out, launching torpedoes and missiles into tightly packed groups and disabling them, pushing forward into Delta when it used to connect to Minor and that's when I was picked up by the group I used to be a part of." Looking at both of them again "He still fought our way to the Core station out there, tooth and nail, lost two bombers and nearly myself during the entire thing; I earn the 'title' after carpet bombing one of the Irra class nomads with three others before we successfully got back to Daru and landed."
He looked between them both "That day on, we launched surgical strikes into Omicron ninty nine, mainly against the nomad warship classes, many fell but we lost some good people during it all...eventually we got back stabbed by those funding us, black mailing us to where we had to hide and flee. The miss found me and a few wing mates and took us in, sending me a note that this meeting was going on, and here I am." He looked at the new comer "What about you lad, whats your story?"