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Lugo
| Kal Joel Lugo | |
 | |
| Profile | |
| Origin |  Republic of Liberty |
| Gender | Male |
| Affiliation | Bounty Hunters Guild/Freelancer |
| Status | Active |
| Born | 16.11.794 A.S., Planet Houston, Texas (Age: 27) |
| Died | Still alive |
K. J. Lugo is an active independent Bounty Hunter born in the Texas system, lived his youth in the misery and shadow of Planet Houston.
Early Life
I was born presumably on Planet Houston in the late 794 A.S. and was left in an orphanage as a kid. Between work and sleep I had little time which I invest in visits to the nearby Houston's Starport, watching the ships fly away from the the planet slums. Until on the year of 805 A.S. the orphanage was set of fire by local bandits that had a taking off of one of the orphanage itself. Luckfully there were no casualties but unfortunately the orphanage owners didn't have any funds to rebuild it and left the kids wandering on the streets, looking for a job. Most of us found jobs and shelters at local markets, ship dealers, mechanics. I, with a couple of other orphans, found ourselves with a band of local Bounty Hunters who took us of.... pity under their shelter. The Hunters eventually found potential in some of us, me included, and started training us in various skills. Shooting, gun engineering, mechanics, tracking, some of which we found quite useful later.
Life with the Hunters
Eventually some of us were allowed to join their gang in some of the local bandit hunts. Some of us did quite well. So months, years have passed, doing regular jobs with the hunters, taking apart fragments of ships in the scrapyard, working as a mechanic in the local vehicle and ship vendors. I didn't think that I will even get off the planet and I grew with the thought of that. But I didn't mind, despite the hard life on Planet Houston I had found a family with the Bounty Hunters and didn't care about anything else, but hunting, fixing and basically working. All the money I had, I've spent either on ammunition, parts for my self made star fighter, Betty, or in the flight and combat simulators.
Life sucks and chances are always against you
One day in the year of 813 A.S. In another regular job deep in the desert. Some of the larger local bandit gangs had just pillaged a settlement and our group was contacted to deal with this matter. Most of our veteran hunters were unfortunately were on a hunt in the nearby Bering system for some more organized group of pirates were terrorizing the passing convoys. So Colonel Hartford, one of the remaining veterans in our gang, gathered four of the inexperienced hunters me included, along with some law enforcers and mercenaries hired back in the city, we've formed a twenty six person gang for the job. With a couple of vehicles, two light sand runners and an APC. We've reached the coordinates, to which some of the bandits were tracked, in a couple of days with our equipment. The sight however wasn't pleasing. We've witnessed a large spire coming out of the sand, definitely not the hideout of some lowlife bandits. Shortly after that we've heard a blast and one of the sand runners was blown to pieces along with its driver and gunner. Blasts and gunshots started coming from every direction, mercs, enforcers, some of my fellow hunters were gunned down. Our Hunter Squad was assigned under the alias Bravo Squad I was under the call sign Bravo Two. We were heavily under fire, when we decided to retreat and use an upcoming sand storm as a cover in order to survive. Everything that could have gone wrong happened that day. We were lucky that barely a third of our party survived. These bandits were better organized than the ones we were used to hunt, and they got out the best of us all.
Sound File Attached:
********static***********
Bravo Two: .... This is Bravo Two..... Sergeant Lugo, calling for..... rendezvous at a hill..... 300 meters east of our last position.....
Kappa Three: ....Kappa Three here we are taking a lot of fire... DAMN IT WATCH OUT CLEAR THE BLA.... *static*...
Kappa Five: ...Kappa Five... we lost....Kappa Three, most of the Charlie Merc Squad... and the APC... pull back!... PULL BACK!... This is Kappa Five we are reading a sand storm approaching.... rendezvous.... at Bravo One's location.... 270 meters south-east.... we'll have.... better.... chances with the.... storm there....
Lambda One: ....This is Lambda Squad Leader we copy ETA three minutes....
Charlie Two: ....This ain't what I was paid for... *blast*... we surrender, SURREND...*gunshot*
Kappa Five: ....Damn mercs... This is Kappa Five with whats left.... *blast* of Kappa squad.... we are nearing the rendezvous point.... provide cover fire....
Bravo Four: .... This is Bravo Four.... I lost contact with my squad.... Colonel... need instructions...
Bravo Two: ....This is Bravo Two speaking.... negative, the Colonel is dead.... follow my instructions rookie....
Bravo Four: ....Hh god we are dead...
Bravo Two: .... Head to the coordinates.... we are.... sending.... ASAP if you want to live Bravo Four....
Kappa Five: .... Where did they... get so.... much firepower from....
Bravo Two: .... To all bravo units near the hill, provide.... cover fire for Kappa and Lambda squads....
Bravo Four: .... Hh sh... *blast*....*static*
Bravo Two : .... Damn marauders....
Kappa Five: ... To all units this is Kappa Five, we've got Sand Storm incoming, ETA 1 minute. We will use the storm ...*gunshot*... cover...*sigh*....
Bravo Two: ... Oh shit we lost Kappa Five... to all units, gather... and stay low... we will use the Storm for cover and regroup....
Bravo Three: .... Here we go!!!.....
Kappa Six: .... I hate sand stor....*static*...
********static***********
Lost
After the ambush the sand storm covered us and kept going for like half an hour. When the storm passed we gathered whats left of our equipment, one of the sand runners was completely destroyed along with the APC which was severely damaged. The survivors from our party were exactly twelve, less than half of what we were at the start of the mission. We've started searching for shelter and water, wandering in the desert. Our long range comms were down, due to the static storm and we couldn't have called for any help. For three days we wandered in the desert, water supplies were running low, as well as the fuel for the sand runner, and each night we were freezing. Until on the fourth day we've found some kind of a crashed shuttle in the middle of the desert. We knew this was our chance, the ship was badly damaged, but we've managed to find a half-damaged antenna, but we've managed to get it working and we called for help immediately. The Planet Houston Security department sent the Navy with a Naval shuttle to rescue us. And that was when our luck had ended. Few blasts came from out in the open... they had tracked us. The Blasts came from afar, some kind of long range ground to ground artillery, but the crashed shuttle was protecting us. We knew our chances of fighting were minimal, but we had to hold on until the shuttle arrived. We've set our defense perimeter, we turned the sand runner into a driver-less bomb, and waited. they were coming closer and when they were close enough they opened fire at the openings of the ship. Gunshots, grenades, they threw everything at us. We've lost some of our own, but managed to make some damage as well until the shuttle came to pick us up.
Sound File Attached:
********static***********
Bravo Two: .... Okay folks, this is Bravo Two speaking, hold on your positions until help arrives. Don't play heroes and don't take unnecessary risks...
Kappa Six: .... Ready with the Kamikadze thing....
Bravo Three: .... Right behind you....
Lambda One: .... My boys are ready.....
Kappa Two: .... If I die... dip me in whiskey....
Bravo Two: .... Negative Kappa Two, nobody is dying today....
Lambda One: .... All units ready to fire on my command!..... wait for it.... wait.....All units fire at the first wave of attackers!
Bravo Two: .... Bravo and Kappa Squads fire at will....
Lambda Five: .... This is just too easy... come on.... oh dam....*blast*...
Lambda One: .... Damn, I lost one of my own....Less chatters boys, that's an order....
Bravo Two: .... Launch that sand runner Bravo Three, target where the enemy is most concentrated....
Bravo Three: .... Copy that, fireworks incoming....
Lambda One: .... This is Lambda Lead I lost Lambda Six....
LNT-Talleyrand: This is Captain Talleyrand of the Liberty Naval "Bison" class Armored Transport here for extraction. Whats your status down there?
Lambda One: .... We are pined down and taking heavy fire.... I lost some of my men and we've sustained heavy casualties.... But we are very happy to hear from you Captain Talleyrand.
LNT-Talleyrand: Understood. All guns target the bandits! Target the ones firing at our squads and leave the stranglers to run!
Bravo Three: .... They are retreating....
Kappa Six: .... Run you pigs....
Bravo Two: .... Great job there....
LNT-Talleyrand: We have landed and ready to begin with the extraction boys, hop in when you're ready.
Lambda One: .... Most appreciated Talleryrand, we are boarding the ship now....
********static***********
After the event in the desert
I have no idea how we survived that, but I must consider myself lucky. After the arrival of my superiors from Bering, me and the Rookie were commended, both from our veterans and from the local law enforcers. I was allowed to fly alongside with the veterans now. I was a given a ship, a Sea Serpent class BHG fighter and ever since hunt for the Guild. Work has brought me many different places, but none as brutal as Planet Houston itself.
Moving to Planet Manhattan and a New Contract
In 814 A.S. I've decided that pointless space flights and fuel wastes in attempts to find a well paid job, other than escorts, had to end. I was contacted by some suspicious businessman, claimed to work in cooperation with Ageira, who had offered me and a couple of other mercenaries and hunters for a job on hunting some Hackers gang who were trying to hit some of the main Ageira buildings. So, just an year after I've flown away from Houston I had moved to another lowlife misery of a planet... Manhattan, except for that this hole was shining and its most hardened criminals were wearing suits. Flying through the city to my appointment destination, I most of the city's... glamor. Light shining from every direction, strip clubs on every corner. On the highways some really luxury ships celebrating a new boom in the market, followed by a speeding LPI patrols going for the next case. On the docks I saw some libertonian, civilian ships alongside some kusarian, bratonian trade vessels and even reinlanderish looking ones. The more I was closing to the coordinates I was given the bitter the city was becoming. In the lower parts of the city I saw people getting beat up on the streets, some local bandits had robbed an old lady for the few possessions she had, a local street boss congratulating his gang for their last successful job, beggars, drunkards, dock workers coming back home. Apparently that's what the city was trying to hide with all that shining lights and glamor.
