As it always seems to be, we started out dirt poor and in the middle of nowhere.. We, meaning the three of us.. Theo, Malcom and me.. James Reynolds. We were all raised on Bornholm Depot, way out in Omega 15. Who knows why, but Mal's last name got misspelled on his birth certificate.. Anyways, soon as we got space-worthy, we all worked for our Father out in the scrap field, mostly out and around Bornholm, but we spent a lot of time rummaging around in Sigma 13. I was always fascinated by the old Imperial tech floating around out there, and just the massive hulls of what used to be.
For as long as I could remember, we would be out and about scanning for whatever was still worth some scratch, whatever was still working, or whatever we could tinker around with and re-sell to make a living. I was never on any of the trips out to New Berlin or any of those places where Dad sold a lot of the gadgets and equipment we salvaged, so I couldn't tell you who we were sellin' to, or even what some of the stuff was, but as long as it put food on the table, I don't think any of us especially cared. When we got enough creds together, Theo and I went out to the Battleship on the edge of the system and bought one of the smaller Turanic freighters for each of us. It wasn't much to look at, but you could fit at least ten times as much stuff in one haul, so it payed for itself pretty quickly.. Mine would get a little shaky anytime it was anywhere near cruise speed, not to mention the sound.... or the smell.
After we scrounged up enough cash, we were able to finally set Mal up in a real mining ship.. Hold so big it echoed for days, compared to the hunk o' junk we had to ding around in before.
Scrap mining was going good, selling at 500 credits a pop home at the Depot, and we were able to sock away a nice little stash of credits from our business around Bornholm. Then one day while we were out in Sigma 13 looking for some parts that we could sell to our "less than reputable" clients, Theo and I hit Jackpot. Two banged-up Imperial Navy gunships drifting out behind one of the Battleship wrecks, ours for the taking.. We went ahead and hired a pair of Heavy Lifters out of Berlin to tow them just over to Yanagi Depot, where we had some old family friends that would keep an eye on them until we figured out what we were going to do with them.
At first, I thought we would just see who would be willing to buy these babies, considering that they were mostly intact.. Maybe try and sell them to an antique dealer, or a museum, or something like that, but after so many times in the past of the Hessians coming around, demanding our cargo, credits for some "protection fee", I think we were all just fed up of being pushed around..
This was our break.. Between the two of us, I'd say we spent at least 80 mil fixing them up.. buying parts wherever we could find them, salvaging what would fit.. We still had to bribe people left and right to get some of the equipment for it. Some old "acquaintances" with the Blood Dragons finally came through with some ancient-looking rusted Dragonfly missle turrets we could have, "For the right price" of course..
Neither one of the boats had much on it when we found 'em, just that big honking gun nailed down on to the nose of the ship, and a handful of the secondary turrets, which either needed some major overhaul, or just needed to be replaced by whatever we could get our hands on. Had a lot of missing bulkheads, and more leaks than you could put a finger on, but once I stepped foot on that bridge, I knew this was my boat.. It wasn't pretty by any means of the word, but it was all mine.. There was a plaque next to the Captains chair that read "K-156", and just that it was a Medusa class "Kanonenboot" from the days of the Old Imperial Navy. I decided to name it the "RNF Schutz", even though neither one of us had ever been in the Navy. I just thought it fit. It means Protector, and I intended to make it live up to its new name. Theo named his "General Disarray". Made me smile, anyways.
Now-a-days we just work for ourselves, or whoever pays better. The Bounty Hunters definitely pay more to a Mercenary than they do some Junker fresh out of the Scrap Yard. Still get a lot of strange looks wherever we land, with everybody surprised to see these two buckets-of-bolts park on their pad.. Maybe they're just surprised that they fly at all.. heh.. We still hang out around Bornholm with our brother Malcom, keeping the Hessians off his back, and helping out any other Junkers we see out and around.
Gotten to know a few good people in the trading business, and ran across a few unsavory pirates, so I guess we'll see where life takes us from here...
Oh, and I got the nickname "Trigger" from an incident involving a plasma cutter and an ammobag..
We don't talk about that anymore.