Jose Marie sat in the Malta bar, quietly drinking his pint and studying the piece of paper that he had taken pen to just a few moments earlier. He quickly once overed the scribbled words:
"But for what reason?" cried a voice from over Jose's shoulder.
Jose turned round to find himself looking at his good friend Miguel Marron, a drug hardened Outcast true and true.
"Imposters sir, did you not hear on the radio as we came in last night? They only claim to be Outcasts for their own monetary and material gain. Chrsti, they arnt even flying Outcast ships! But, Outcast or not the Outcast badge's they wear mean that technically they are out of our range, however, other men can do the job we are not allowed to do ourselves."
Miguel was mildly amused at the way fate had cruelly turned against the hapless pilots of the aforementioned ships.
And so the 2 quietly left the bar, and headed to their respective homes for some rest. On the way out, Jose slipped the barkeep the note, which has now been forwarded on to the "correct people".
OoC: I'm gonna hope one is allowed to respond to this RP-style... So.... Here Khleo has recieved this message.
Khleo mused over the new message. Memorizing the named written on the message he intercepted over the comms. "Ten million, huh? Wonder what they did..."
Without further thought, he powered up the Sklave's engines. The hunt begins.
The light crusier Talarca was drinking some ale at the Freeport 11 bar when he saw the bar man put a paper up on the bounty hunter window, which was empty for a preety big time now. Everybody quickly gathered around it. Spider walked up to the bounty, and read it. "Hey... I saw that guy when I was travelling through Alaska" he muttered. As a corsair, this was a good chance to kill his enemy, AND get some money. Spider turned, and proceeded to the launch bay.
Evil The Badger sat at his usual alcove in the homely bar hidden away deep inside Kyoto. He watched as the news unfolded concerning the Kusari Government and ongoing Tau and Civil wars. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar figure appear from the dusty entrance corridor, his favourite mission controller Mika. He moved his attention away from the screen as she passed a small scrap of paper across the table towards him.
Evil read the note with a smirk, then screwing it up and dropping it onto a nearby candle where it promptly disintegrated to a small pile of ash floating in the wax. He looked up again at Mika, a knowing smile on her ever-cheery face. Jestfully he spoke: "Those cardamine-fiends sure know how to throw a party."
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