The last half-year in Tau-23 was without a shred of doubt the most troubled yet most successful time i ever had in the Tau systems. As i arised to the rank of Colonel, i also was granted the honor to be a member of the Quorum. One of the twelve advisors and leaders of the Colonials at the time. Although the President was the figure head of the government, we in the Quorum had a level of power that restricted very much the decision making process at that time, something that me and Paul Atreides, a true friend that rose with me in the ranks, wanted to change direly. As we both rose, the last president, Angelos, prepared to step down. We both were selected to run for the presidency, yet i knew i had very little chance, even with my success, due to my non-Crayter heritage. Paul, obviously, won by a landslide. In a minute decision, we both took the leap to change the ways of the Colonials, to dare to look for new opportunities outside of the Tau systems. The Quorum was to be split, and there was to be two Consuls. Two major decision makers. I took the reigns of our Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Colonial Intelligence Service, two long forgotten cogs in our government as Paul stayed at the helm of the several ministries that were keenly active.
(05-10-2010, 12:02 AM)Colonial Remnant Wrote: -Paul walks through the room, looking through the blast windows, as a wing of Nyxes from the 44th flew by.- As i said, i have a strong militaristic view of things. Simple, clean and crystal. And i will still be as President, since it is who i am and that’s why the people voted for me.
But i do understand the need of having another set of eyes that look at places that my own eyes were not trained to look.
And in this, Colonel Dagon excels.- He nods to the only woman present -She is an outsider. Yes, not born and not even with a shred of Crayter blood in her veins. A woman in the midst of the Quorum. She served in the Fleet alongside me and I know I can trust her.The first outsider to achieve the honor to be a Quorum Member. Someone used to be an outsider, someone used to fight her way. But yet with intimate knowledge of the space and people around her.
That's what we need. A bridge. Someone that understands how Sirius turns and twists. Someone that although born and trained with a militaristic touch, does see the whole picture. And that will debate with me every step of the way.
As the mythological Phoenix, our symbol needs a set of eyes, I’m the left and she will be the right.
Thus making this great people, this great nation something not to be messed with.
Between treaties, creating plans regarding the rumours of impending Gaul attacks and several other diplomatic efforts, i took use of my new found power and between a heavy reformation of the CIS, i had the idea to improve on the Nyx design with foreign contractors, namely like the Blood Dragons or even Liberty itself. That idea however met resistance since its inception, causing me some personal grief. In my daunting rebellion against adversity, so to speak, i did managed to acquire the several blueprints of the Nyx project using my position as Consul, but was forced to stash them away in the data core of the Nemesis carrier, during a voyage to the Omega-7 system, lest the Chancellors or the Veteran Council heard of it. That voyage had the destination of another chagrin. The 88th Battlegroup, under my command, was sent there to broker a peace treaty between IMG and Daumann. I never knew how hard peace was to acquire and many did worked against it, namely the local independent miners that used the excuse of that war to up the prices of the ore they mined, while some of their less savoury colleagues resorted to piracy in the name of one or another.
After weeks of meetings, promises and ideas, the treaty was signed and i was drained beyond belief. The stubbornness of both sides was worthy of opening fire on both and let death sort them all. I was tempted, eerily tempted to do so, which made me question my capacity for the position. Those doubts planted a seed, a seed that was nurtured by my escapes into Tau-23 to patrol like i was once again a nameless Lieutenant in the 44th. In one of those escapes, i met the mercenary Jordy Meller, and i found myself yearning for the next time i could jump into my Nyx and fly with him, not only to feel the rush of battle, but just to fly and feel free once again. Alas, as i wrote before, happiness never lasts and those little seeds of my own doubts grew even larger every day, as more and more obstacles i met in my diplomatic efforts.
One day, after a particular frightening explosion of mine in the office, i receive an urgent communication from my parents. They finally managed to uncover some partial information from the files i and my brother had recovered in Liberty. A quick, hidden voyage to the Chugoku system, a happy family reunion and decisions, with me taking the chance to set myself free from the shackles i had found myself in the Colonials. While i still consider myself Bretonian and Colonial to the depths of my heart, i knew back then i was not the right woman for the job and that in my detestable condition, i would eventually create distress to the Republic. And it was decided in the end of that reunion, that i was to set out to Liberty once more, and to leave the Colonial Republic behind.
By that time, the CIS already had executed several forays into Gallia with the Councils permission and help. The reports coming back were grim. Although Council did managed to secure some space, the rumours coming from the closed systems depicted a nightmarish situation. Valor upon Valor, battlegroup upon battlegroup were being prepared and trained. When the gate that granted access to Isle de France opened, an army of the likes that Sirius had never seen would pour over and would stop at nothing, such was the bile and hate that the Royalists displayed towards Sirius. Although the CIS reports were accurate, they depended much on hearsay when regarding the Royalist war machine. Which basically allowed the Chancellors and Veteran Council to disregard them as a fairy tale or myth, instead focusing on the fight against the Outcasts. I pleaded with them and yet achieved very little result apart from a residual support from Paul.
With that support i engaged in preparations to at least have some early warning system at Dounby, and urged, with double implications of expansion, to the rest of the Government to initiate talks about preparation to colonize Pecos in a more substantial way. Yet i always felt it was too little. Especially when Bretonia would undoubtedly take the full brunt of this invasion. A wounded animal already licking its wounds from the war with Kusari, and now a bigger monster would come, with its jaws open and ready.
I expressed these concerns to my family, when we reunited. My father and my brother, although my family, were never truly.. attached to home. For them, the people is what matters. Family. And they almost shrugged at my worries while we reviewed the small image that my father was able to remove from the encrypted files. My mother, thank the heavens, is like me on that matter. Family is important, no doubt, but our roots is what defines us. And she, when seeing the obvious road for the Gaul invasion, feared for her House. After a lengthy discussion of what to do, since the image, a picture of my grandfather, garnered little to no information, it was decided we needed to set in motion another beast. Liberty. Although still at war with Rheinland at the time, their economical machine was running strong and their production capabilities were in a high note. So their support to Bretonia and the Colonials would be key to stop the Gaul onslaught to come, while preserving both.
But the question remained, how to make a House look at you and your worries? My mothers answer was quite simple and my fathers analysis was spot on. While Liberty barely takes notice of their own.. It takes notice of who it is harming it. With that in mind, i returned to Tau-44 with all of these variables of this particular problem. And weeks later, after convicing Jordy, i started my new path. But, as a Consul, i just could not pack my bags and leave. No. Either the Chancellors would make me leave.. Or i would have run, and be a pariah in their eyes for the remainder of my life. Since the first option would take considerate time and unwanted attention, i decided to lie and leave. My brother meanwhile, left the Omicrons and the Order, and joined the Colonials to keep an eye on the events. Jordy and i prepared our departure and i left a message to Paul, claiming family issues. As well getting six Nyxes to accompany me on the journey.
.................................................. ..................................................
Paul, i know this comes in a bad time, but my mother called and i'm forced to have to leave the Republic for a couple of weeks for some family business. I'll be back, don't worry. Jordy is coming with me, as he won't let me go alone. *Chuckles*
Just keep the things rolling and i'll be back before you know it.
If i manage to end my 'business' swiftly, i think i'll be with Jordy for a few days, enjoying the R&R, and checking the others sides of life, a.k.a merc work. Guess we get to show off the Colonial training.
I'll grab six Nyxes from Singapore and stow them on my family.. property.. in Magellan, just as precaution if i need a fast ship. .................................................. ..................................................
(05-15-2010, 08:51 PM)Atreides2 Wrote: .................................................. ..................................................
Well Kaze. What can i say ? Take care of your mother and if you need anything , just call for it and we will do our best to assist you.
As for things in the Republic , don't you worry. I have a nice little way of keeping things in order.* show a picture with 6 fully armed Marines*
Don't you worry about that part.Just take care of your family. .................................................. ..................................................
The plan, as if there was a true one, was to start working as a mercenary to the unlawful side of Liberty. But first, we had to enter the 'game', as Jordy midly put it, by the lawful side. Trust is earned, not given when it comes to working for the shady side of the law. We, after some jobs for the Liberty Government, managed to get in touch with a legend of the then glamorous out of the law way of life in Liberty, Jimmy Engvall, a Roguish captain of the 'Be Good At It", which then directed us to the Vagrant Raiders. And their need for hired guns. Not long after a contract was issued.
Incoming Transmission...
...Decryption in Progress... COMPLETED
Sender: Petrucci, John
Destination: Meller, Jordy; Dagon, Kaze. CC: D. Jameson, 101st.
Good afternoon. I'll get right down to business.
Jimmy Engvall, a trusted friend of mine informed me of your decision to change sides. Meaning that you no longer plan on working for the Liberty Navy, which of course, is a good thing.
We also have been notified of your talents as pilots. I am extending this offer to you:
The Vagrant Raiders are offering the following contract:
Quote:One million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credits for the destruction of any factionalized lawful ship in Liberty. Examples include:
Liberty Navy [LN]
Liberty Marine Corps [LMC]
Bounty Hunters' Guild BHG-
A two million ($2,000,000) Sirius-credit bonus for the destruction of any Gold Squadron ship. ([LN]-Gold-#)
A one million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bounty for the destruction of an unaffiliated Liberty Navy Vessel.
A one million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bonus for the destruction of any Silver squadron ship. (LPI-Silver#)
As well as the following contract (changes may be made) to individual vessels:
Quote:
One million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bounty for the destruction of "Kat".
One million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bounty for the destruction of "Willis".
One million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bounty for the destruction of "Fran".
One million ($1,000,000) Sirius-credit bounty for the destruction of "Indigo:Reaver".
I should hope these terms are acceptable. If so, reply here. Post any bounties that need to be collected here as well.
The Vagrant Raiders have decided to recruit these two new mercenaries. One of them has expressed an interest in one of the Inferno Pulse Cannons we have onboard the Armoury Transport. I thought it prudent to inquire about this, as it is your technology, and not ours. The mercenary in question is Kaze.Dagon.
If you are understandably untrusting of these new allies, this channel will always be open, and streaming to a secure server on Malta. Shows of their allegience will be displayed here, and perhaps then you might give them the same trust that I do.
Of course, if you possess no interest in this, please notify me so that I may inform the mercenaries.
Until later,
Petrucci.
End of transmission.
On a side note, i clearly stated my.. need for outcast technology, which brought a fortuitous development. A straight line to Administrator D. Jameson. A respected rival from my Colonial past, no doubt. One that i engaged in conversations many times when one of his drones found its way in Liberty. Gallia, Tau Systems and the famous, then starting, Merc Wars of Liberty were much the object of our talks. I almost lost sight of my objective then, as enthralled i was with my day to day work. I had to be good. I had to the be the best. I had to be the most professional and most successful. So that a House could keep their eyes fixed on me. And thus, i started my work in the Merc Wars.
Chaos, madness and explosions.
Felt just like Tau-23. .
To tell you about my role in it, i have to explain what it was and the toll it took on Liberty.
The Merc Wars is a chapter in Liberty that was most troublesome and yet demonstrated what a disparate group of mercenaries could do, if granted enough motivation. The origin of said event took root in Liberty's need to win the war against Rheinland, increasing their production of capital vessels, weaponry systems and training to an all time high. Convoys and convoys of materials were a common sight in the lanes, feeding the shipyards, which obviously drew the attention from the local unlawful organizations. Rogues, Hackers, Vagrant Raiders and assorted pirate groups started to hit said convoys hard, and amassed an incredible amount of wealth in a very short time. Needless to say, the Liberty Government would not stand for the loss of wealth and delays in the ever needing war machine. With a swift decision, all new capital vessels with their in-training Commanders started to patrol the Liberty systems, which created two situations. One, the display of military power deterred not only the unlawfuls but Rheinland as well, as the front simmered down to just skirmishes during that time. Rheinland also pressed on in their capital vessel program, but had months, if not a year of production and training to catch up Liberty. Two, the most important, the unlawful forces, filled with greed from the easy pickings in the past tried to pirate the lanes, but with dreadnoughts, cruisers and gunboats patrolling, every action they took was met with an out of proportion response. I still remember arriving in California, and seeing a lone Rogue bomber being chased by three gunboats and a cruiser.
And that created the very beginning of all that mess. Most of the mercenaries that were executing contracts in the Liberty-Rheinland front found themselves without work, since there was little action at the time, and the unlawfuls, now with enough money, were in need of assistance, since they did not have the necessary hardware and manpower to counter the ever increasing capital patrols. And suddenly, contracts like the one i took from the Vagrant Raiders showed up by the dozens. Slowly the mercenary forces shifted from the war front to the more profitable unlawful action in Liberty. Greed is a great motivator, and that is what drives a mercenary.
While the heat was picking up in Liberty, a contract showed up that forced the mercenaries to be drawn to it like moths to a flame. A contract with an excess of one billion credits was issued on all Liberty made capitals, the biggest contract ever to show up in Sirius. Issued by one woman, Natalie 'Blue' Callahan. Leader of Liberty's Finest, an outlaw group that all members were in the #10 Liberty's Most Wanted list, and without a doubt, had the eyes of the Liberty Government all over them.
For me, it was perfect. Although i already had met some of the Liberty's Finest, namely Jimmy Engvall and Alan Moore, it was more of a circumstantial alliance depending on how many forces we were facing. So such contract granted me a bridge, direct to the one that called the shots, 'Blue', and a chance to be at the vanguard of the whole mess. The spotlight was there and i had to make sure i was right under it. And i truly did worked very hard to do so.
In less than a couple of months, more money flew in my direction than i could ever imagine. My Inferno Nyx was seen in New York repeatedly, even reaching the point where the Liberty Security Forces tried to create traps in order to catch me, in space as well in land. The Coalition also felt drawn to me since i went to O-52, under a small contract at the time from 'Blue' Callahan and managed to destroy one of their gunboats. They also appeared in Liberty during those days in search of me, creating traps, tailing me, and even using a slander operation with faked evidence and planted operatives in Ontario. Such was the importance a measly mercenary was gaining.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION
COMM ID: Governor Thomas McLachlan
LOCATION: Toronto Station, Ontario System
TARGET ID: The Mercenary Crisis
As Ontario LPI officers bowed their heads and blinked away tears, the haunting bugle notes of the Last Post hung over the final moments of a memorial service for four constables gunned down in the line of duty over the last week.
Hundreds of police officers, mourners and dignitaries gathered on Toronto Station to honour Constables Peter Whistler, Leo Hammersfall, Trip Gordon and Brock Samson in the largest memorial service in the Ontario LPI-detachment's history.
The officers were shot and killed while investigating reports of illegal Mercenary Activity last Thursday near Hamilton Station. Their killer, Kaze Dagon remains at large.
Family and friends of the four officers also remembered the men in moving tributes, describing their pride in belonging to the LPI-Ontario, then standing silently in front of the men's portraits for one last goodbye.
***Breaks and looks up at the Camera***
Words cannot express the horror, and sadness expressed by the Governor's office over this tragedy.
We're on the brink of something very dark here, and I appeal, loudly, on behalf of the citizens of Ontario, for something to be done about the mercenary sell-swords who have turned their blades on the very men and women we count upon to keep us safe.
This is murder, in its purest form. Without remorse, without a shadow of guilt.
I want you to look into the eyes of Constable Hammerfall's daughter, and I want you to tell her why her daddy will never come home again.
And I want you to know, Ontario is not an isolated state, Ontario has strong friends. Powerful allies within Liberty and outside of it. I can assure you, we will not rest until you stand accountable for your heinous crime!
Thank you,
Thomas McLachlan
Governor for Ontario
END TRANSMISSION
The CIS (Colonial Intelligence Services) almost caught up to me once, but i was lucky that it was only one agent, not the veritable battlegroups that were the norm. With all of this, i felt i was moving towards the right direction.
Now, Liberty at this time, was a mess. Within less of a month since the start of the famous bounty, all the Liberty capital vessels barely left the dry dock, such was ferocity that the mercenaries hunted, me being one of them. Natalie Callahan herself upped the ante by providing access to Hacker and Rogue technology to specific mercenaries alongside with hefty bonuses for several destructions. And then, the Liberty Government started to send out reports on mercenaries that were helping the unlawfuls, issued several bounties. Because the targets stopped being the local Liberty capital vessels.
(07-09-2010, 06:25 PM)The Republic Of Liberty Wrote:
The Republic of Liberty presents:
The read-only datafiles entitled
The Liberty Mercenary Blacklist Database
This is the collection of Mercenaries and Freelancers confirmed to be working against the Republic of Liberty as recorded by the Liberty mercenary reporting facility. Only the forces of Liberty may access this channel, and only to view. Any and all enquiries on the service should go to the aforementioned reporting facility.
Of note, the ships listed include any and all variations of the same name. For example, if the name "Mercenary.Ship" is on the list, this includes "Mercenary:Ship", "Mercenary-Ship", "Mercenary.Ship." and so on.
Currently, the Mercenaries and Freelancers confirmed to be working against the Republic of Liberty, her people and her interests, are as follows:
This list is alphabetised and will be kept up-to-date as neccessary.
Signed;
~Fleet Admiral David Hale(Liberty Navy) ~Director David Copperfield(Liberty Security Force) ~Police Chief Matt Myers(Liberty Police Incorporated) ~Robert McKay(Secretary of State for Defence)
The hunters became the hunted. Not by the Liberty forces, no. By their fellow mercenaries. Some took the chance to wipe their slate clean with the Liberty Government, others saw the chance to win its favor. Needless to say, my fathers evaluation of the way that the Government act was spot on, since those mercenaries that started to hunt the others are now nameless bodies in the void of space, or were barely, if not nothing, given any attention of note.
It was in that moment that the Merc Wars gained its name. For skirmishes all along the Liberty core systems were furious and regular, with the few Liberty capital vessels that still patrolled the systems, being the bait. I myself, had to shoot down some of the people that had work previously with me. And in the midst of that carnage and my increasing success and the name at the forefront of the 'unlawful' mercenaries, an invitation arose.
Source:Prison Liner Stellar Ranger, New York, Detroit Debris Field Sender:Viva Emilia Velasquez Recipient(s):Kaze Dagon, Victoria Lesley, Lady Justice Subject:Special Stuff.
Like all the times before the videofeed starts up, today revealing Viva and Blue, both sitting on a comfortable-looking leather couch, side by side, wearing stylish business-suits. Viva a dark red one and the Blue, obviously, a dark blue one. And it's Viva who starts to speak at first.
I'll get right to business and start with you, Senorita Lesley.
I won't beat around the bush, I think today is just your lucky day.
Not only did you deliver some really nice footage there, but you had the fortune of working right by my and Blue's side.
And we both came to the conclusion that you, being quite a nice person who delivers solid work without hesitation, should receive a more 'special' bonus.
She turns to face Blue, who just smiles at the camera for a moment before continuing.
Well, Vickie, let me say first that you know how good a job you do yourself, but you've quite some extra qualities going for you.
You're a decent shot, seem quite reliable, friendly but not too friendly, not excessively greedy, and first and foremost you seem like quite a well-disciplined professional.
I like that a lot, and what I've heard from Viva about the, well, 'trip' you were on with her just reinforces the impression I'm having of you.
Not to mention that Dickie, whom you might remember as 'I Crashed', and Jimbo, whom Viva refers to as 'Commandante Night', both had only good things to say about you as well.
Apart from your other qualities, you seem to be quite good company too and I like that even more.
Now on to business.
I heard from you, and so did Viva as she told me, that you are quite interested in acquiring a rather special ship.
Which one was it again Viva?
A Bayonet, Blue.
Ah, right. You see Vickie, I happen to have some ties to a few of the gentlemen who are in charge of the distribution of that particular type of ship.
And by the 'gentlemen' I mean that particular military organization known as the Hellfire Legion.
I've decided to put in a good word for you and contacted Lord Commander Joyeuse if he might not feel inclined to part with a surplus Bayonet Heavy Fighter.
As you've probably gathered yourself I can be quite convincing, so I've a good feeling in regards to that matter.
And now to...
Senorita Justice.
Would you like to continue for me Sugarcakes?
Viva flashes Blue a little sheepish grin and suddenly pecks her cheek before whispering for a second.
Only because you asked so nicely.
You're liking this, huh?
You know that I like doing business mi amor.
But si, to senorita Justice now.
While you didn't blow up a Dreadnought this time, you delivered another solid display of raw, unstoppable destruction, so we'll be adding another two and a half Million Credits this time.
Just to make it a nice and even number, and to encourage you to continue of course, si?
And with that out of the way, we get to my darling Colonial Kaze.
So many claims, so much footage, so much participation of yours in there.
But in the end what is clearly visible the most is your greed, which is quite outstanding even for a Mercenary.
Blue and I have decided to make you a special offer, just because we both like you so, so much.
Mi amor, will you tell her?
Blue laughs softly a bit, just for a second, and then nods slowly before taking over for Viva.
You see KamiKaze, what Viva said is true. We do both like you quite a lot, and it's evident you like me.
Even though you might not like my dearest Viva as much, I think you two would get along nicely in the future.
So in short, you get a special offer instead of your regular pay.
Don't get me wrong here, I can pay you just the same but let's face it, most of the kills there you assisted with mainly so I should be cutting the pay in half in the first place.
But it's actually that greedy side of yours that opened you a big door.
You can choose.
A paycheck, or you can have a place to stay at in Liberty, at any time, no matter when, no matter why, aboard the Stellar Ranger. Aboard my ship.
As, let's say, an 'honorary member' of Liberty's Finest.
And to sweeten that offer a bit, the same goes for your lover Jordy.
Either forty-seven and a half Million Credits, or your two's own suite in my lovely hotel.
Pick one and tell me during your next transmission.
And darling, before we cut the feed, you should know that this isn't something we would offer to anyone just like that.
It's quite a rarity, so before you choose the paycheck just because you want even more money, or because you may not like me, well.
Take into account that money isn't everything in Sirius, and that some other things can be worth much more in the long run.
And so the screen fades to black once again, with a serious-looking Viva and a smirking Blue.
Just before the screen slowly fades to black, Blue can be seen winking at the camera a little.
Now to tell you what this invitation truly meant. As I said previously, Liberty's Finest was the group with the most wanted criminals in Liberty, and that was a tag they wore proudly. It forced the Goverment to keep watch on them, not only due to their presence in said list, but also for their talent and actions that placed them there. Two hours after this invitation was issued, my neural net account was buzzing with messages of congratulations, something I felt it was weird since we were not in high-school or joining a dance group, and business propositions. It truly was a gate for the spotlight in Liberty, and I fully intended on using it.
First order of business was to pick up the pace, that was already very high. Needless to say, i was either very tired or energized from an engagement at that time. Every time my Nyx felt the cold touch of the void, i knew there would be blood, fire and steel. In one of those fights i managed to get tangled with the one and only Admiral David Hale of the Liberty Navy. I was impressed by his mastery of the Guardian, but we stood at a stand still during the fight. Suddenly he started to talk. At first, my defensive instincts kicked in, and ignored him completely, as sometimes people do chat while fighting to throw their target of their 'game'. But he kept on, and decided to take notice. He was asking me why i was working against Liberty, what of my work with the Colonials, etc. Tentatively i replied and stopped firing. Suddenly, two of his wing show up and i clenched my teeth in preparation for what was to come. He ordered them to stand down. And offered me a job, in the condition to leave the Vagrant contract. I was stumped and baffled. Never in my dreams i would thought this would happen, like this.
Hale was either crazy or a very intelligent person. .
Hindsight is twenty twenty, so they say. Now, I think everyday if my path could have been a different one. I try to reassure myself it could not. The steps I took, the debts I accumulated through the years in my soul, the death and carnage, the brief respite in love and the inevitable plunge in pain, all of it.. It was necessary. It is necessary. It must be.
And now, I am walking a new path. One that I do not know where it will lead me. This same new feeling of unknown was felt when I met David Hale. By now, dear reader, you must be wondering why the Fleet Admiral of the Liberty Navy was willing to.. tarnish himself in a deal with the Liberty most wanted persona. Obviously, to remove me from the equation that was the mess of the Merc Wars. And to gain an unexpected asset, no doubt. First order of business, I had to drop the Vagrant Raider contract. Needless to say, I wanted to part ways with them in amicable terms, without a shred of suspicion, so it would have to be them to drop the contract, not me. For that I had just to release rumors of where I would be (alongside the Raiders) for them to be assaulted by the hunters after me. Two, three situations like that and I finally received the message I so wanted to receive.
Location: Buffalo; New York
Subject: A change for the company.
I'm gonna' be short and to the point:
We're letting you go.
Now. I bet by now, your jaw has dropped. Right? RIGHT!? If it hasn't, well, meh. LaBrie, Petrucci, and the other lovely people I call my friends got drunk and started crunching numbers. One of the negative numbers, mainly being you, was very noticeable. We all double-checked, making sure it was a smudge. Sadly, it wasn't. On behalf of the Raiders, we have deemed you a liability.
So until further ado, consider our contracts cut for these reasons:
1. You cost us more money than we gain.
2. We have noticed no beneficial side effects to your blood thirst. Just more angry people.
3. People are drawing your contracts to our organization, shooting down our ships to get at you.
4. The Navy has stepped up patrols due to the merc issue, making it unsafe for us.
Sorry, hon, but you're canned. Please find new employers.
-----TERMINATING TRANSMISSION-----
*Suddenly, she picks a card from her hand saying '[/sarcasm]' and throws it away*
Oh well.. Nothing that wasn't to be done in the near future.
*Grins*
Guess it worked alright.
Now i can continue my business.
Got to say, it was fun.. And emptying your coffers was also a nice experience.
Good luck out there, Raiders.
We don't part in bad terms.
Oh, and Jada? You should do something about that hair... It's seems.. Well.. Bad.
Toodles,
Kaze.
--Transmission Ended--
With that out of the way, I finally contacted David Hale. I knew I had to use all my accumulated knowledge to keep this situation under wraps due to the fragility and political implications that would occur otherwise. Without that, my goal would be unreachable and the bloody path I took, for nothing. Entering Fort Bragg was not overly complicated. Entering the Fleet Admiral's office was something I was expecting to be very challenging. It was not. Their security.. was appalling to say the least. I believe to this day that they feel like giants that no one wants to wake. Alas, I did what i was required to do.
Hale walked down the corridor at Fort Bragg towards his planetside office on Manhattan. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, walking through his door and sitting behind his large mahogany desk. He lit a cigarette and leant back in his seat, a thin trail of smoke reaching to the ceiling.
He closed his eyes.
Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door.
If that's you Jasmine, come in... he muttered, keeping his eyes closed.
The door swung open and Commander Jasmine Greenson walked in holding an envelope.
From the president, Admir- David.
Hale sat up in his chair and took the envelope.
I would hang around, but I've got a heap of paperw-
That's fine Jasmine... Don't worry about it
Hale looked down at the envelope as Greenson strolled out the door. It's rare the president would send a message like this. He opened the envelope.
Put your hands beneath the desk, Hale. A gift is waiting.
~ Kaze Dagon.
He dropped the envelope, looked and reached under his desk, finding a small comunication PDA taped to the underside of it.
Clever girl... He thought to himself as he turned it on.
Hello there, Hale.
I see you got my letter. Better step up your office security while you are at it.
So... About our business.
I dropped the Raider contract.. Or was.. Dropped by them.
*Chuckles*
Guess their bank couldn't handle the hassle.
So.. The ball is in your hands. Now play it.
Toodles,
Kaze.
--Transmission Ended--
(07-09-2010, 03:12 PM)Jihadjoe Wrote: Alan Moore sat quietly in the corner of the bar on the Ranger. It was a tuesday, and tuesdays always meant party night. Not that Alan was much in the mood, the Dogs or Gods needed some repairs after a rather brutal encounter with a Liberty Battlecruiser. He ran his hand through his black hair and leant back in his seat.
Suddenly there was a sweet little whisper in his ear.
"Hello Mister Moore."
He didn't turn around and just sat very very still.
"I know that voice. Evening Jasmine."
"You understand that if you say anything to anyone about me being here, you're a dead man, right?"
He nodded, keeping an impassive look on his face as Jasmine Greenson sat down infront of him. Alan looked at Greenson, his face a mixture of worry, confusion and a little bit of lust.
"How've you been Jas?"He asked politely, wondering how she'd hidden a blaster in a dress that looked more like a very good paintjob than anything else"I can see why Hale's been handing you the promotions."
"You never change do you"she laughed softly."I had to blend in a bit... Look. I'm not here for pleasure, then again, your company rarely is... I want you to give this to Kaze Dagon."
"She's not her-"
"Yes she is."she interupted"She's sat infront of the bar right now drinking something green. By the time you hand this to her, I'll be off the ship. You won't mention how you got it. Clear?"
Alan sighed slightly and took the PDA off Jasmine Greenson, then turned around to see who might be watching. By the time he looked back, she was gone.
"Well I'll be damned."
Alan looked around again then stood upand walked over to where Kaze was sat at the bar, dropping the PDA infront of her.
"Who's it from Alan?"
"Guess..."
Kaze picked up the PDA and walked to her quarters, she turned it on and it flickered into life.
****INCOMING TRANSMISSION****
COMM ID:Fleet Admiral David Hale TARGET ID:Kaze Dagon (AND KAZE DAGON ONLY) SUBJECT:A deal ENCRYPTION:HIGH PRIORTY:HIGH
Evening Miss Dagon.
I hope Jasmine didn't scare Mr Moore too badly. You found a creative way of sending me a message, so I thought I'd return the favor. By the time you read this she'll be long gone. Besides, why would I want to increase the security around my office? I like surprises.
You'll remember a little conversation we had out in California a while ago, and since then I've done a little digging into your history. Bretonian, ex Colonial...
Look. We both know what's going on a little bit galactic north of bretonia. The Gallic royalist forces are looking stronger every day. Some time soon we know the Council line is going to fold and then all hell is going to break loose in the Taus. As if it wasn't hell up there already.
Here's the deal. I want you out of Liberty. The reasons behind that are obvious, and frankly it's a lot easier and more cost effective to do it this way. I'll pay you a retainer, I want you to travel to Gallia, possibly make contact with the council there.
I want weekly reports on Royalist military activity, possible weaknesses with their ship design, reports on the command structure, etc. Anything you can gather is useful. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you can find ways to get information.
In return for that, you'll get paid. In two ways... First, a considerable amount of credits for each report you send. Second, you'll get a certain amount of credits for each and every Gallic Royal Navy ship you put down. The weaker they are when the hammer falls the better.
And here's another little promise, and all you can get on this is my word... When they push through the minefield in Orkney, I'll do what I can to send as much aid and military support to the Bretonians as I can. The Colonials too if they find themselves caught up in it.
As for giving you an official pardon in Liberty... I think you might be a bit too far down the line for that to happen. I'd be commiting political suicide by suggesting it. You understand that I can't do that at the moment, but I'll do what I can.
Think on it a while Miss Dagon. Oh... Just a note, if this gets out, the entire deal is entirely deniable from my end. If anyone asks, I've never spoken to you. If you screw up, then I can't do anything to help. To the rest of sirius, this little message doesn't exist. I'm extremely good at keeping it that way.
Hale out.
****TRANSMISSION TERMINATED****
(07-14-2010, 11:31 PM)Kaze Dagon Wrote:
David Hale looked at the lights of the bustling planet of Los Angeles, and he sighed, as the transport from the Yukon was making it's planetary descent.
Not long after and with an already smoked cigarette, the armored transport left him not even ten minutes away from his house, in the south district of San Mateo, where he dismissed the armored hover and he gladly walked, keeping his mind from the job and lit another cigarette, surrounded by a small force of personal security bodyguards.
As he finally reached the doorstep of his home, a marine Navy Captain quickly saluted.
"All is well, sir. The house is secure."
Hale nodded and entered the silent house. For three whole days that he hasn't set foot in his own house, stuck in meetings, sleeping in Fort Bragg, and making runs through New York. He looked at the voice sensor, and decided not to say the voice command for the lights to turn on. He needed the darkness to seep in for him to finally rest.
He went to the kitchen to get a glass of old dublin single malt, and visibly relaxed as he heard the liquid hitting the glass.. With the glass in the counter, he lit another cigarette, and suddenly a voice was heard from the adjoining living room.
[font=Tahoma]"Smoking is bad for your health, Mr.Hale."
Hale smirked as he recognized the voice, and right in the moment he was ready to say the command for the lights to go on, he was interrupted.
"Don't. It's a security hazard for this conversation. I don't want one of your boys to poke at the window and watch us drinking and talking."
"Very well, Miss Dagon. Care for a drink?"
"Already served, thank you, Mr. Hale. Old Dublin Malt... Costly. And good. I would care for a cigarette, though."
Kaze was sitting in the couch, obviously nursing her drink, in the darkness.
"Here you go. Now.. To what do I owe the pleasure of this personal visit, Miss Dagon?"
Kaze lit the cigar, and waited for Hale to sit in the one person couch, right in front of her.
Her face was somewhat visible in the shadows of the dark living room, as Hale's eyes got sensitive enough in the middle of the darkness.
"Business, of course..."
She inhaled the smoke, and also relaxed her stance.
"First, sorry for barging in your house like this. And drinking some of your malt. Safety precautions. This way no one will know that we talked."
Hale nodded.
"Wise move."
Kaze pushed a small electronic device across the coffee table between them.
"Attach that to the PDA. It's a encryption and security module, designed by my brother. Any tampering, anyone trying activate it, except yourself.. It will make the PDA a piece of junk without any leads of what it was served for. Plus, good luck hacking the encrypted single burst transmissions."
Hale picked the part and inspected it.
"Looks like you accepted the deal... Where did you get this? LSF doesn't have this kind of -"
Kaze interrupted him again.
"Don't ask.. Now, for the specifics. Reports and such will cost.. your word that you gave me. I owe Bretonia and the Colonials a debt..."
Kaze sighed, and Hale could almost swear he saw her looking sad in the middle of the shadows.
"Next, the-"
This time Hale cut her sentence short as he put out the cigarette and grabbed his glass.
"10 million credits for their version of a Battleship, 6 for one of their cruisers, 3 for their gunboats and 2 for fighters or bombers?"
Kaze smirked and nodded.
"It's a deal. Already contacted a smuggler i know to bring me weekly supplies to Gallia. So i won't have problems with my Nyxes there. And my new Orchid."
Hale raised an eyebrow and smirked again. After ten seconds of a peaceful silence, Hale asked.
"You're going in alone, i suppose?"
"I am. Less noise. Less safety risks. Less people talking and asking. I still have some Council contacts from my time in the Taus. I'll get in unnoticed, and try to give them a hand, if it doesn't jeopardize the mission."
"Logistics, prices, the works.. No wonder she got where she was in the Colonials. Professional to the core.. Hm. I should dig more up about her."
Hale thought.
"Very well. It's a deal, Miss Dagon."
Said Hale, stretching his hand for her to shake.
"It's a deal. I also left you a gift from the CIS inside the PDA as a bonus."
She replied as she shook his hand. She then gulped the last of the Dublin single malt and put away the cigarette.
As she was leaving the living room, she cocked her head to the side and Hale could see her whole figure against the moonlight.
"Now, Hale. Do step up the security, will you?"
Hale laughed to himself as she disappeared in the shadows.
One minute later as he finished his drink, he placed the small electronic device at the side of the PDA and turned it on.
Several laser beams appeared from the electronic device and the camera of the PDA clicked.
"DNA print... Recognized. Face evaluation..... Done. Retinal Scan.... Matched. Password?"
"Uh..."
Hale was stumped. She didn't said anything about a password.
He watched as the PDA suddenly started a five second countdown. 5.
4.
"That's what happens when you put too much security!"
Hale thought while their conversation replayed in his mind.
As was asked by Agent J, i send these classified informations to the CIS. First things first, several gun-cam pictures of bases and military resources of several key elements in the systems of Orkney, Languedoc and Dauphine.
CRIRP44-A01-001 - Reunion Station. Located at Orkney at the entrance of the mine field. Owned by the Council.
CRIRP44-A01-002 - Montepellier Station. Located at the entrance in Languedoc. Owned by the Council. A slight resum? here.
CRIRP44-A01-003 - Again Montepellier.
CRIRP44-A01-004 - The wreck of the Battleship Cassard near the Montepellier Station.
CRIRP44-A01-005 - History of the Cassard.
CRIRP44-A01-006 - First Planet of the Gallic space anyone encounters in Languedoc. Planet Quillan. Notice the several weapon platforms around. Council owned.
CRIRP44-A01-007 - Nimes Station at Languedoc. Council owned. Notice the scan of it on the left lower display.
CRIRP44-A01-008 - History on the Nimes Station.
CRIRP44-A01-009 - History of the Remoulins Station. A wreck.
CRIRP44-A01-010 - Scan of the Remounlins. Note to CIS, it appeared to be an accident.
CRIRP44-A01-011 - Jump Gate to Dauphine and the battleship Carcassone near it. Gallic Royal Navy owned. Unfriendly.
CRIRP44-A01-012 - Scan of the Carcassone.
CRIRP44-A01-013 - Narbonne base. Is a Brigands base on Languedoc. Short history.
CRIRP44-A01-014 - Scan of the Narbonne.
CRIRP44-A01-015 - Grenoble Depot in Dauphine. Short history. Maquis owned. Friendly as the Council.
CRIRP44-A01-016 - Scan of the Grenoble Depot.
CRIRP44-A01-017 - Montelimar Base near Grenoble. Scan of it and Corse owned. Unfriendly.
CRIRP44-A01-018 - Languedoc Jump Gate and the battleship Guillestre at the entrance. GNR owned.
CRIRP44-A01-019 - Scan of the Guillestre.
CRIRP44-A01-020 - Scan of Gap Station. Gallic Police owned. Unfriendly.
CRIRP44-A01-021 - Scan of Briancon Station. EFL owned. Friendly, although it is a Gallic lawful corporation. CIS should check the whys and hows.
CRIRP44-A01-022 - Short history of the Briancon.
CRIRP44-A01-023 - Bourgon-Jallieu wreck. Scan of it. Located at a major hub of trade lanes in Dauphine.
CRIRP44-A01-024 - Short history of the Bourgon-Jallieu wreck.
CRIRP44-A01-025 - Burgundy Jump Gate and the battleship Embrun. Notice the several weapon platforms around.
CRIRP44-A01-026 - Long range scan of the Embrum.
CRIRP44-A01-027 - A sealed Jump Gate to a unknown system. Unable to hack even with Tisiphone working on it 100%.
CRIRP44-A01-028 - Burgundy Jump Hole.
CRIRP44-A01-029 - Distance from the Burgundy Jump Hole to Languedoc Jump Hole.
CRIRP44-A01-M01 - Navigation map of Dauphine.
CRIRP44-A01-M02 - Navigation map of Languedoc.
CRIRP44-A01-M03 - Orkney. Route inside the minefield to reach the Languedoc Jump Hole.
CRIRP44-A01-M04 - Navigation map of Orkney.
With regards,
1st Lt. Kaze Dagon.
--Transmission ended--
-------------------------------End of Copy-------------------------------
Finally, my goal of providing support to the Colonials and Bretonia was at hand. Hale was interested in the Gauls and he knew nothing of good would come out of it. And his promise of support to both of them was all I needed. With that, I made the necessary preparations, as in securing a safe heaven in Gallia with the Union Corse, a agile and deadly bomber vessel alongside supplies for a long haul in hostile space.
Captain Sohaj. We meet again. This time, in the capability of customer.
I'll need some supplies moved to Gallia in a week. And then the same every three weeks.
I want it quick, efficiently and without noise. Something i know you do very well.
Here's the list of supplies.
- 150 units of Black Market Munitions, with at least 50 of them being magazines for the LSF Kel-Tec PLR-636 Automatic Laser Handgun model.
- 500 units of Engine Components.
- 1000 units of H-Fuel.
- 100 units of High-Temperature Alloy bands and wires.
- 100 units of Iridium.
- 5 Units of Light Arms. Ranging from parts for the Kel-Tec PLR-636 that i mentioned above and assorted weaponry ranging from throwing knifes to stun grenades.
- 10 Units of Luxury Consumer Goods. And i mean Donna Terran's designer's line of clothing. And at least one of her leather 'Sirius War Princess' line of holsters. And the monthly Sirius Designer's Clothing magazine also so i can know what to choose when you get here.
- 100 units of Niobium. Not ore. I mean already crafted bars of Niobium to use in several repairing jobs.
- 1 Nuclear Device. Excellent to blow up capital ships if dropped right in the keel.
- 30 Optical Chips.
- 30 Optronics. And i mean the ones from Narita. Honshu made ones are just scrap.
- 10 Quantum Multiplexors. From Narita as well.
- 10 Robotic Components for the Nyx Model, Colonial line. You can get them from Holman. It's the same ones. Gyros, Stabilizers, Sensors, the works.
- 300 Ship Hull Panels for the Nyx Model, Colonial line. Singapore, T44. You know how to get them.
- 50 Superconductors from Liberty.
- 5 bottles of Black Hook's from Minato, T44. Don't ask.
- 10 50|Tera data-discs. Sonayo brand.
The rest i can get in Gallia.
I'll wait for your confirmation, then we will talk prices.
Toodles,
Kaze.
--Transmission Ended--
(07-13-2010, 01:48 PM)CzeReptile Wrote:
*** image flickers for a while ***
*** hooded figure appears on the screen ***
Greetings miss Kaze.
Your order will be done, nothing we cannot handle *slight grin*. However, cost of all that and my services will not be low this time, seeing it is Gallia to go to. But I still have some friends from a previous contracts into the area, so they might come in handy for this occasion.
Can you specify where exactly will we be delivering the necessary supplies? The price will be calculated based on that. More danger, more credits, but you know we hold to our part of bargain.
Delivery will be made to a Gallic Junker, an friend of mine, called Margaretha Zelle. You'll find her in Languedoc. That way the Royals won't be crawling there too much. Just foward me a time and i'll set up the meeting. She will be flying her Recycler.
For prices.. 10 Million per run sound well, qui'aff?
And fyi, do keep a tight lid in this. If the Colonials get a whiff of this, they will be over your ship in the Taus in no time.
Toodles,
Kaze.
--Transmission Ended--
(07-14-2010, 08:13 AM)CzeReptile Wrote:
Greetings miss Kaze.
Very well miss Dagon, you just got yourself a supplier. First shipment will head off very soon. And do not worry about anything, they will not find out *slight grin*, old cap has some surprises still left.
I come, humbly, only in the capability of a free soul in Sirius, to ask of a boon.
You have probably know of the ruckus i created in the Taus and in Liberty, but i have always found myself short of tools to pave my way.
When i was just a young woman, under the wing of my mother and the Blood Dragons, i saw the Chrysanthemum in Kyoto.
*Smiles*
Strong, dedicated women. That carve their own path.
When i was a Lieutenant in the Colonial Fleet, i saw that path being carved with the wings of an Orchid in Kyushu.
Now i found myself in a difficult junction, Elders.
I have sight of my path and it is most troublesome. And i need tools.
So, i come to you.
*Bows head*
I come to you and ask for you to lend me the tool that i need.
And i need a bomber. The Orchid.
I found myself on the verge of entering 'very' unfriendly space.
And i need a light, fast and deadly tool to swat whatever is needed to be swatted away from my journey.
For the reason i'm entering such space where many people perished, let's just say it is a strong reason.
One that prevents me from aiding you in the form of battling for your cause as a sword pointed at your enemies for i will be.. tied up there, to say the least.
But i can send you relief in the form of credits or even later, in the form of intelligence, since it is my greatest asset i can grant you with.
I ask for you to consider my request, honorable Elders, as i await your terms or answer.
*Bows fully*
With respect, Kaze Nelson Reidman Dagon-Callagher. --Transmission Ended--
The Orchid is as you already stated a deadly vessel. But I refuse to call it a tool, so should you. The Orchid is more then just a tool, it is a weapon, a reliable one.
We do not own many of those ships, the production is expensive and slow that is why there are still many Civilian Bombers in our wings. I would suggest you to buy one of those, seeing that they are nearly as good as the Orchids are. But you may have your reasons to request one of our vessels.
You wish to use our vessel far away from us, on places where you would not be able to aid our cause, where the ship could be damaged, maybe even destroyed. Be informed that we equip our vessels with security measures, which will prevent you from repairing most of the inner systems if they are damaged. Believe me, you should not try to do it.
If you really wish to aquire one of these ships, you will have to supply us with the materials and Credits needed for the construction of more then one Orchid - Class Bomber.
We will need the following ressources:
200 x Ship Hull Panels
100 x Engine Components
10 x Counterfeit Software
50 x Quantum Multiplexors
100 x Supercondutctors
50 x Polymers
20 x Optronics
10 x Nuclear Devices
And another [color=#CC0000]5 Million Credits would be needed to pay the workers, those should be transfered to the [GC]-Armoury bank account.
We would also be interested in intelligence data if you are able to gather some.
Once you were able to deliver those goods and the needed amount of Credits a ship will be constructed for you.
I have arranged and procured all the items you requested and in the proportions you have requested, meiyo chōrō. But since i would not get the pass this fast to deliver the items, i asked a member of the Golden Chrysanthemum, Sei Osugi san, to help me to deliver it to Takada Shipyard.
*Smiles*
She was most expedient and so i also gave a 'thank you' bonus to her for her most gracious help.
Here is the pictures with the supplies being delivered at Takada Shipyard.
Bounjour, mon ami. I come to you to finalize the deal we made in front of your facility.
The following terms for this contract are the following.
- No one knows about this deal. And i mean. No one.
- I have docking rights for two ships. A fighter and a bomber. The transponder are the following (Kaze.Dagon and Kaze.Dagon-Callagher)
- A living quarter in Bourbon.
- A small warehouse for my supplies.
In return, ten million credits (10.000.000) are to be deposited in your Neural Net account per week (LaBrise|Ombre).
I must reiterate the importance of safety in my stay in your facilities. No one will access my ships, my quarters or my warehouse. I will install safety devices and security protocols in order to enforce it.
Anyone except me gets near my ships, my A.I. will shoot them.
Anyone gets near my warehouse, expect surprises.
Anyone tries even to get a whiff of my quarters, the automated defenses will rip a new one of a size of one of your Gallic Valors.
I expect your answer to 'officially' sign this deal.
If so, i will forward the first pay in this channel and all the following ones in it as proof.
As i said. I came to Gallia in the mere capacity of an observer. I'm not here to provoke or create problems to anyone.
The Council/Royal War is merely something to watch, not my place to intervene.
So, this decreases any potential 'heat' coming my way.
I do hope for a good conclusion of this deal.
*Slightly bows head*
With my regards,
Kaze Nelson Reidman Dagon-Callagher.
--Transmission Ended--
(07-17-2010, 10:23 PM)Magnabyte Wrote: Bourbon base control
Message rerouted through command line
Message forwarded to Marcus Willow, Paternel
Reply recived, message as follows
Bonjour Mon ami
Your message has been forwarded to me via automated control systems because of higher leadership being indisposed. However, I am well within my rights to grant final permission over a deal such as this.
Your terms have been read and accepted, and we await you and your vessels arrival at the station. Standardsercurity in these matters requires a level 1 hazard scan of all sirian goods brought onto our base...incase of contaigents. We will also be doing radiological scans and checks for high yield devices, if you intend to bring such items abourd simply declare thier yield prior to basic scans and they will be exempt. we understnad your desire for privicy, but it is important we ensure no highly dangerous devices are brough aboard without our knowledge. Again I stress that the full nature of such devices need not be provided, just expected yield.
Once you are within the confines of the station your business is your own, and anyone bothering you or your property, should they survive, should be brought before me or my fellow Paternel Aigre An'e, for severe punishment.
We also extend to you the hospitality of our Bordel, which I am sure will provide any....entertainment you should need.
We look forward to seeing you on our home mon ami
Sincerly
Marcus Willow
Paternel Famille de La Brise
Since it is agreed then, here follows the evidence of the first payment.
I look forward for a good business between us.
You can expect the second one in one week.
With my regards,
Kaze Nelson Reidman Dagon-Callagher.
--Transmission Ended--
And I said my goodbyes to the ones I could call loved ones. Jordy himself was in denial of my departure so I never could properly say goodbye. I do keep thinking I should have stayed, that I should have not left his side. But my duty, my path I laid for myself was bigger than a relationship. Always was. I was and am, if nothing, a true Bretonian and a true descendant of a Blood Dragon. So whatever the cost, I will stand true to myself and my decisions. I only expected more from the man I loved, I expected more from him. I expected him to be more than someone that could grow from its own agenda and selfishness. For what came to pass afterwards my departure to Gallia..
I found myself needing a knight in a silver armor. And a priest to exorcise my demons. .
Plunged into a pool of icy black water, in a moonless night, with incorporeal spirits clutching my throat and body, drowning slowly.
That is the most faithful metaphor that i can think to resume what happened to me in Gallia. Not even a month in my stay at Bourbon, I had hit a proverbial dead end. That dead end was the gate to Ile de France. Closed to all, and i mean all. More protected than Zone 21. And only rumours and speculations was the only thing coming from that gate. From legions upon legions of battle-groups, more Valors than all the Sirius houses combined, nomad incubi at the head of the army.. All speculations and no real concrete evidence supporting any of them. That troubled me to no end. Although i managed to shoot down some lonesome patrols, mapped all the systems I could get in, i felt it was not enough.
I needed more. And the only target i could see was the Ile de France gate. Everyday, i travelled closer and closer to it. I dedicated myself in arranging contacts that could allow me entrance, but to no avail. I could not find an answer. And yet, my distance to it was becoming dangerously close. In the back of my head, my instincts was screaming to back off, as the level and number of patrols were increasing at an alarming rate.
As my scanner signalled several contacts converging on my position in the Morvan field, i knew the dark threshold was crossed. I purged my data-banks and prepared my Orchid, a graceful beast, for the inevitable fight. While i was waiting for some wings of the Royal Navy or the Royal Police, instead i found myself looking at three cruisers and it's escorts. Lead by the very own Prince Joseph Martius DeFrance, son and heir to King Charles. After 'forcing' me to eject the Orchid, I became his 'guest'. And this man had a lot of personal 'guests'.
For those that still not have had the distinct pleasure to meet this person, a word of caution. For the Prince is a practical devil in disguise. Intelligent, keen, ruthless and without a doubt, one of the most sadistic and ill persons I have ever met. And I have met my share of.. colourful people. His demeanour changed accordingly to the necessity of the moment and of those around. A true player of minds and hearts, he said and acted in the way that the people wanted. But in the shadows of the dungeons of his estate in Planet Nevers, that man allowed him to let lose of his true nature. Not a beast, no. For beasts have no fault in being so, for they never have been humane.
He is a child. An evil child that takes pleasure in tormenting, torturing and snuffing the light out of the existence of his toys and pets. Spoiled, with tendency to explode violently when things do not progress as expected, but as I mentioned before, intelligent. For when you thought you could glean a small victory in denying his obvious wishes, you were actually doing what he wanted. In sum, this man is someone that never should have a shred of power over anything, for his mere life is a danger to any and all.
And he had me in his power for a year. In the dark cold dungeons of his, I learned the limits of humanity and the infinity of pain that one can deliver to another. All the training that I received from my family, from the Liberty Security Force and even the Colonials could not prepare me to the full brunt of the experiences that came out of that man's mind. For he did not even allowed an end. No, he forced it in a way that there was no end to the pain and to the torment. If my bones broke from the beatings, his medical team would ensure I would heal as fast as I could, so he could break them again. If my heart would give in, feeling my essence, my very soul finally escaping the life of pain.. He would bring me back. To start anew. Needles under the fingernails. Broken arm. Broken leg. Slowly poured hot oil. Stabbings. Beatings. Electrocutions. Drowning. Beatings. Deprivation of sleep. Shot at. Kill me kill me kill me kill me, I muttered in my head. At last, the void would come. But the infernal light with burning pain shoved the darkness away.
“There is no one right way to live.”
Read it in one of my mother's books. Now, after all I have witnessed.. I can rightfully say that there is no one right way to die as well.
I was broken beyond words or doubt. My mind, fragile beyond belief due to the unrelenting tortures everyday, begged for release. If he would ask me what I was there doing, who had sent me, only my own stubbornness and will to win kept me on the path. I gave him nothing. I wanted him to kill me and be done with it. I wanted him to rage beyond belief. I wanted him to loose. For I thought I had reached a point of no return. I would never feel the sun in my face. I would never walk down a street with only my thoughts. I would never be me again. And then, that man upped the ante. His specialty was not the inventive ways with which he caused pain. No. He was far from over, and he was far from being satisfied. He meant to break me from the inside. And he did.
I guess I am to blame as well. I would not let go. Even when I could end my own life, I would not let go. He killed a child in front of me. He forced me to choose between the knowledge I had and that child's life. I chose the knowledge. I still say to myself every day that it was the right choice. But at the time, that transformed into something I was not prepared to be. A spectre. Holding to something that was not worthy of it. Or was it? I still cannot confirm it to this day. But I was there. Holding to life. For I would not take mine. I would not give those greedy eyes what they wanted. No.
And then the real party started. From pit fights, were I had to fight commoners, animals, soldiers, murderers, children. I won them all. And I died in them all. Bit by bit, I became a silent animal. Someone that the guards had to electrocute to get near. Broken arms, broken legs, once again and again. Torture, interrogation while I was slowly descended upon a spike aimed at my right eye. I can still taste the blood. Watching a man being tortured until his death, while I craved for the same release. His eyes, exploding outwards as water filled his cavities. His mouth, opened at first to shout in pain and yet, only silence and his own remains exited. And then, when there was nothing else for days, when I thought I had been finally forgotten, he chained me to the wall and had his way with me.
Broken bones once again, and a shattered soul beyond belief as he made me kill his fiancé in his name, in those dungeons. At least, she played the part. Her tears, begging him, begging me, as she bled. I gave her a quick death. The last one I gave in that hell. I became animal. I was rage. I was tempest. There, he saw me. He saw the real me. The pit fights were something I started to crave. Killing. Surviving. I started to laugh at my torturers face while they burned my skin. I started to yearn for the pain, for the smell of burnt flesh, for the sight of my blood hitting the floor.
Until nothingness arrived. I believe he got bored, where I had finally won, and in that, I had lost it all. Weeks passed and the cell's darkness permeated me. In that, my mind finally awoke from the nightmare where it had been plunged for months. I knew death was finally coming. One last moment of clarity before the void.
Destruction of self is the ever lasting torture. Not a singular action per se, but a set of them that ultimately becomes the tool of your own misery, lead by yourself, created by another, and to the end of your mind. Like a storm is composed by thousand of winds.
The door opened. Light shone. Blind by it, so bright. Door creaked under the weight. The sound, like the eerie rustling of leaves when you are alone in the park at night. Cold knifes, unwanted breath, fresh air poured into the cell, but I did not felt it. No. Panic, rage, survival, instinct was all that came. I struggled. I lost. Never mind the blood. Blood is good, I said to myself. My right eye was destroyed already. No light to it. My limp, exaggerated from the weeks of darkness in a tiny cell, delayed my rise from the beating. Raw hands and raw voices lifted me up from my weakness. Poor calloused hands. They miss three fingers now. For my teeth were still in place. More attacks. The roar of a caged animal. The wimp of a beaten down dog. Blood, mine and of the owner, trickled, trickled down from my face.
Pour combattre, I asked. Silence and footsteps were the answer, my feet dragging in the stone floor. I recognized the door they lead me to. The arena. My blood howled. My mind raced. My body tensed. And their arms pushed me in. Into the darkness I knew so very well. So many different smells. So many sounds. So many steps. So much darkness. I am in danger. Danger is around me. Permeates me like the death I ached every moment before. I jumped to the side, a thump was heard. An arm. A hand? A yelp. Ravenous sounds of animals attacking the origin of the thump. Two minutes spent in my very own silence, and blood gushed into the floor. I cradled myself. Not like this, it cannot end like this. I must survive.
Yes. These are the recollections of my last stay in Nevers. Two whole months spent in sleepless darkness. No sound. No light. Nothing but my own thoughts. Ten persons locked in an arena. No, we were not persons at that time. We were monsters. For two months, we had a shaky resolution of staying alive. Food was delivered, and one by one, with the sound of scratches on the floor, decided the order to the get their food. It was civil. Very civil for those circumstances. The last one was always the safest one, for everyone was busy eating whatever it was from the floor. The first one, the most dangerous one, for everyone was hungry and alarmed by the sound and change in the routines of our own minds. I still don't know why I did not slept from tiredness. A drug, pumped through the vents? Something in the food? When I was brought to that pit? My instincts? There is no answer. I raked my skin, my eye, my arms, ripped my nails, shoved my hand into my mouth and tried to ate it, looking for it.
The only answer to those two months was brought when the first mind snapped. Laughter. A woman? A man? I could not tell for our voices were less and less humane. Curious, mischievous and heartbreaking laughter. It contaminated our minds, that broken laughter. It made all of us to cross the threshold of madness and bestiality. It made us move. In that darkness, I lost myself. I was murder, I was chaos, I was nature, I was wrath. There was no Kaze Dagon. There was no family. There was no home. There was no Bretonia. There was no Kyoto. There was no Colonial. There was no Liberty. There was only the storm that broke from the jail I had put it in so long ago. An hour of bloodletting massacre with our own hands, mouths and legs, I shoved the ripped arm of a woman into a man's neck. I shoved it so hard I heard my weapons bones break. And the storm quieted. In that fragment of time, I was myself again. I had found myself in the eye of the storm. Quiet. Serene. At peace. But the toll was there, and with the exertion, I was done.
Gladly done. My heart was failing. My body was broken. I had fought to the end of my life. The darkness that had been home for me was finally willing to take me away.
And then the burning light came. Once again. Fire erupted through my veins, cold stabbed me without fear at the edges of my body, and the raw stench of my own feces and blood assaulted my senses. Gloved hands were all over me. Taking me back to life, to this life I carry now, a life I did not wanted.
I was to be the prize, not the winner of a sick competition. Not that it mattered. They saw me as a monster. A human that had lost everything. Wrongly. For I was myself again. But I let the image and fear stay with them. I saw their eyes, their fearful eyes of an animal that slaughtered, butchered and maimed in order to win. Also the fear of losing a prize that could not be lost. For I was finally broken beyond all doubt.
He won. At least, he thought he did.
With that victory, that man sent me away. For I was a toy that was finally conquered. No joy to play with me again, it seemed. So I was to be discarded. Two weeks later of treatments, of raising my health to a decent condition, my mind raced. What of me, now? I learned, I listened, I waited and I found my answer. My miserable self was to be presented to the masses as a spy from Sirius and then, beheaded.
Finally, after a year of my imprisonment, I found myself between the stars once again. Jailed, yes. But out of Nevers. My release was coming at last. My debts, wiped away. My sorrows, cleaned. My sins, expunged.
The fanfare of the dead. The last days before being shipped off to the Gap were filled with reporters shoving themselves near the entrance of the jail corridor, trying to get a picture of me and my other unfortunate cell mates.
The traitors. The spies. The ones walking to their death. Live, prime-time, in all the channels.
Such display did not phased me. A publicity stunt to aid the war machine, to instil fear in the hearts of the common people, since their support, forced or not, is always needed when one is waging a war. So for a few days, there we were, like animals in a zoo, well fed and well treated, behind bars and without a light in our eyes. Yes, for I saw myself in them. Resigned, awaiting a fate that we all knew too well. For the first time in a year, I actually had three meals a day. Several physicians saw the extent of the damage that my body suffered and the vote was unanimous. My right arm and my right leg were completely beyond any possibility to return to normal, such was the damage of consecutive beatings and bone breaking. Not that it mattered.
And then, finally the day arrived. The day of my death. When I saw the stars dotting the void through the very small and secured blast proof window, I felt a pang of regret. For everything that I loved and that I was about to leave behind. After the customary security check, thirty minutes into our voyage, I was keeping my eye glued to the void, almost drinking every little detail of the scenery. A small star shone suddenly at the distance. At first I didn't took it in account. But the star kept shinning, and getting brighter... And bigger. And has my eye got itself used to the depth, my mind accepted the fact that it was not a shinning star far away. No. It was a bright light shinning not even four kilometres away.
The armoured transport shook violently, throwing me and many out of our footing. Engines stopped and the light was shinning even more, so much that one could clearly see the blinding light pouring from the blast proof window. And as powerful it was becoming, an explosion and more tremors shook the transport and the light was no more. I quickly got up and dragged myself to the window only to see what I expected the least.
An Arbiter. A Hellfire Arbiter. Opening fire at the heavy escort vessels, one of its mortars cleaved one of the Royal Navy Gunboats without ceremony. A score of smaller vessels exited the Arbiter's bay, fighters and bombers, no doubt and engaged the rest of the heavy escort. She heard the cruise engines charging up, but suddenly an explosion broke the charge. A voice shouted in the main corridor: "C'est le Conseil!" And while battle raged on around us, my lips could not help but to smile. Legion unto Hell, I have heard the saying. And there they were. Why?
Have you ever had to wander through a soon to be exploded ship, fighting for that last chance, that last ride to life? It is exhilarating as it is a profound reminder that it is in these situations of stress that you truly know a person.
The GRP-TB Détente, the armored chariot to my then wanted and long awaited death, groaned under the pressure of lost weapon fire and cruise disruptors. The Hellfire was being true to its name, unleashing fire and brimstone upon the heavy escort of the convoy. Even in the void of space, where sound does not travel, one could almost swear that the shouts of the destroyed and killed were traveling through the walls of the transport.
Malfunctions, fires erupting, short circuits and smoke started to fill the small corridors, alongside with a very bright red klaxon light and sound. The guards that were securing our small corridor, frantically tried to obtain answers or orders through their comms, alas to no avail. Panic and fear instilled in their brains, they quickly tried to pry open the blast proof door that gave access to the corridor. Despair fell onto all the prisoners. We were to die here, locked away like beasts without a chance to escape.
However, fate chose differently that day. Either one of the engines failed or an inertia dampeners blew up, all I know is that our little closed world lost his footing and direction as we flew around without control or course. One of the guards got thrown against me, and in the midst of the pain, I managed to grab hold of him and got pulled to the center of the corridor, while chained. My wrist and foot wrenched in pain under the pressure, but before letting the guard go, I latched my fingers onto the portable remote lock mechanism and opened our collective chains. Suddenly, six men and women flew into opposite directions as the ship twisted and turned on its central axis. A thud and a sickening crack signaled the end of the life of one of the men, as the bodies smashed against walls, chains and seats. And as quickly the confusing turns and powerful shifts were pulling them apart, the one true ground came back in full force as the ship finally compensated the lack of whatever was missing.
Only four got up, confused and bruised. The two guards, myself and a hulk of a man, tattooed with quite a distinguished broken nose, dripping blood. We stood staring at each other for the good part of a couple of seconds, possibilities running through our minds, but in the end, the result was the same. Kill or be killed. As the guards went for their weapons, the hulking brute quickly closed in and grabbed onto one of them in a bear hug, effectively cutting his movement of grabbing his gun and eliciting a scream of pain from his prey. The other one managed to aim his gun at the head of the brute, but did not foresaw my foot dislocating his jaw. The shot veered, still hitting the hulk in his rib cage under the arm. The hulk and the hugged guard fell to the floor, blood pouring from the open wound. The surprised guard hit his head against one of the thick metal seats and cracked opened his cranium.
I do not know if it was from finally being free, or the good treatment in the past days, but I was once again in the eye of the storm. Calmly, coolly, I knelled and grabbed the gun of the dead soldier and two spare energy clips and looked at the squirming, but very much alive guard, trying to free himself from the dead weight on top of him. I closed in and without spending another thought on him, I ended his life with a shot to the head.
Recollecting my thoughts, I walked towards the blast proof door, and thankfully I managed to coerce it to open with a couple of well placed shots to the control console. Smoke exited the access port and trailed into the prisoner corridor. Looking back, the dead bodies were piled up and blood dripped from the walls. In the darkness, with the only light being the red klaxon present intermittently with the occasional fire or electrical sparks, my feet took me deeper into the ship. As I reached one of the main hubs, three guards were directing running people to what I think were the life pods. Their eyes met mine, and then trailed down to the blood that soaked my prisoner shirt. Their hands instinctively went to their side arms, as I fired mine. The persons that were being directed by them screamed and ran away, as the flash of laser fire painted the room for less than a second. The first shot went directly to the torso of the first guard, propelling him backwards. Before his back hit the floor, I was already jumping to the side, dodging a couple of shots and firing one of mine blindly as I hid behind the protection wall of the blast proof door that gave access to that hall. One in the count. Two to go. The ship groaned and the sound of twisting metal filled the hall, signalling that the end of the ship was near.
"No time to loose, then." I said, leaving the cover and raising my arm, opening fire over the panic filled guards that were startled by the metal twisting sound. Two shots later, the head of the second guard received an urgent intake of air and its innards were thrown with force at the wall behind, remains that curiously formed the shape of a butterfly. Another squeeze of the trigger, now at the third guard, and the lancing pain of being hit in my right leg flooded my brain. I missed and fell to the floor. The guard kept his gun trailed at my prone body and committed the most obvious of mistakes. He threw a quick look at his dead friends. By the time he looked back at me, I was already shooting his hands off. Blood showered me, warm and somewhat sticky. I licked my lips, feeling the taste and let my finger squeeze another shot at the now open chest of my target. With a shot so close, his body was thrown back like a rag doll, hitting the floor with a satisfying sound.
Pain latched on to me, as I tried to get up. Blood was pouring from the hole that was now residing in my right leg. I limped, following the trail of the people that were first being directed by the guards in the main hub hall. And I finally arrived at my destination, a big hallway with life-pod entrances, with one still waiting for someone to fill it. As I continued my limping, with blood denoting my path behind me, a voice shouted out from the other side of the hallway. A Captain. Probably the captain of the doomed vessel, I do not know. All I know is that I ignored the pain and tried to run to the open pod as fast as I could, given my condition at the time. The captain, a woman, thought the same. As she managed to arrive first at the pod entrance, I pooled all my strength, shoved the pain away, and threw myself at her, pushing her inside, before she could initiate the pod sequence.
Confusion hit, guns fell off, and we neither cared for them for we didn't wanted to damage the last ride from that doomed vessel. In the middle of kicks, punches and biting her clavicle, she managed to gain control over me and started to punch me, relentlessly. In the middle of that, the sound of the ship finally buckling under the pressure of the void outside became deafening and all I could register was that there was no time left. I managed to kick her away, but she latched on to my right hand, which I in turn, shoved my whole body in her abdomen, finally placing her almost outside of the pod. She tried to pull me away, in a desperate attempt of rage and denial, to take us both to Death, but I ignored it. I let her pull me. Right near the pod's console. Her eyes grew larger at the realization that I did not cared if I would lose the arm she was pulling. One click at the console and the pod's door closed, cleaving my arm in half, painting the door red, a most vivid red, and launching the pod into space. I fell back and darkness was beginning to take over me, as I bled out. I pushed myself up to the seat, with my cleaved arm gushing blood, and hurriedly initiated the cryo-protocol.
Debts like the ones I take upon myself are not so easily paid.
The one that I have towards my brother it is impossible to. For some, he rescued a monster. For anothers, he rescued a sister. For me, he rescued an empty shell. A shell that I am still filling.
During that less than stellar journey to freedom, it seems one the escort gunboats decided to open fire on the armoured transport. Luckily for me and whoever got out in time, its plans were cut short by mortar fire coming from the Libertine, the Arbiter class that delivered the Hellfire Legion to Dauphine. I woke up, shortly after, in a medical bay, already treated from my injuries and flooded with painkillers. Half an arm and a ghastly hole in my leg were the last piece of the legacy of my stay in Gallia. Yet, alone in that cold sterilized stretched, I finally felt safe. And ashamed. And furious. And in danger. After all of this, I finally felt the true reach of my actions during that year. Darkness clawed its fingers into me and finally gained the foothold it needed to creep even more. Never would I look for hope. For there isn't any. Never would I yearn for peace. For I know I cannot give it to myself. And as the dead cannot forgive, the living cannot forget. So I turned to the only truth that I learned in Nevers. Survival.
Looking at my condition at the time, my body was not fit for survival. First I needed to recuperate and recuperate what I lost. And thankfully, my knight in shinning armour appeared and with solutions. That devilish grin, of a playboy almost, yet of also of a child happy for the mischief, appeared in the middle of my self-examination. And as quickly appeared, it also disappeared when he saw the extent of the damage.
"Kaze..." His eyes betrayed the serious face he was trying to create. "What.." Meallan opened his arms while surveying the damage my body had suffered. Silence fell, and all he did was to hug me. It was good. It was warm. And even with him in a dirty flight-suit, it felt like home.
After a brief and very light explanation of what happened in the past year to me, I asked how did he found me. It seemed that the contingency plans I had in place worked. Albeit, the Legion had a lot of questions to me, due to the security breach of the knowledge of the location of the Vespucci System.
(06-12-2011, 01:58 AM)Kaze Dagon Wrote: In that cold room, with the hint of blood in his lips, Dagon continued to tell the why a Star Colonel leaved everyone that followed him behind. And that just churned him inside, since it wasn't fair neither to him, to Hunter or to everyone.
One of my sister's Nyxes. Unmanned.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, and Dagon looked at her.
I ain't joking or lying. Don't need to. The bloody Nyx was there to deliver a programmed message.
That my sister was imprisoned for more than three months, by the Gallic Royal Navy and that there wasn't any further contact with her. With that, a routine kicked in and it went to find me.
He rubbed his hands again, like a nervous twich, but Hunter quickly grabbed his hands and gently pressed them to keep him relaxed.
It's okay.
She said, looking at him fully in the eyes, just causing his heart to be torn a little more with regret.
I asked how did it find me, right there. The A.I. answered that the location of the Vespucci jump-hole was inserted by my sister during the Merc Wars in Liberty. How did she gained that knowledge? The A.I. didn't knew. If i can trust it? Hell yes.. My father developed it.
He gently removed Hunter's hands and rubbed them now, feeling slightly relaxed with it. She let it happen, but her eyes were ever questioning.
An Alpha 7 right in front of my face, created by my family. The A.I. suddenly started up the Nyx and left. Its orders were to await my sister's return in a safe location. And off it went.
Dagon gritted his teeth as remembering this was causing him to live all those feelings once again.
So.. I decided to find how big was the damage. And to know what happened to my sister.. I couldn't drag the Legion into this.. It would take too much time, too much danger to everything here with a whole unit snooping around Gallia. I had to go alone.
He looked at Hunter, and stroke her cheek and with a face torned with regret he said one of things he never thought to say to anyone in his life.
I'm.... I'm sorry. I'm sorry i left you behind. I'm sorry that i left everyone here without knowing. I'm sorry.. But i.. couldn't.
(06-12-2011, 05:01 PM)ChillerMiller Wrote:
Mell...
She smiled a bit and looked him directly in his eyes. She saw despair, fear, but also a lot of hope and she understood how he must have felt during the past months.
You didn't want to drag the Legion in this, your sister knows about the location of our home. Now she is in the hands of the gallics...
She sighed...
The Legion was dragged into this from the very beginning, but it was not your fault.
She walked towards the wall and leaned herself against it. She was thinking of something and focused her eyes on the remaining pieces of the bottle for some time before she turned herself again to Meallan.
But let me tell you, I am not worried at all, simply bacause when I look at you I can imagine how your sister could be. I am pretty much sure she won't tell our enemies where our home is.
Her eyes became a bit more serious...
But still, it was a mistake to go alone, you know we have unlimited ressources, unlimited possibilities. I will not hesitate to send the whole SAD and AR to Gallia to search for your sister. Not only because the Legion is in danger, also for you, because I don't want to see you like this, worrying yourself about your sister the whole day, not even able to have a clear mind. I'll make sure that your sister will return to you.
.
Two weeks later, I found myself in Leniex being debriefed and interrogated about the source of that knowledge. To simply put it, the Vagrant Raiders were to blame, since they also had interests back in the day, in Vespucci. After that, a very serious discussion with my brother took place, in that he, in no way was to pursue anything related to vengeance to the one that caused me such pain and destruction of self.
That is my duty. My task. And my reward someday.
Meallan found me a doctor, specialized in bio-mechanical surgery, and we began my physical reconstruction. Six gruelling months of physiotherapy and surgeries, locked away in Bering, where my brother took upon himself to give me the best tools and the very best bionics. He managed to get his sights and then later hands on a multitude of Rheinland-make military grade bionics and then proceeded to alter them to suit my needs. And as well a gift to replace my missing eye. At the end of it all, with a decent skin like polymer, no one would know what was grafted onto me. And at times, I still fool myself, subconsciously.
Finally, I was ready. At least, physically. My mental health at the time was.. questionable. All I saw was how to survive, and how to continue to live on. I knew my training and the way I am would eventually pull me back into action. For it is something I crave. I still do, I cannot deny it. So, coupling the fact that I was slightly paranoid at the time, my path was clear as day. To disappear in the noise. And what was the source for a lot of the noise at that time? A mercenary company, with a fame for following the contracts to the letter.