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I heard that anyone who can kill Silver Reaver gets an instant in.

Rorry:


Sweet --> KABOOM
Mamo a Mano, the Renegade's great pilot, Thanatos, has won... Where does he sign up? laughs


Transmission Ends

If we let in every jackass who fried one of Silver's DUI wagons we could populate the next sleeper ship and venture off to find a life of peace and plenty.

Rorry:


Fair enough, guess we'll just keep killing Reavers then... spits


Transmission Ends

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Four slots will be open to any and all.
Those four will trade death in a 'training' bounty.

Needless to say.
The best merc wins.

There will be a chance for the ones that failed to re-apply, but only thrice.
On the third failure, you're out and you should get a day job. Like a toilet-lady, exotic dancer or something.
There's a vast job opportunity in the pillow making business as well.

----Rules----

• The Reaver. Merc. Co. reserves the right to put a bullet into your brain, your stomach and shove a living snake up your behind at any given time.
  
  
• No shooting between 'trainee' Reavers while on hunting.
  Out of it, you can squirm, punch, kick and bite your ears off.
  We're trying to install a healthy cooperative mercenary business here.
  
  
• Trainees will have access to some of our weaponry and tech.
  
  
• Only four slots at a time.
  
  
• Sh** happens.
  
  
• Trainees will have to follow our naming convention. That means we get to name your hide.
  
  
• 3rd strike, you're out for good.
  
  
• Trainees cannot get in the way of Malachite's carnal appetites.
  
  
• Trainees will help Cobalt with his Dual Nova target practice.
  
  
• They will be at a 50 feet minimum distance from the Company Boss, at all times.
  If not, the boss will rip you a new one, burn your eyes with the $_$ brand and tell you to help the fantastic Angry Farmers of Kusari. With your hands tied to your ears.
  
  
• *Sighs* And you will kneel to Zod.
  
  
• Pass the most important sandwich construction test.
  

There might be some extra rules. We don't want to scare you lot with the serious stuff.

Reaver Merc. Co.

Jack Slade looks over the Reavers channel. A nude woman lays in the bed behind him, her body covered here and there with sheets. A cold beer rests at his side...<div align="right]
he gives a slight nod "Reavers...."
looks back "Pumpkin, the place is yours, tell Rocco he can keep his f****** terofoils, but I better get my credits or I'll be back for him...
Right... Now then, Reavers: Where do I get started?"

~ Slade

Slade shakes his head with a slight smirk as he signs off on his "Change of Transponder" papers, the crew in the back group are loading up his newly received Corsair weapons.<div align="right]
he speaks to himself I'll be buying rounds for weeks once the boys back home hear about this one... Let's just get this one going, maybe I'll be able to get a stable job with these fellas. No more running around for every man that has the leverage against me...

Message Begins
Alright Boss, my Talon is up and running. I'm not big on words so I'll be short. What now?

~ Slade

Adrian Strauss opens up his console, he begins to send a message to the Reaver Head Quarters.

Now... I've never been one for formalities, so I'll just spit it out. My name is Adrian Strauss, I'm a Rheinlander, and I'd like to join the Reavers.

As for job qualifications, as I'm sure you wouldn't want some random Joe who hasn't flown a ship out of flight school, I've done Mercenary/Freelance work around Sirius for decades now. I've decided I'd 'settle down' and apply for the Mercenary group that most interests me at the moment.

My neuralnet ID should be embedded within this message, for when you need to reply.