Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: BlackFistKronos on 28-02-2010, 04:39:23</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 04:39:23</strong>
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				(http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/Aeronautica%20Imperialis/thunderhawk.jpg)<br><br>Trepdofson's East Wing Spaceport normally houses commercial lining and trading ships, but in the southwest hangars rest a small scatter of ships owned by the Private Military Company known as Fersalik. The company surely is small time, having only a handful of teams, 5 hangars, and a single office.<br><br>One ship, in perticular, looked slightly worn, stained, and borderline rusted. The ThunderHawk has been in flight for over 15 years, and has its beatdown look to show for it.<br><br>(http://media.moddb.com/images/downloads/1/21/20286/swkotor_2009-10-16_09-15-14-10.jpg)<br><br>The captain of the ship, Dick Moorhouse, sat in the ships main hub, the aged war veteran sitting upon a couch with his legs spread wide, donned in loose fitting urban camo cargo pants, capped off with finely polished black warboots. His right hand held a bottle of Bobay Blue and his left hand idly stroked his crotch through his pants.<br><br>In the center of the hub is a round, 3D holographic computer. With only a handful of upgrades, the computer was currently used for something much more important....watching 3D holographic porn, specifically a large cocked lizardman pounding his phallus into the sex of a human girl from behind. The computers' speakers echoed the sounds of the girl's fake moans all throughout the ship.<br><br>Dick slowly looks down at his hand that makes his own member grow in his pants, but more specifically to check his watch. With a light sigh, he realizes the time. Gotta get the mind back in the game, and get this cock soft again. He takes another swig of his Bombay before standing up and clicking off the porn. He caps the bottle and sets it aside as he walks over towards the walkway leading down to the main double doors at the belly of the ship. His new team, freshly assigned to him, should be arriving any minute...<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 07:42:14</strong>
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				Not even a day back from his mission to Kalinor, Markus found himself reassigned to another team. Apparently he had done nothing wrong, they just felt he would be more suited with the new team members he would be meeting soon. It honestly didn't matter to him, though, the abruptness of it all was slightly disconcerting; he would deal in no time however. <br><br>Thinking back to his mission he smiled. It had been a good one. The local human and 'lizardmen' population had been suffering troubles from some pirates which had set up a base. Him and his team had been hired to take care of the small time pirates. Well, they had proved more than small time. The ordeal had turned into quite the firestorm. Toting heavy munitions the pirates were supposed not to have, the fight soon became very noisy. Markus and his team had to call in the local militia for support, using the poor bastards mainly as a distraction/diversionary tactic. <br><br>After it was all said and done the militia had taken many casualties but not to many and the pirates had been all killed. The population didn't want to bother with prisoners so had explicitly stated their desire for no survivors. It had been an exhilarating mission, one Markus would not soon forget; especially since he had gotten some local tail at the end of it all as well. <br><br>Walking aboard the ship, Markus was wearing his armor with all of his guns magnetized in place. His helmet was resting in his armpit and his face showed his calm and relaxed demeanor. He had already had all of his belongings and equipment brought aboard earlier, so now all he had to do was meet his new commander, a hard ass and an old veteran. Seeing Dick standing in wait to meet his team, Markus gave him a the silent nod of his head as greeting.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 09:03:24</strong>
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				Pulling up outside of the hanger, a military transport vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp; It comes to a complete stop.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is a half-back hover vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp; Four military police exit the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp; Of the four,&nbsp; two have their antipersonnel assault weapons out and ready.&nbsp; &nbsp;As the four move around to the rear door of the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp; One of the other two unlocks the door and opens it.&nbsp; &nbsp;The remaining one would reach in through the open door.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He guide out a figure out of the back of the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>The figure is garbed in a long black robe with hood.&nbsp; The hood is up,&nbsp; hiding the face of the figure.&nbsp; &nbsp;But the contours of this figure, is definitely feminine.&nbsp; &nbsp; As the figure steps from the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp;A rustling of the robe,&nbsp; &nbsp;reveals a portion of flesh, a leg of this female for a brief instant.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Once she is out,&nbsp; &nbsp;the guard that open the door.&nbsp; Tells her to put her hands out.&nbsp; &nbsp; She complies as she extends her arms.&nbsp; &nbsp; Of which handcuffs are upon them.&nbsp; &nbsp;He quickly unlocks them, and steps back just as quick.&nbsp; As if this female would suddenly attack.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>However, she does not attack.&nbsp; Instead she merely rubs her wrists.&nbsp; Where the handcuffs had chafed them.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her facial features are hidden in the recesses of her hood.&nbsp; But the evidence that she has hair like the darkest of night.&nbsp; &nbsp;As wisps of her raven black hair billow out from under her hood.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The guards would back up,&nbsp; slowly until they get back into the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp;The hooded female would give a partial tilt of her head back towards the vehicle.&nbsp; &nbsp; As the it pulls away to leave the female just dropped off.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>She turn her head again, looking to the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;A few more moments in pose, with merely taking in the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then she would begin make her way up the ramp to board the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Making her way towards the two figures.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>So this was to be her new squad.&nbsp; &nbsp; Reassigned because she had assaulted the client,&nbsp; in her last mission.&nbsp; &nbsp; The provincial governor of Qualim.&nbsp; &nbsp; The firm had been hired to give addition body guard support for the governor.&nbsp; &nbsp;All had gone well,&nbsp; except for the governor had turned out to be lecherous.&nbsp; &nbsp;Made unwanted advances.&nbsp; So for such troubles he had been beaten severely.&nbsp; &nbsp;Of course,&nbsp; it had resulted in her arrest.&nbsp; &nbsp;It had also resulted in breech of contract.&nbsp; &nbsp;Which had led to her transfer to this new squad being formed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her gear has already been delivered, prior to her arriving.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>The tall lithe female would close the distance to the two.&nbsp; &nbsp; A quick glance sweeping glance is given at the others.&nbsp; &nbsp;She knew not who was in charge here.&nbsp; &nbsp; As she paused, hands coming up pushing back her hood.&nbsp; &nbsp;To reveal her long raven back tresses.&nbsp; She is a bit dirty and bruised from her stint in the stockades.&nbsp; &nbsp; For the men of the governor had worked her over.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her lower lip still slightly puffy.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Delilah Daniels reporting."</em>&nbsp; She simply state, to them.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp;
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 11:42:48</strong>
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				(quick correction, guys. He walked down to the front bay doors to greet his team, so they would find him there. no big deal, though)<br><br>As much porn as Dick watches, Captain Moorhouse did studying the dossiers of the team he was assigned. As soon as he saw the armored figure walk towards him, he knew exactly who it was.<br><br>"Markus Davian. I take it the job on Kalinor turned out alright."&nbsp; He read the report of the 'pirate problem' the planet had. Because of bad intell, both on the parts of the local militia and his own company's scouts, a small scrap turned into a huge shootout. At least Dick was assigned a guy who can hold his own when shit hits the fan.<br><br>Based on personal experience, in Dick's world, shit hits the fan...a lot....<br><br>He extends his meaty hand to the armored figure, and if accepted, gives&nbsp; quick, strong, firm handshake.<br><br>He looks over his shoulder at the military police drop off the hooded figure. Having a knack for seeing figures, he knew that it had to be female...in fact, by studying his team, he knew WHICH female it was, even before she said her own name.<br><br>"Miss Daniels. Your clothes are with your gear in the back. If either one of you need a wash-up, there's a bathroom next to the bunks. There's only one, and it's gotta be co-ed. I'm sure we all can be adults here."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 18:40:08</strong>
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				Markus took the hand of his commander and was careful not to squeeze to hard, he had his gauntlets on and could crush Dick's hand quite easily. <strong>Kalinor turned out alright. Used the local militia as a distraction while me and my former team sneaked in closer to get nice and personal. Despite being heavily armed the pirates were not the best I have encountered. Once we got past their main line of defense they fell apart, mostly.</strong> <br><br>Pulling his hand away he turned to look where Dick was looking, and saw the hooded woman being pulled out of the ship. He watched her curiously. As she pulled her hood away he wondered what trouble she had gotten into, her bruises clearly attesting to something bad. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 19:44:59</strong>
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				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=61950.msg2789236#msg2789236">Quote from: BlackFistKronos on 28-02-2010, 11:42:48</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Miss Daniels. Your clothes are with your gear in the back. If either one of you need a wash-up, there's a bathroom next to the bunks. There's only one, and it's gotta be co-ed. I'm sure we all can be adults here."<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>When she pushed back the hood of the black robe.&nbsp; &nbsp;It would cause the rope to partially open.&nbsp; Revealing not only the bruises described.&nbsp; &nbsp;But also the bright orange prison garb, a simple shift of a garment.&nbsp; &nbsp;Made more scantily in appearance due to her tallness for a woman.&nbsp; &nbsp;The shifts more for some one, four to five inches shorter.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she stands at least five nine, five ten or so in height.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Her tongue sweeps over her bottom lip.&nbsp; &nbsp;The act merely to moisten her bottom lip.&nbsp; As she gives a nod to Dick's words.&nbsp; <em>"Thank you captain Moorhouse."</em>&nbsp; A glance is given over to Markus.&nbsp; &nbsp;A genial nod is given in attendance of a greeting to him.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Mr Davian."</em><br><br>A moment pause then given.&nbsp; As her steel blue eyes look over the two men.&nbsp; Then a glance to the ship.&nbsp; <em>"If you all will excuse me,&nbsp; I shall see about changing.&nbsp; As well as seeing to washing the filth off." </em><br><br>With that the tall lithe woman would move past the men to enter the Thundarhawk.&nbsp; &nbsp;She needs no directions to find the back, her gear and the lavatory of the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;She has been on plenty of the same model of ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she enters the ship and makes her way towards the back.&nbsp; &nbsp;Quickly finding her gear.&nbsp; &nbsp;Claiming her gear, she pull it to a bunk that she will claim for herself.&nbsp; Going into her duffel bag she would pull out her Concordian dress garb.&nbsp; &nbsp;As well as the toilettree articles she needed to wash up.&nbsp; &nbsp; She shed the black robe.&nbsp; &nbsp;The orange shift is pretty much soiled with the dirt and grime of the prison.&nbsp; Along with dry blood from the beating she had been given.&nbsp; &nbsp;The shift she would also step out of.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unlike the robe that was dropped on the floor.&nbsp; The shift she tosses down the waste disposal chute.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unabashed with her nudity display.&nbsp; But then no one currently was on the ship with her.&nbsp; &nbsp; She pull out a towel from her duffel and walk across and go into the lavatory.&nbsp; Which is the only one aboard the&nbsp; ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;So hence it is co-ed.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 19:48:48</strong>
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				The week of "leave time" after that debacle on Sigma Iridani was finally over.&nbsp; The orders had come in just that morning, enough time for Brian to pack up his gear into a nice compact bundle that stowed in pockets of his armor suit.&nbsp; Electronic lockpicks, scanning devices, some small tools, and related objects that would get someone not in his line of work arrested on suspicious of criminal intent.&nbsp; And that was even before his small arsenal.<br><br>He strode into the hanger a sidearm on each thigh and under both armpits, a combat knife on his chest, the hilt of another sticking up near his right hip, a rifle slung over his shoulder and the hilt of a forcesword dangling from his belt.&nbsp; His armor was set to matte black, a good neutral-ist tone for dealing with a new C.O.&nbsp; Least, from what he'd heard, this one would be better than the last company man.&nbsp; Faulty intel had been the reason he'd been forced to take out half the target's garrison and blow a good chunk of the complex on what was supposed to be a simple bit of wetwork with some recon for the future thrown in.&nbsp; Bastard owed him for a week in the infirmary.<br><br>Anyway.<br><br>He glided across the hanger toward the ship and accurately picked out the new C.O.&nbsp; Brian did some research whenever he got bounced to a new unit.&nbsp; "Brian.&nbsp; I hear I'm your recon guy."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 20:09:09</strong>
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				Shortly after the arrival of the bruised and grungy woman in black, a male in black arrived. Markus instantly caught sight of all his 'toys' and eyed them all in turn. The forcesword was quite fascinating, but was not something Markus would have used himself. He preferred a more 'brutal' touch to his swords, though he knew perfectly well a forcesword was a nasty piece of work. Seeing all of the equipment made Markus wonder if any of the gear was custom or all stock; if they were custom he would make a note on finding out what any of the modifications were, if the man would divulge any of the information. <br><br>Upon hearing what the man was doing the suit caught Markus's eye realizing what it was. <em>Ah a cybersuit. Most interesting piece of work. Would love to make one, even if just for fun of creation.</em> Markus gave an approving nod to Brian. <strong>Nice gear.</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 20:12:25</strong>
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				Ly'Andra yelped with pure bliss and adrenaline as her hover bike whooshed toward her destination, skipping over or bobbing and weaving around obstacles that mattered little ... like other vehicles and pedestrians.&nbsp; Her platinum white hair resembled the tail of a comet as it rode the wind, whipping around behind her, and her glittering aqua eyes sparked even more than usual from the adrenaline rush.&nbsp; Speed was just so <em>freeing</em>!&nbsp; And her freedom was something Ly'Andra valued highly.&nbsp; She didn't like others thinking for her or dictating her actions.&nbsp; It was probably also the reason she found herself getting into as much trouble as she had on her last mission, which also happened to be her first mission.<br><br>She'd made the reluctant decision to join up with Fersarlik when business seemed to be waning.&nbsp; Sure she'd still get the odd assassination job or heist, but hired gun was what was most in demand and the blasted merc companies just kept taking her business!&nbsp; Deciding that survival was more important than pride in the long run she signed up up with<em> the</em> company.&nbsp; If she had to work with an organization it was damn well going to be the best.&nbsp; <br><br>In short order they'd assigned her to a team and subsequently a mission.&nbsp; It was one suited to her particular attributes, the royal house of Finelle required some extra protection that didn't look the part, able to be disguised easily as handmaidens or servants.&nbsp; And she'd done her job well, thwarting an assassination attempt and taking the attacker down with extreme prejudice and pleasure on her part.&nbsp; Really it wasn't her fault that those daggers caught her eye when they were in the temple and called out to her.&nbsp; They <em>begged</em> for her touch, for her to use them for what they were truly meant for.&nbsp; In her eyes it was a waste and verging on cruel to keep such beautiful weapons merely for display and ceremonial purposes.&nbsp; That wasn't respecting the weapon or the craftsman.&nbsp; In effect it was her duty to free them, she had had no choice.&nbsp; And they matched her eyes perfectly, who could question something like that?!<br><br>Apparently the brass could.&nbsp; Of course they had no evidence that it was her, she'd never be so careless as to leave any trace behind.&nbsp; Everything was purely circumstantial, she happened to be there at the same time that the heist occured.&nbsp; She had a taste for expensive weaponry.&nbsp; That was all they had, suspicion.&nbsp; How dare they, really?!&nbsp; Accusing her just because she'd happened to be a thief previously!&nbsp; The fact that she actually<em> had </em>taken the battle daggers really didn't matter, they had no proof so they had no right.&nbsp; And under this 'suspicion' of theirs they 'reassigned' her.&nbsp; That was code for 'we can't punish you because we have no real evidence but we can sure as hell make your life miserable and get you out of our hair.'&nbsp; It didn't much matter to her anyway, having to work under someone else's command would always chafe her regardless.&nbsp; <br><br>What <em>did</em> matter were those shiny glistening pairs of pure unadulterated art tucked away in each respective black boot that she wore and the mere thought made her full lips curl up into a smile.&nbsp; She had what she wanted, they could send her to the ends of the galaxy for all she cared as long as she'd get paid.&nbsp; Snapping her mind out of that train of thought her brilliant eyes set onto her destination and swooped into the hanger.&nbsp; The rather un-sleek ship that was apparently her new 'home', as if such a thing existed, lay before her.&nbsp; Speeding up she whipped into the docking area, doing a complete 360 before her bike finally howled to a rest.<br><br>Her smile was wide as she pushed her thick white hair out of her fair silver face and looked over at three males, part new team she was supposed to buddy up with.&nbsp; Swinging her leg over the bike she hopped off gracefully and walked with the same feline air toward them.&nbsp; Her long shapely legs were clad in a dark gunmetal pant which appeared to be leather, though leather usually wasn't that tight of flexible, and was tucked into her black shiny boots which came just over her knees and flanked at her upper thighs by two mismatched guns.&nbsp; A pale silver flat abdomen was exposed in sharp contrast to the darker colors and then was swiftly cut off at the rib cage by a dark purple top.&nbsp; The top was cut off the shoulder and had a number of slashes across the arms and chest, displaying the cleave of her round breasts.&nbsp; Not standard issue to be sure but fatigues just weren't her and Ly'Andra avoided them if at all possible.&nbsp; She tilted her head to the side in gentle greeting, tumbling her long locks, as she got within a few feet of the small group.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>28-02-2010, 23:16:00</strong>
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				The city was so large and cluttered; he had never seen anything like it. A locking gaze on the cluster of lights behind him caused him to slowly stop in his trail. It was a mesmerizing display, even more so than any Earth Colony. Watching it all day would have fulfilled his daily satisfaction, but the multiple rough open palmed slaps across his shoulder brought him back to reality. The man from customs met his gaze, making sure he was paying attention, and violently gestured in the forward direction. He was irritated that he had to leave his post and waste his coffee break to show this rock man where his destination was. Any tourist or visitor would have gotten lost too. They began to move.&nbsp; <br><br>His last crew that he was with was nothing special. They worked for the Earth Colonies, which are a collection of diverse civilizations in different parts of the galaxy that are ultimately governed by their home world, or what was left of it. The crew he worked with was small, only three others. On his final mission with them the pilot had become incapable of flying due to an accident on board. The other three could not pilot; he himself was just a cargo loader. He heroically took the reigns to finish the mission. This turned into trouble when he eventually crashed the ship into an asteroid. It was a total loss, and so was the supply on the ship. He was promptly terminated. It had taken him a lot of effort to get Fersalik to hire him. <br><br>Apophis watched the hanger come closer into view. His attention was grabbed again, not by the city, but by someone on a fast moving bike. It zoomed on by him, the only feature he could pick out on the blur was a trail of bright reflective hair. He stopped his trot again and watched the bike disappear into the hanger.<br><br>The customs employee slapped him on the shoulder again. It took him a few times before he could regain his attention. The man whispered something to Apophis, and held out his hand. Apophis just stared at him. He didn't understand what this man wanted. The intensity grew in his eyes, feeling dumb and was too embarrassed to ask him what he wanted. The man interpreted his frightful stare as anger, and slowly began to back off. He batted his hand in the air behind Apophis' back, gesturing that he wasn't worth anything, and ran back to his post.<br><br>Apophis took caution entering the hanger. He saw three men, and a woman, the one that he saw ride into the hanger. One in bulky armor who looked his physical match, one in black who carried many weapons, the bright haired female on the bike, and the tough looking aged man at the center. This was probably Moorhouse, he thought, but wasn't sure. Adjusting the large equipment pack on his back, he gave a sloppy salute to the party. <br><br><strong>"Apophis here.. reporting. Supply Clerk, uh, and General Security and Infantry, Mr. Moorhouse."</strong> The voice was surprisingly clear for a rock man, though his words carried a hint of an accent that could not be exactly placed by the vocals alone. His posture was stiff; he looked like a boy scout. <br>&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 02:22:19</strong>
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				Moorhouse nods to the cloaked and prison garbed woman as he looks over towards Brian.<br><br><em>"Brian, recon or...." he gazes at his array of pistols and blades, "...spare pistol incase we drop one, guy..."</em> He extends his hand towards Brian to shake it as well, <em>"you guys can head on inside, claim your bunks, clean up if need be. Our job is probably a day long trip at least, even during a hyperspace jump."</em><br><br>He gazes over at the spunky silver skinned girl walking back up towards him and nods towards her, "Miss Ly'andra. Come on in." His eyes did linger over her cute face and incredibly body longer than they should, and within his loose pants his own loins already started to stir, as if wanting to see what the fuss is all about. "Just like the others, gear's in the back, claim a bunk." he extends a hand out to her as well.<br><br>Finally, he watches the last member of his team step forward. His sharp ears pick up on the first title he given himself and he let's out a smirk, <em>"Supply Clerk and infantry? Good."</em> As he extends his hand out, he nods over towards the hangar crew, nodding at the hover bike. The crewmen, slightly confused, start to move towards the bike and push it towards the hangar doors.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 03:21:34</strong>
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				Obvious to the others arriving.&nbsp; The raven black hair beauty from Concordia is currently in the shower.&nbsp; Washing away the filth of prison.&nbsp; &nbsp;Standing directly under the spray of water.&nbsp; Letting it splash down over her face.&nbsp; Letting the dirt wash away along with the dry blood.&nbsp; &nbsp;Wetting herself down, as she lathering up the washcloth.&nbsp; &nbsp; Then scrubbing herself down with the sudsy soapy washcloth.&nbsp; &nbsp; She set the washcloth aside and then would wash an condition her long raven black hair.&nbsp; &nbsp;Finished now with washing and conditioning her hair.&nbsp; &nbsp;She would once again get directly under the spray of the shower head.&nbsp; As she turns her face upward into the spray.&nbsp; &nbsp;Letting the water spray rinse off the suds of soap off of her.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Finished she turns off the shower and steps out of shower.&nbsp; &nbsp; Drying off with her towel.&nbsp; &nbsp;The shower had taken her only about five minutes.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she did not linger overly long under the spray.&nbsp; With having moved quickly and efficiently in washing herself off.&nbsp; &nbsp;Setting the towel down after drying herself off.&nbsp; &nbsp;Delilah would begin to get dress.&nbsp; As she slips on her silver g-string bottoms.&nbsp; &nbsp; She then would put on the silver and black onyx nipple pasties.&nbsp; &nbsp;A small fine silver chain dangles from one pastie to the other across her breasts.&nbsp; &nbsp;She then put on her anklets, bracelets and arm bands.&nbsp; All of the same black onyx and silver.&nbsp; &nbsp;It felt good to be in proper clothing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Clothing that denoted her station.&nbsp; &nbsp;Oh she has some Terran clothing.&nbsp; But the teddies were so constricting.&nbsp; She could not understand how Earth women could wear so much.&nbsp; As if they were ashamed of their bodies.&nbsp; <br><br>She then turn her attention to brushing out her long raven black hair.&nbsp; Getting the tangles of knots out.&nbsp; As she brushed the silky hair out.&nbsp; &nbsp;She then apply some make up.&nbsp; &nbsp;As a Concordia Amazonian believed in one should take pride in their looks.&nbsp; &nbsp;It reflected what kind of person they were.&nbsp; &nbsp;A person that did not care about themselves,&nbsp; did not reflect well.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Finished Delilah would pick up her towel and wash cloth, hanging them up.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then would head out of the lavatory.&nbsp; &nbsp;To return her personal toiletries back to her own bunk and space.&nbsp; &nbsp; Tossing a glance about to see if anyone else has come aboard yet.&nbsp; Or was the two still waiting outside for the others to arrive.&nbsp; &nbsp; 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 03:51:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Panting heavily, a small, almost childlike in height figure ran for seemingly no less then her life.<br><em>Late on my first day.. Wonderful!</em> haunted her mind, words running in circles as her short legs sped her to where she should have been by now. But her work on her new toy had prevented her to notice the time. Even the alarmbells that had gone off had gone unnoticed, odd as it might sound.<br>Cursing most foul upon impact with a wall that just happened to cross her path, the small girl comes to a full stop in what seems to be the right spot ; the hangar bay.<br>Her eyes raised, not to look at the people here, but to nearly pop from the sockets at the ship in it. That could not possibly be the ship ?<br>Panting, she ran her hand through her hair and shifted her goggles back to look around, still on her ass from having collided into a wall.<br>Well she was <em>here</em>, apparently enough on time to have not missed the ship leaving.<br>She gave a man whom seemed to be the leader a two finger salute, blushing profoundly on the floor, then crawled up and swallowed something away before she clearly stated ;<br><strong>"Aellae Borislava, reporting for duty, <em>sir</em>!"</strong> and tried her best to stand at attention, but looking dignified was somewhat ruined by her goggles falling back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 04:39:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Somewhat concerned with his new C.O., Brian ignored the arrival of the, rather attractive, women.&nbsp; At the officer's comment, he shook hands and smiled.&nbsp; "I believe in being prepared for many eventualities, sir," he said, before nodding to the other man and heading inside.<br><br>That belief was one reason he carried blasters for penetrating power, a paralysis gun for prisoners, and a low tech slugthrower for when he couldn't get power cells.&nbsp; Or that one electrokinetic he'd meet years ago who'd shorted out all his energy weapons.&nbsp; Damn good thing his vibro-knife didn't need to be turned on to be useful . . . as the alien found to his dismay.&nbsp; The short blades were also good for silently dispatching sentries.<br><br>He let Markus lead the way and take his choice of bunks.&nbsp; To be honest, Brian liked being unnoticed in the background.&nbsp; And he didn't much care where he slept.&nbsp; "I take it you're front line?" he asked, trying to make some kind of conversation.&nbsp; Too much of his time in the field was spent in silence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 07:25:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hearing the sound a speeding hover bike caught Markus's attention as he turned away from Brian to look for the source of the noise which sounded like it was getting closer and closer. Suddenly a white haired woman came bolting in, making a full 360 turn on the hover bike like it was nothing and hopped off. She was quite the sight to behold, her silver shining skin more than a little appealing. Having her around would be quite enjoyable. Markus followed her with his eyes as she walked up. Silently he nodded her way, a slight smile on his lips. <br><br>Before he could think another thought, a large rock looking man came walking up looking more than a little bewildered. Markus had heard of aliens like him but never seen one before. For once, something other than a woman or a piece of technology caught his eye. This rock man looked like nothing short of a gray slap of marble or even cement. He almost looked fake, not even real, like the brass was playing some kind of joke on them. The more he looked the more he convinced himself this creature was the genuine article and not some sad joke. Giving another silent nod to the man, he turned to glance at the woman; having permission to go get bunks he left immediately.<br><br>Turning his head a moment he looked at Brian and nodded to the man's question. <strong>Front line and ships weapons and armor engineer. I can make any gun and armor you want, as long as I can get the parts and raw material, and I can repair anything. You need upgrades, just ask. I can make other things as well, though guns and armor are my specialty.</strong> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 08:32:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ly'Andra smiled at Moorhouse as he greeted her, noting the somewhat long stare running along the length of her body.&nbsp; It did little to phase her though, she was quite used to it, hell she was pretty much designed for it.&nbsp; Knowing she had an effect on him could become quite useful in any case.&nbsp; Her aqua eyes twinkled just a bit as she took his hand and shook it, firmly and confidently and surprisingly strong for her gender and size.&nbsp; "Pleasure to meet you, Commander," she said in a silky cheerful voice, bowing her head gingerly.&nbsp; "Then I suppose I shall go lay claim to one of those bunks."&nbsp; <br><br>Her eyes caught for a moment on the almost metallic looking male in the full body armor.&nbsp; His skin was similar to her's save for the color ... it intrigued her, as did the slight smile he offered.&nbsp; The other man, definitely military in appearance didn't seem to acknowledge her existence really, which she actually found quite amusing.&nbsp; As the large stoney figure approached she fought to keep her eyes from growing wide.&nbsp; She'd heard of his kind but never had she seen one up close.&nbsp; He was very formidable in appearance to say the least, dwarfing her in comparison and she had a moment of gratitude that he was on their side.&nbsp; <br><br>Seeing that there were others arriving she figured she'd better move her ass and get a good bed.&nbsp; Smiling to the carved rock in friendly greeting her ears heard something about weapons and upgrades and she felt a glow wash over her.&nbsp; That would be something she'd have to take advantage of.&nbsp; Swiftly she darted into the ship, a few steps behind the two males, cursing herself for having not gotten in before them.&nbsp; Ah well ... if she had to talk her way into the best bed she'd do it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 08:44:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Apophis turned his head to Moorhouse when he spoke. The response to his title, "good", made him feel a little more welcomed. When he went to embrace his hand, he had to hold off a bit. It was slightly tight at first, but gradually it was respectfully firm. It was difficult for him to even try not to stare at the other three, but the woman's skin looked strikingly familiar. If one of the elders of the old world were here, he/she probably would have mistaken this woman for Golemite royalty due to the brilliant luster. <br><br>The man in black with the weapons was quick as he exchanged only a nod. He could see out of his peripheral vision that the one in armor was staring at him. Apophis took note that he was human, or at least looked human. Even the eye catching reflection on his armor made him somewhat jealous; only if he was born with skin that had such a sheen. <br><br>To everyone he probably seemed a little nervous, and he was. He finally looked at the armored man, and watched him nod in his direction. A nod was a little too uncomfortable for the skin around his neck, so he gleamed a toothy smile for him and watched him lead the man in black to the instructed bunk area. Apophis shyly exchanged a glance to Moorhouse and the woman one last time, following shortly behind the two. A few seconds of thought finally got him to realize that the woman moved with great speeds into the ship, leaving him in her dust.&nbsp; It would be better that he personally got acquainted with each member of the ship inside instead of in the hanger. He stuck to this mentality when he vaguely noticed another shouting the word "sir" behind him en route to the innards of the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 08:47:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=61950.msg2791359#msg2791359">Quote from: Saerra on 01-03-2010, 03:51:28</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"Aellae Borislava, reporting for duty, <em>sir</em>!"</strong> and tried her best to stand at attention, but looking dignified was somewhat ruined by her goggles falling back.<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br><strong>"And here I was thinking you were going to no-show, girl"</strong><br><br>He lets his hand out for her as well, <strong>"come inside. Claim your bunk"</strong> He nods as he waves the other crew members inside. Behind them, the hangar crew walk the hover bike into the cargo hangar bay. He really didn't give a crap if it was company issue or not. He surely could use a fast transport and a decent rider at the helm.<br><br>As the hangar crew starts to walk out of the double doors of the ship. He steps towards the doors, hitting a button to close them both. He nods towards the 3 gentlemen and very attractive lady still at his cargo bay, and he starts to walk deeper towards the ship, gently patting the young Aellae on the shoulder, <strong>"we meet in the main hub in 15 minutes"</strong><br><br>He treads past the main hub, forgetting the fact that half the hardrive of the central computer is various files of 3D porn movies. He quickly walks up towards the main cockpit and starts up the preflight sequence. The cockpit had many chairs, made for a small crew of a navigator, driver, and of course the captain's seat. Dick was used to being on the move, doing most of the things himself. As his crew gets their chance to get aquainted and comfortable, the engines of the Thunderhawk start to slowly rumble to life.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>01-03-2010, 17:20:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The others began to filter in,&nbsp; claiming the other bunks.&nbsp; &nbsp; Looking up to glance over those that now came in.&nbsp; &nbsp; The Concordian&nbsp; female continued to set up her bunk area.&nbsp; &nbsp; It is the choice bunk that she selected.&nbsp; &nbsp; She was first in,&nbsp; so she chose&nbsp; the best bunk.&nbsp; It was that simple.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her outward demeanor genial towards the others that walked in.&nbsp; &nbsp;Friendly nod given, if applicable.&nbsp; While she finished her last bit of unpacking with arranging her bunk area.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Rising up,&nbsp; the hooded black robe figure that some had seen.&nbsp; Has transformed, now adorn in noble caste clothing of her people.&nbsp; The silver g-string lays tight over her vulva, forming a camel toe visualization.&nbsp; &nbsp;While the soft firm set of the curve of her breasts jiggled with her motion.&nbsp; &nbsp;Exposed with the wearing of her nipple pasties.&nbsp; The fine silver chain linking the pasties swayed with her motion rising up.&nbsp; &nbsp; Like others of her planet,&nbsp; limbs long.&nbsp; Especially her legs, of a lithe feminine form.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>Unless engaged Delilah would make herway to the ship's main hub.&nbsp; &nbsp;As the ship's engines rumbled to life.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>02-03-2010, 02:28:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=61950.msg2792239#msg2792239">Quote from: BlackFistKronos on 01-03-2010, 08:47:55</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"And here I was thinking you were going to no-show, girl"</strong><br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>A blush spread over her face at his words, but he was right, she had to be more responsible and keep track of bloody time for once. Then again, her toys... <em>Damnit..</em> shot through her head as she spurted off to the vessel <em>Mainhub, 15 minutes. Hm, maybe that gives me enough time to.. </em><br>Biting her lip hard enough to leave a good dent, she shook her head and called her mind back in track. There would be plenty of time to tinker at a later moment. Maybe during the trip to where ever they were going.<br>Stroking her utility belt lovingly, Aellae nearly bumps into an man that appeared to be made&nbsp; out of rock.<br>Blinking a few times, she mumbled an apology and glances around. Of course all the good bunks were allready taken. Muttering softly, she drops herself one that seems to be vacant and drops a bag on it, her hand raising to push her goggles back so they rest on her head and not hang in front of her eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>02-03-2010, 08:40:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The conversation between the guy in black and the armored one had a few interesting words he picked out. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, only got himself caught up in the middle of them speaking when they all went to the bunkhouse at the same time. The elders that raised him on the Earth Colony were very conservative and taught him their native tongue for the first two and a half decades of his life, but was moved to English like the rest of his kind. It didn't bother him to speak it, but he still had a habit of picking out key words in certain dialogues instead of completely understanding the whole sentence. This was something he definitely wanted to work on and change. "Weapons", "repair", and "upgrade" were the key words he acknowledged.<br><br>Apophis found a large empty bunk in one of the corners of the room. He slid the chains that he used as straps for his large backpack down his arms and placed the thing beside his bunk. Soft mumbling from behind him began to grab his attention. His chin met one of his shoulders to see what the comotion was.<br><br><strong>"Oh, hello"</strong>, He muttered to the short red haired female. She frantically moved to another bunk. He shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on his claimed bunk. Thoughts of what the armored one said, those three words, pestered him. He wanted to ask him about one of his weapons, but he would wait until a later time. It might be rude to ask him so soon. The rumbling of the ship's engines naturally caused him to look up toward the ceiling, imagining the beautiful nebulae of space that he would see once again.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>02-03-2010, 18:26:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Moorhouse normally was used to scurrying around the bridge of his spacecraft, basically filling all the empty chairs himself. He sets the interior stabilizers to a thigher setting. The crew will feel themselves just slightly heavier, like they all gained 2 pounds.<br><br>Dick sets himself down on the pilots chair slowly hovering the Thunderhawk up through the overhead large hangar doors. He shifts up the throttle and the Thunderhawk powefully punches through the air. The stabilizers inside the ship make the hard accelleration feel like just a slight little bit of turbulance, but nothing too jarring.<br><br><strong>"Dara..."</strong> Dick calls out as he yanks up on the piloting stick, pointing the Thunderhawk to the sky. He shifts to full throttle and hits the auto-pilot button.<br><br>A very sultry female voice echoes through the bridge speakers, "<strong>Yes, Captain..."</strong><br><br><strong>"Set navigation to Raslin. Inform the ship when we're ready for the hyperspace jump"</strong><br><br><strong>"Yes, Captain"</strong><br><br>Dick stands up from the pilots seat and plops down on the elevated Captain's Chair. A button is hit as he leans back.<br><br>The entire ship echoes a <em>DING DONG</em> before...<br><br><strong>"Attention newly formed crew of the ThunderHawk, this is NOT your Captain speaking. Just a dirty old man that signs your checks...<br><br>I estimate a 7 hour flight from here until our destination. After you claim your bunk, report to the central hub for team and mission briefing...clothing optional"</strong> He prayed to the cosmos the guys on his team took it as a joke. <br><br>As for the ladies....well....<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>02-03-2010, 20:48:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Cordonian female, having been on her way to the central hub of the ship.&nbsp; &nbsp;Enters just as the announcement is made.&nbsp; &nbsp;Says not a word.&nbsp; &nbsp;First impressions are big on her part.&nbsp; She seen a lot of nifty toys the others carried.&nbsp; But so far not one she would risk her hide or back for.&nbsp; &nbsp; Nor trust enough to watch her own back.&nbsp; An such a&nbsp; state would not be good for a team that had never functioned together before.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Plopping down in&nbsp; one of the seats.&nbsp; &nbsp; Lost in her thoughts.&nbsp; &nbsp;She would take a look over the room.&nbsp; &nbsp; No thought is given to what type fo mission.&nbsp; &nbsp;If it needed them, it meant the potential for high risk was great.&nbsp; &nbsp;Just the details would be flushed out.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 02:51:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The familiar feel of a moving ship paints a content smile on Aellae's face and she just about leans back as the intercom comes alive.<br><em>'Seven hours till landing. That would be plenty of time!'</em><br>Glancing around, the small redhead wonders how to actually claim a bunk, then just decides to leave her bag there. It wasn't essential, it only held clothes and such, unlike her belt of wonders and toys.<br>Nodding once to herself, she slips off of her bed, then thinks for a moment about what type of ship this is then logically deducts where the hub would be in this type of ship before she starts moving.<br>By now she had encountered some of the team and it had only confirmed what she had thought upfront. All of them seemed to be planet born, standing a much taller height then herself.<br>Ah well, it would probably make her more unique amongst her teammembers. But if only one would make any comment, she'd show them how easy it was to blow out a wall and toss someone through the nearest airlock.<br><br>Wandering into the designated space, she inclined her head lightly at the woman allready seated. For a moment the name of the race popped to her mind, but Aellae just shrugged at the linked information that spilled her mind.<br>Teammember, thus closer to the heart then family would be. Someone to die for and expect to die for you.<br>Struggling with the concept, the small redhead took one glance at a chair and decided she would drown in it, thus took a seat on the armrest instead. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 03:01:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Markus continued on in and took a bunk nearest the wall, liking to have more wall space than open space around him when in a room. He sat down on it for a moment getting the feel of the bed. It seemed stiff enough, though his armor laden weight was pressing it down even more. He put his helmet down on the bunk and then went into the cargo hold to get his belongings.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 07:26:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ly'Andra walked into the shared sleeping area and scanned the options ... not really much to choose from but she'd been used to far worse in the past.&nbsp; She decided that it was definitely better to be on top so she claimed a bunk that from her perspective offered optimal security and visibility of all the other bunks.&nbsp; If one of the crew decided to pull something there was no way she would be caught unawares.&nbsp; Mussing the bedding in such a way that showed&nbsp; it was taken she moved back into the hallway and strolled down the steel corridors to the cargo hold for her things.<br><br>As she walked the captain's voice came through the ship's intercom.&nbsp; There was now way to hide the smirk that resulted and the inward chuckle from both the terms 'dirty old man' and 'clothing optional'.&nbsp; For a very small instant part of considered the whole clothing optional idea before thinking better of it.&nbsp; A distracted crew is a useless crew and it sounded like their 'captain' was distracted enough already without any nudity added to the mix.&nbsp; <br><br>Ly'Andra hadn't brought a whole lot with her, just some of her favorite clothes and shoes, and weapons, of course.&nbsp; And some of her essential accessories.&nbsp; They were necessary though to her doing he job at peak performance, in her eyes anyway.&nbsp; Entering the cargo bay her boots barely clicked on the grate flooring as she walked.&nbsp; It took her only a second to realize she wasn't alone but rather in the presence of the armor clad bronzed male.&nbsp; She half smiled for a moment before her jewel like eyes quickly located her pack and grabbed it from the heap.&nbsp; Turning back to the apparent weapons designer, she looked at him almost appraisingly for a moment.&nbsp; "So what exactly did you do that got you assigned to this luxury liner?" she asked curiously in a honey smooth voice, her left snow colored eyebrow arching a bit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 07:41:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Markus was inspecting his bags to ensure all of his tools where present. He would need every last one to make weapons and armor, let alone making sure they were the best quality possible. Sure he could make armor with a laser torch, but it would be like attaching iron armor onto a square shaped object and praying it fit properly, then hoping it could take a hit from a disruptor rifle and not leave a hole the size of Mars in its place. <br><br>Hearing a faint sound behind him he turned partially to see the silvery skinned woman walking in and claim her gear. She was quite the female, her beauty more alluring than he could remember from any other woman he had seen before. As she asked her question he rose to his full height and regarded her a moment. <strong>Can't answer it. Just returned from my last mission yesterday and found myself reassigned. That's all I know.</strong> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>03-03-2010, 10:37:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Interesting ..." Ly'Andra mused, brushing a stray piece of platinum white hair away from her silvery face.&nbsp; Whatever it was it must have pissed off the brass, this was definitely not a place for the upwardly mobile.&nbsp; Though she was having a hard time picturing what he could have done since he seemed rather military by appearance and not as creative with rule interpretation as she was.&nbsp; His features however, while chiseled and classically handsome, hinted at some form hidden of roguish behavior and her mind reeled for a moment with the possibilities.&nbsp; "Well whatever it was you must have made quite the impression," she smiled almost mischievously over that, knowing that she was at least in good company.&nbsp; <br><br>"Did I hear correctly before ... that you repair and upgrade weapons?" she asked with eager eyes, sounding more enthusiastic than she had wanted or intended to.&nbsp; Weapons were after all her favorite accessory, she couldn't really help herself.&nbsp; With effortless ease she swung the gray pack over her right shoulder, making it look much lighter than it actually was.&nbsp; "Sorry, I didn't mean to eaves drop, those words just tend to catch my attention involuntarily."&nbsp; Her body shifted to stand a bit more comfortable, the refined musculature of her abdomen curving as she moved to lean more on her right leg.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 00:53:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brian took a new look at what he now assumed was customized gear.&nbsp; He had an eye for spotting weak point, vulnerable spots.&nbsp; It had become second nature, instinctive, after years in both of his professions.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Thanks for the offer," he replied.&nbsp; "I'm the only one who touches my gear, though.&nbsp; I may not be a great engineer, no real skill there at all, but upkeep's no problem."&nbsp; And he had issues with jury-rigged gear or the people who constantly tinkered with their gear and that of others.<br><br>In the bunk room, he tossed his rifle onto a bunk, claiming it.&nbsp; The rest of his gear stayed on his person.&nbsp; Given his armor's properties, it really felt like he was carrying no weight, instead of the twenty, thirty pounds of ordinance and toys that were actually stowed.<br><br>Rather than getting involved in the somewhat closed conversation going on in the room, Brian headed into the corridor to take a quick glance around.&nbsp; After ascertaining the location of the galley and the head, he went up to the hub . . . <br><br>. . . and wasn't the first one there.&nbsp; A quick nod was spared for both women.&nbsp; But, he didn't introduce himself.&nbsp; There'd be time later when everyone was together.&nbsp; Then he could be introduced once instead of seven or eight times.&nbsp; So, he grabbed a seat near the edge of the room, where he could be inconspicuous.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 07:06:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Markus eyed her intently as she spoke watching how her lips moved, how her eyes dazzled as she spoke, and how her cheeks flowed to the bobbing and weaving of her full lips. Her hand motions and hip movement also caught his eyes, which moved up and down to catch both her gorgeous face in action and her sensual hips, broad enough which made for good hand grips during some rough riding. <br><br><strong>Impression sure, bad one, not so sure. Corporations can be so fickle sometimes.</strong> It didn't really matter to him, at least not yet anyways. He was mainly a mercenary for the thrill of combat, the money was not bad but his job back home paid the bills. He still worked for the company that first took him in, making weapon and armor designs for them. They also supplied him with parts and raw materials from time to time when he needed them; he still had friends there. <br><br><strong>I do make, repair, and upgrades weapons and armor. Its my specialty.</strong> He began walking out the hangar, still looking at her as he did. <strong>Walk with me, lets not keep our new C.O. waiting.</strong> With that he turned his head to face the hall and walked back to the bunk room to stow his gear, then would go back to the command room, walking besides the silver skinned woman.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 07:50:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Friendly nods would be given to both the petite woman that came into the central hub.&nbsp; As well as the guy (Brian)&nbsp; that also would also come in.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>Delilah would look over the two.&nbsp; Studying each individual as they came into the central hub.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The woman she had not seen before.&nbsp; &nbsp; For she had been in the shower when the woman had arrived.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Speaking of the team and the guys.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had learned a lot since joining the company.&nbsp; &nbsp; Males outside of her home world.&nbsp; Had a propensity to what they called 'dick waving'.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;To see who had the bigger dick.&nbsp; She wonder how soon, past the captain of the squad.&nbsp; &nbsp;Before these males would begin waving there dicks to establish a pecking order.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>The weapons carried by the first one to come in.&nbsp; &nbsp; Has caused her to think of this.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is not likely they will get into a firefight now.&nbsp; &nbsp;An if they did,&nbsp; side arms would not be effective unless it became ship to ship battle..&nbsp; &nbsp;No the guns were for the thumping of chest and the dick waving.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Which is comical to the Cordonian.&nbsp; &nbsp;For males are the inferior sex of the human species.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 07:57:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The terbulance of takeoff threw the rough skinned one into a soft teeter from left to right. This was due to him slowly melting into the mattress from his less than average weight. A bed that looked like it was made for someone less than 300 lbs. was what he was stuck with. In a worst case, he might break the thing and have to reimburse Moorhouse for it before he even gets paid, and get banished to the floor.<br><br>Didn't matter to him too much; excitement was over the horizon. Apophis wanted to laugh out loud at himself with these thoughts spinning around in his craggy noddle, but noticed that most of his crewmates were still in the room. He watched them file out after the announcement was made over the intercom. When the bunkhouse was empty, he let out a snicker. It took him a bit of work to lift himself from the bowl he made in the mattress. He looked down at his backpack. The thing wasn't made of any woven materials. The entire thing was metal and plastic; it resembled a small portable refrigerator. There were no drinks or food in it, only his weapons, cloths, some mining tools and parts. No trust was established with any of the crew yet, he only hoped that his outer appearance kept those unwanted away from his things. Compared to everyone's nice things his gear was probably junk.<br><br>Entering the hallway in a steady jog, he gradually crept up to the armored one and the bright luster woman on their path to the hub. He sped up his jog to pass the woman; now she would eat his dust from earlier when they entered the ship. A grin flexed the stone around his face in his accomplishment. The small crew was scattered all around the room. Apophis schlepped himself to a single seating unit closer towards the center. This one was much sturdier than the mattress, like it was made for him. He cupped his hands over his knees and waited patiently, head bobbing around checking out his crewmates again.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 08:39:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She caught his intense flame colored eyes rolling over her body and she smiled mentally, deciding that it should definitely make for a more pleasant working environment.&nbsp; Those eyes of his were unlike anything Ly'Andra had seen before, so was the rest of him for the most part, though that armor wasn't really doing anything to display the view.&nbsp; She couldn't help smiling a bit more over his non-chalant attitude toward the corporations view of him, something she could definitely relate to.&nbsp; There were reasons those people sat behind desks all day!<br><br>His specialty was weapons ... how delightful.&nbsp; Maybe this crew wasn't as rag-tag as it appeared, there was some hidden potential worth delving into that was certain.&nbsp; Ly'Andra followed as he began walking toward the command center, amused by the fact that he was concerned about making the C.O. wait on them.&nbsp; He was right, better to start off on the right foot, gods knew it would hit the fan at some point anyway and later as opposed to sooner was a much better option.<br><br>"Oh I should drop this off on my bunk," she mentioned as they got a few steps away from the sleeping quarters.&nbsp; She didn't particularly care for the idea of holding it through the entire meeting.&nbsp; Before she could enter the quarters the stone man darted out, flying down the hallway at greater speeds than she thought him capable of.&nbsp; Her aqua eyes were wide for a moment before she broke into a melodious giggle and shook it off.&nbsp; Ducking into the spartan quarters her muscles contorted along her silvery flesh as she launched her pack up onto her bunk, secure in the knowledge that nothing would break or be damaged.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>04-03-2010, 18:43:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the crew assembles in the central hub, Dick eventually decides to make his nochalant entrance. He steps out of the captains chair on the bridge to walk down the stairs towards the central hub of the ThunderHawk.<br><br>He gives nods to all the new 'employees' of his team as they gather around the central computer. His posture is strong and tall, his physique very muscular for a human male his age. His beard, though volumous, is well groomed...soldier, well groomed, not aristocrat-like.<br><br>His sullen eyes gaze around his team as they finish assembling in the central hub.<br><br><strong>Welcome to the ThunderHawk. This ship is over 15 years old, and has seen well over 3 dozen battles. It's a beat down, scrabbly old war-horse, and until it keels over and dies, it's your new home for as long as you are on this team.<br><br>Speaking of this team, it has no name of its own. Fersalik calls us the beta-dogs, the leftovers, and some teams calls us 'pirates and whores'....maybe they're just jealous...<br><br>Before we introduce each other and&nbsp; I have some rules to uphold. The cosmos and gods all have their commandments, and as long as youre on this team, you are going to follow mine..."</strong><br><br>A breif pause as he gazes at his team, and as he speaks, he takes a second to look each of them in the eye, his pace a slow walk around the central computer.<br><br><strong>1... I am the Warlord and it's my devine duty to lead from the battlefield and not from the office.<br><br>2... I dont care how big your&nbsp; gun is, or how well you can fuck. I will treat you al the same, no matter of&nbsp; gender, race, or pedigree.<br><br>3... you'll never carry out an order I wouldn't be willing to do myself.<br><br>4... I expect you to keep up with nesesseary training to keep you strong and sharp. In short, the more you sweat, the less you bleed.<br><br>5...Respect and honor is the way of War...first priority, the mission. Second priority, your teammates...then finally, you. Thats the packing order.<br><br>6.... This team is ran by a 'Dick'tatorship, with freedom of speech. That means you're free to say whatever the fuck you want... but if I give out an order, you carry it out. You don't have to like it, you just have to do it.<br><br>7.... When it doubt...KISS....keep it simple, stupid....<br><br>8.... Never just assume....because you'll make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me' </strong> another slight pause as he slightly gives a smirk at Marcus. He knows damn as well what happens when militia and company intel&nbsp; 'assume' how strong enemy pirates are. He of all team members know damn as well of this rule.<br><br><strong>9... As much as they hate you...they're still gonna pay you. Which means you will kill your enemy by any means nessesary before they kill you.<br><br>finally, 10....You will know, live, and learn to love this final rule...in the field of battle, there are NO RULES. You will win at all costs.</strong><br><br>He gives himself one last pause, eyeing each team member, gazing and reading their reactions to his rules.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 00:46:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brian sat impassively once the speech started.&nbsp; It was, in his experience, best to smile and nod when necessary through these things.&nbsp; They were all pretty much the same anyway.&nbsp; As usual, the only troubling one was number six, but so long as the guy didn't micromanage and try to tell them individually how to do their jobs, no problems.&nbsp; His first boss had tried that, once.&nbsp; The guy hadn't survived his first job, got himself taken out by a punk kid with a throwaway special, the kinda laser that was good for one small power pack before it got tossed.&nbsp; Hell of a way to die.&nbsp; Whether he learned his lesson or not, Brian never knew.<br><br>So, he spent the time scoping out the teammates.&nbsp; Both Markus and the C.O. seemed like they knew what they were doing.&nbsp; Not that this said much, everyone here, so far as he knew, was a veteran member of the company.&nbsp; The women were . . . interesting in their variety.&nbsp; The sparkly woman was notable.&nbsp; The Condordian, he knew from prior experience, would be good in a fight.&nbsp; Beyond that, he quite frankly didn't care.&nbsp; The spacesuited one, well, she was a second random element, so far.&nbsp; Which left the Golemite.&nbsp; He'd only heard of the race by reputation, never actually seen or worked with one.&nbsp; Wasn't really certain how to kill one either, if it came to that in terms of jobs.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 02:47:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Aellae found herself nodding at the rules as they were set out, now and letting a soft grin out at the Leader's suggestions behind his words, or, more commonly, the suggestions were blunt and straightforward.<br>Tilting her head, her goggles annoyingly shifting until she just grabbed them and pulled them around her neck, she made a full study of the man speaking. He wasn't half bad. Not for his age, nor for his race. Full human? Hmm, she couldn't recall when she had one last.<br>Shifting her eyes, glancing around the team, they came at a halt when she caught sight of a silvery skinned woman. Both brows raised and she was unable refrain from staring. Now there was a race she hadn't beheld before. How unique. What an interesting puzzle.<br>Quickly going over the information she held about races not encountered in recent past by her kin, she felt a short jolt in her memory, but couldn't grip it. The woman was a mystery still.<br><br>Contemplating, the small redhead plucked something from her belt to toy with ; a small vial containing a highly explosive liquid she idly let dance over and through her fingers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 07:04:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Never in his life had he worked beside a female before. Joining this crew for Fersalink would prove to be a life changing event for him, he only hoped for the better. It would give him some time to refine his English and get used to the slang. Apophis redirected his attention from his teammates and up into the eyes of Moorhouse when he passed in his line of vision. The rules that he read from his mental list left him scratching his head. He could understand almost all of what he said, but some choice words were beyond his language barrier. Apophis made an effort to hide his hand as it slithered down his waste and into one of his deep pockets. His hand emerged with some digital paper and a writing stylus. <br><br>The technology of this stationary amazed him. The paper was designed to recognize characters of whatever language it was set to. No matter how sloppy he wrote characters on this paper in the past, it would always correct them into a straight, sleek typeface. It even had a voice recognition interface, but Apophis would write the words down for his own practice. Hunching over his hands, he began to take down the parts of Moorhouse's speech that he didn't quite grasp and study them later on.&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 07:53:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Delilah would draw her legs up.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she would shift to sit in the style of her people.&nbsp; By squatting on her heels, in the chair.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her gaze would shift and linger each of the other team members that came into the room.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then going to look at the captain Moorhouse.<br><br>As he would give the old reliable squad introduction greeting.&nbsp; &nbsp; Nothing like the standard rote, to put one at ease.&nbsp; &nbsp;To make one feel right at home.&nbsp; &nbsp; It would bring a smile to her face.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Her gaze is then directed towards the smaller redheaded woman.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she is dexterously manipulating something in her fingers.&nbsp; She would note, that it is done with apparent effortless ease.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As well with the thought.&nbsp; Finally one she could trust with her back.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she would not let the smaller stature of the woman belie the evident wealth of skill she has.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>With that thought, she would turn back to the c.o.&nbsp; &nbsp;and await for him to speak again.&nbsp; If he has a mission already for them.&nbsp; Or were they still awaiting one to come down from the company's central office.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 19:07:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Markus strode alongside his new shipmate and teammate easily. It didn't even seem he had to do anything special to get her to like him, she seemed to warm up to him from the get go. He was not quite used to that but it didn't bother him in the least either, made things so much simpler. As the two walked into the bunks to deposit their gear, he smirked as he realized her bunk happened to be above his. <em>What luck...</em> He said to himself. As they were leaving he turned to see the big rock man running past them, quite fast, more so than he would have imagined that hunk of earth could go. <br><br>Entering into the room, the two were idly chatting. Taking their seats Markus gave his attention to Dick and listened silently as the rules were listed off one by one. None of them seemed unreasonable, so Markus had no objections. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>05-03-2010, 23:57:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ly'Andra walked swiftly with her armored comrade, making small talk as they found the hub in short order.&nbsp; His golden bronze skin still intrigued her immensely as the light through the corridors glinted off his skin in a similar way as it did hers.&nbsp; She was glad to be getting on so well with at least one member of the crew thus far, it was much easier to fight beside people who were at the very least your amicable acquaintances.&nbsp; And it was all the better that she was getting along with the person in the bunk below her ... animosity could certainly make that an awkward arrangement.&nbsp; <br><br>She took one of the last remaining seats as they entered the room, moving fluidly with barely a sound, silently greeting the rest of the assembled team. Nonchalantly, before Dick began laying down his laws, Ly'Andra nudged the large rock mass of a male and smiled.&nbsp; "You move pretty fast, big guy," she whispered pleasantly before turning her attention forward.&nbsp; <br><br>As she listened to her new captain, sparkling aquamarine eyes intent, she inwardly grinned a bit.&nbsp; He certainly held many titles ... 'captain', 'dirty old paycheck signer', 'warlord', and she had no doubt it would make things interesting.&nbsp; Everything he said seemed fair in her eyes, things that she would most likely take initiative in doing on her own anyway.&nbsp; The only few things she would have to get used to once more was taking commands, she'd been her own boss for quite some time and liked it that way.&nbsp; That in itself would be an adjustment, as would working as a group once more.&nbsp; It was far easier getting a job done when you only had to worry about your own hide.&nbsp; Though there were certain situations where having a team would come in handy.&nbsp; <br><br>Her full lips curled up just a bit as he recited number nine.&nbsp; That was exactly what she liked to hear.&nbsp; They didn't have to like the way she did things, they just had to compensate her for doing them.&nbsp; And she was certainly used to going to great extents to accomplish the task at hand.&nbsp; She wondered if all the rules were settling in well with the rest of the newly assembled team.&nbsp; Further she wondered how good they all were in a complicated situation ...&nbsp; <br><br>Ly'Andra suddenly felt eyes upon her as the petite redhead began staring a bit.&nbsp; It was something she was used to.&nbsp; From her experience her physical appearance was unique and she could hardly blame others for taking note of that as well.&nbsp; Raising her platinum white eyebrow in returned she offered a small half-smile in the younger girl's direction before returning her attention to the center of the hub.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>06-03-2010, 07:25:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Just the thought alone of writing down the words on this paper triggered a manic rush in Apophis, similar to the one in the bunkhouse. He remembers the sentences looking like the movement of a snake when the AI inside the paper instantly corrected his chicken scratch into a generic print. On the day that he purchased the paper he spent the night scribbling doodles and words down to see what the AI would match it up too, acting like a child with a shiny mint half dollar. He wanted to laugh out into the hub, but again remembered his company.&nbsp; <br><br>Apophis decided it would be better to take down all of Moorhouse's words verbatim so he could have access to the speech at his leisure. The nudge by the sparkly woman was barely noticeable; only when she softly began to whisper to him did he pull his pitted face from the paper. It took him a few seconds to process her statement. Hearing her say that he was fast on his feet added to his excitement; he realistically wasn't. There had to have been something about these women that got them a spot on this mission. The raven and red haired ones, and especially this one, did not look fit for combat to him. Her reaction to him in the hangar was proof that she was probably not Golemite royalty, as all those of regal authority could recognize all their kind by a single greeting. This was one universal trait that all Golemites shared. Maybe she was toying with him. <br><br>He knew that if things went south in a combat situation, his primitive instincts would kick in and he would probably try and save her if she was in need. As a teammate he would remain loyal no matter what. The same could be said for the other two as well; females in his culture were viewed as the ones that were to be protected and were not placed in combative roles. Struggles with his kind and the humans resulted from this. The pent up emotion inside him would be exerted to this woman. He shielded one side of his face with an open hand, the side facing Moorhouse when his back was turned, and said as soft and silent as he could, <strong>"I know, I know!"</strong> The stylus and paper almost slipped out from between his fingers when that low toned exclamation passed his lips, he only hoped Moorhouse didn't hear it. As Moorhouse was returning to face him he regained his hunching posture and started to write down his speech as he originally planned to.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>11-03-2010, 18:36:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dick finally lets a pause as he finishes his rules, slowly walking back over towards the round central computer, hitting a couple buttons.<br><br><strong>Before we jump into hyperspace, we'll get our mission briefing. We'll get to know each other during the jump.</strong><br><br>Meanwhile, back on the planet that the ThunderHawk just left, a single female woman of human origin hears a series of beeps and a flashing light upon her holographic computer screen. She gives a nod to herself as he raises up and walks out of her desk, towards the corner of her massive open office. <br><br>At that corner stood an elevated platform 3 feet in diameter. She steps onto the platform and straightens the clothes of her business suit before she calls out Transmit<br><br>The office lights dim and the blinds automatically close. The platform lights up and what seems like a 360 screen revolves around her body, showing a full 360 view of the ThunderHawk central hub, and all its inhibitants.<br><br>In the ThunderHawk, the central computer projects a holographic image of the suited woman.<br><br><em>Mr. Moorhouse. I see your crew assembled here for your assignment briefing. Very well. The coordinates to planet Yarlrus 7 is being transmitted to your ship's navigation computer now. Our client prefers to keep himself anonymous, but the task he asks is of high importance and of high profit.<br><br>He asks that you retrieve a high value Solarian datacube from a local militia stronghold on that planet. You may use whatever methods necessary, but you alone are responsible for the consequences.<br><br>Anyone with any knowledge of the outer worlds of this galaxy can read the subtleties of her words. Yarlrus 7 is one of many worlds that are in mafia control. Corporations control the central planets, and various crime lords control the outers. 'Local Militia' is just a politically correct way of saying 'mob stronghold'<br><br>I'm also transmitting the coordinates to the drop point, once you retrieve the datacube. Once the datacube is delivered, Mr. Moorhouse will be transmitted your payments and he can disperse them to you as he sees fit.<br></em><br>Good Luck<br><br><br>The holographic woman fades from the central computer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>11-03-2010, 21:29:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Markus watched the hologram quite intently as he listened to the briefing given by one of the Fersarlik reps. He had seen the woman countless times before on many other briefings. Her face and form fitting suit was quite familiar to him now. At one time he had entertained ideas of wooing her into his bed but decided she was not worth it. Some women just were not safe bets, and he got the feeling she was probably one of them. <br><br>After the briefing Markus contemplated the mission they had just been given. To say it was going to be hard was an understatement. Mafia controlled worlds were nasty places, generally, and their thugs for armed forces were, generally speaking, fairly well armed and quite deadly. Nothing like a real military but never the less still quite a formidable threat. He wondered if he and the rest of his team would fit in. He knew many mafia groups loved to hire his type of person, while others preferred more classy representation on the front lines which made them look better to the big dogs; the rich, the civilized. He was not familiar with the planet except by reputation as a Mafia world.<br><br><strong>Do you have any specific information about Yarlrus 7 Dick? What kind of men does the local mafia hire? Level of technology? Are these men good at killing or just for show? Will we blend in or stick out like a sore thumb?</strong> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>11-03-2010, 21:59:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The gaze of Concordian swung from the hologram to Dick back and forth.&nbsp; &nbsp;As the mission brief is laid out for them.&nbsp; &nbsp; Through out Delilah remained quiet, listening to the projection.&nbsp; &nbsp; After wards her gaze would fall upon Dick.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Through unlike others who jumped with questions.&nbsp; &nbsp; She would wait for the complete mission specs to be given.&nbsp; &nbsp;Before she would form any questions.&nbsp; <br><br>As for knowledge specifics already known about Yarlrus 7.&nbsp; &nbsp; Nothing other then it was in mafia control sector.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Be it mafia or where ever,&nbsp; she is assured that the mission is high risk.&nbsp; &nbsp;That there would be no other type of mission given to them.&nbsp; &nbsp;Not with the collection of individuals that now gathered for the mission briefing in the room.&nbsp; &nbsp; With that her gaze would shift to slowly languish over each of the others in silent thought.&nbsp; <br><br>Finished with looking to the others.&nbsp; &nbsp; Her gaze returns to Dick.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she awaits him to fill in the details.&nbsp; &nbsp;Or if the projected hologram of the woman would be the one to fill in the rest.&nbsp; As to what kind of fire power and level should be expected.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The same questions that the one called Markus asked in impetus state.&nbsp; &nbsp; A sign of eagerness it would seem to her.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>12-03-2010, 01:41:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brian almost grinned during the briefing.&nbsp; They'd be heading to a place that, if they weren't, were close to his old stomping grounds.&nbsp; The question was whether the new C.O. would make use of his specialized knowledge.&nbsp; That could tell him quite a bit about the man's command style.&nbsp; He took a few seconds, more than enough time for Markus' questions, to consider offering his knowledge or waiting to be asked.&nbsp; On the other hand, the other man's questions could be interpreted as being asked.<br><br>From the corner, Brian decided to speak up, and damn it all if he was somehow 'out of turn.'<br><br>"Blending in's no problem," he said, answering Markus' final question first.&nbsp; "Scoping out potential targets for the datacube to be in shouldn't be a problem, assuming no one here minds a few ruses and a bit of playacting.&nbsp; And assuming someone can get me a list of the families, houses, and cartels on the planet.&nbsp; At least the major players.&nbsp; The important question is who currently holds the datacube.&nbsp; If the suits can't tell us that, or at least a general idea of what info's on it . . . the job becomes more interesting, but not impossible."&nbsp; He looked at Dick as he spoke near the end, hoping against hope that the guy could make this a slightly easier run.&nbsp; Really, the major players were the important ones.&nbsp; He could bluff the minor players easily enough, especially if they had some computer talent in this crew.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>12-03-2010, 01:51:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>'Yarlrus 7?'</em> her nose wrinkled a bit as her hand thoughtlessly slipped the vial back where it came from and plucked a detonator from the belt to randomly click the buttons. As the hologram of the woman informed the team of the mission, Aellae shifted on the armrest, recalling a few travels in the sector the planet was located in. They were hardly without incidents and often a cargo was lost even if the crew of the ship had put up a fight. The 'safe travel fee' was just too high to pay. <br><em>'Well, maybe I get to blow a few of the suckers up this time.'</em> she thought, a grim grin spreading on her face as she thought back <em>'...would be nice for a change.'</em><br>Coughing in her hand, as to disguise the tension growing, the small redhead failed to suppress a slight shiver. Growling low to herself she called herself back to order and pulled a straight face with some effort. Whatever had happened here in the past was in the past. This crew seemed at least to be able to keep themselves alive.<br>Besides, she'd get to blow stuff up and get payed for it, right?<br>The redhead sucked the air between her teeth. She could fool herself, but she wondered how evident it was to the rest this first ever mission for her would be a step back into her recent past.<br>Folding her arms before her chest she decided to hear the questions of the others first, see if any new information would be brought up, then decide if it was time to start sweating this mission.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>12-03-2010, 03:02:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ly'Andra watched the holographic communique with interest, her sharp eyes never leaving the woman's image, not betraying just how much the wheels in her head were turning with each new bit of information fed to her.&nbsp; Yarlrus 7 she'd only briefly visited once and it was only a stopover on her way to another system.&nbsp; However she <em>did</em> have some possible contacts within other mafia branches who could be of use.&nbsp; She just had to think hard as to which bridges she'd burned, or stabbed with elated abandon, and which still were of use.&nbsp; Even with a few of them probably less than pleased to see her at first she could most likely talk her way back into their good graces.<br><br>Attentively she listened to the other's questions and suggestions, not speaking up as of yet.&nbsp; She preferred to fully run through the options in her own mind before voicing her opinion, as well as take in what everyone else seemed to have in their heads.&nbsp; She could most likely get a detailed report of the major players from someone on the inside, or someone who knew someone on the inside.&nbsp; A few names came to mind who were worth contacting.&nbsp; Wait ... one was dead ... one was imprisoned on a remote planet ...&nbsp; That left one, one who's name made her want to both smile and sigh at the same time, that too however she kept within her mental caverns leaving her silvery face impassive.<br><br>"I'm fairly certain I can get some information on the key players if we're in need," she finally said with a reflective and silky voice, her aquamarine eyes meeting Brian's in response.&nbsp; "Just have to get in touch with an old contact."&nbsp; Her face remained contemplative and she decided that yes, it did pay to have friends in low places too.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Goss</strong> on <strong>14-03-2010, 00:34:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The light from the 3D image reflected from the glossy surface of the digital paper like a mirror. Apophis jerked his head back, shutting his eyes tight for a few seconds. When he opened them, he looked up and saw the image of a human female standing in the middle of the room. A look of shock spread over his face to see that she had entered the room without him noticing. She was ghost-like, the colors seemed almost monochrome.<br><br>This triggered a memory of a recent event. Humans communicated with these things like a phone. He never used one before, but he was now certain that she was not physically in the room. They called this a "hologram". Humans also told him that his gun used technology similar to this 3D display. The image charmed him to say the least; her words were just as amazing and pretty. A small button in the upper right hand corner of the paper flashed from red to green as he lightly touched it with his stylis. It was the voice recognition system. It printed the contents of her statements as quick as she spoke them. Later he will file these documents under the name "mission1".<br><br>When the crew began to ask their questions, he slowly leaned back into his chair. The only two pieces of information that he knew about this "Yarlrus 7" was that it was not a pleasant place to be, and the name was a little difficult to pronounce. Exchanges between the one in black, one in armor, and the sparkly one was beyond his comprehension. Apophis knew that the problem was finding the exact location of the data cube, he only hoped that it was locked up in a big safe somewhere. If so, he could dig out an alternate path to reach it. He slid the paper back into his pocket and waited to speak.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>16-03-2010, 21:22:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dick stays quiet for a bit, listening to the input of his crew. He liked working with intelligent people who know their way around sticky situations and bad neighborhoods. He peers over to Brian to reply,<br><br><strong>I can't say much about the planet. Only stopped by there twice, but the Hawk's database MIGHT have some info on at least the larger groups on the planet. If you wanna play ghost around a couple of the major cities, be my guest, but I have a feeling we're on a tight clock.</strong> He pauses to look over twoards Ly'Aandra, <strong>go ahead and try to make contact with that friend of yours. Keep your affiliations to us and your involvement on the planet discreet.</strong><br><br>He paces around the central computer as well, finally getting the first person to ask questions, Marcus.<br><br><strong>It's lawless out there. Weapons and arms are openly brandished, and the hired men are anyone from sophistiated networkers to blind, brute muscle. I even heard of some Ork Raiders hitting a place from time to time.</strong> The orks were always a wild-card problem in the outer world planets. Tribal clans with no allegances except for their own. Their sole survival rests on pirating, pillaging, and raiding. <br><br><strong>I take it we'll fit right in, just as long as we keep our more 'expensive' toys hidden. Tech level out there is 'moderate' at best, borderline archaic most times. The mobs emphasise style over functionality.</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>16-03-2010, 22:35:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Listening to the others, and then finally the captain.&nbsp; &nbsp; Delilah would draw her gaze back to the captain.&nbsp; After she had looked to the others again.&nbsp; &nbsp;As he finished with his impart of additional information.&nbsp; &nbsp;She would ask a question of her own.<br><br><em>"So we will try to blend in with the local population?"</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;She would ask, for no other reason for trying to fit in with the tech level of the planet.&nbsp; &nbsp; If have superior arsenal,&nbsp; then no reason not to unleash hell in a shock and awe direct attack.&nbsp; &nbsp; However,&nbsp; if such a intrusion wants to be kept on the down low.&nbsp; &nbsp;Then a adherence to the planet's tech level would be kept.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br><em>"So do you have a plan.&nbsp; I have a suggestion if we are going to try and blend."</em>&nbsp; Delilah would add in.&nbsp; Then she would fall silent.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she await to hear the answer.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vandren</strong> on <strong>17-03-2010, 04:59:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At the suggestion of "ghosting", Brian shook his head.&nbsp; "No, sir, no 'ghosting' . . . at least not at first," he said.&nbsp; "Assuming the suits don't know who has the data, we'll need to do a bit of recon first."&nbsp; He'd noticed that the boss hadn't answered either question about knowing who had the package or what was on it.&nbsp; That lack of information limited the possibilities.&nbsp; "Depending on the major players, there might be some markers I can call in as well, but blending and bluffing, at least until we know exactly what and who we're dealing with, is closer to what I had in mind."<br><br>He'd spent enough years working for organized criminals that he figured he could find a way to blend in and move in their circles again.&nbsp; It hadn't been all that long since he'd been an enforcer.&nbsp; The old tricks and moves shouldn't be gone yet, Brian thought.&nbsp; Hell, technically, he'd spent most of his life on a planet pretty similar to this Yarlrus.&nbsp; The old instincts should kick in quickly enough . . . assuming they did so early enough to give his newfound teammates a heads up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>21-03-2010, 18:04:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was better than he thought, lower level of technology, low level kind of scum; which meant they could fit in quite well. At least they had not been sent into a total death trap, hopefully; one never knew if a mafia world was a total death trap even in a low level kind of world as this one. The Mafia was just to unpredictable at times to place certain bets on, there leadership was constantly changing, at least in the less powerful Mafia controlled worlds from what he knew. This would be a rough ride as far as he could tell. Something was likely to go wrong, something always went wrong when a place like this was involved.<br><br>Markus began making a mental note of what gear he would need to leave behind. He realized all of his gear was high tech and would stick out so he began thinking on how he would make himself 'look' more low tech. Remembering a technique which would work, he began imagining how to do it. As long as it did not permanently scar his gear he could use his plasma torch to make superficial burn marks on his arm, dull the color, make it look as if he had been hit many times, just over all make his armor look less pristine. This he could also do to his weapons; since most of these low lives stole their weapons, had no idea how most worked anyways, and were to stupid to make their own, few if any would even be able to guess at the quality of his gear and if they did he could lie and say he stole the gear or killed someone for it. Markus smirked to himself realizing how easy it was to get along with criminals sometimes, but knew other times, they were to unpredictable to deal with safely. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cassiopeia</strong> on <strong>21-03-2010, 19:06:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ly'Andra smirked just a bit at Dick's comment.&nbsp; "Don't worry, no one would believe I've gone ... corporate ... even if I flat out told them," her voice was edged with a melodious almost-chuckle.&nbsp; Though it wasn't exactly something she wanted to admit either.&nbsp; There were plenty who would view her as a sell out, or think that she'd gone soft, though her latest mission said otherwise.&nbsp; No, it suited her just fine to keep her 'affiliations' to herself, she was perfectly happy with the rest of the galaxy thinking of her as an 'entrepreneur' still.&nbsp; After all, this <em>was</em> only a paycheck to her, and a way to find some challenging jobs that filled her lust for thrills.<br><br>The silver skinned woman raised an eyebrow over the idea of emphasis on style over functionality.&nbsp; She preferred both to coexist seamlessly in her equipment when at all possible, and the weapons she carried regularly on her person rarely belied their actual power, which is part of the reason why she loved them so.&nbsp; Her legs crossed smoothly and her hand came down to caress the area of her boot where one of her gorgeous daggers were sheathed .&nbsp; Their beauty was such that no one would ever guess the sharpness of their blades, at least not until it was too late to do anything about it.&nbsp; Her teeth sunk in to her full lower lip, just a bit, as the idea of using them in combat began playing through her head.&nbsp; That was mental meandering meant for another time though, like lying awake in her bunk and staring up at the ceiling, not during a mission briefing.&nbsp; <br><br>Her mind returned to her contact, wondering if he could provide her with any information on what sort of 'expertise' the crime bosses were in the market for.&nbsp; That could most certainly be of use.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Saerrael</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 04:17:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=61950.msg2845514#msg2845514">Quote from: BlackFistKronos on 16-03-2010, 21:22:11</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>I take it we'll fit right in, just as long as we keep our more 'expensive' toys hidden. Tech level out there is 'moderate' at best, borderline archaic most times. The mobs emphasise style over functionality.</strong><br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Aellae couldn't resist a peek at her utility belt and chew her lip. Maybe the newer detonators had to remain behind. As a most recent addition to her collection, they not only looked shiny, but they were nowhere near the level of technology the planet would know. It wouldn't be that much of a problem. Heck, she was able to make detonates herself with nothing more then a paperclip, some wire and chewinggum, but they were her new pride and joy ; new shiny toys to make things go 'boom'.<br>Sighing softly to herself, she made mental notes which to remove and started thinking about the other materials. Most where hidden in the belt's pockets, they couldn't be that much of a problem, could they?<br><br>Raising her glance back up, it got draw towards the metallic skinned man. For a moment she couldn't help but wonder how he would fit in in a world with a low tech level.<br>Trailing her eyes slowly over his gear, which she was sure was only a small taste of what he'd carry in battle, Aellae licked her lips. Normally she wasn't much for common weaponry, but what this guy was equipped with was more then impressive and it made her wonder where he had gotten them from.<br><br>Leaning her elbow on her knee and her chin on her handpalm, her gaze darted back to the Leader, wondering what other information he would have she had to listen to. Surely they had to introduce themselves to eachother? Or did this bloke think her psychic?<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elven Sex Goddess</strong> on <strong>22-03-2010, 06:35:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The others spoke up,&nbsp; Delilah would continue to listen to all their suggestions.&nbsp; &nbsp; However her gaze fell upon Dick.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;What did the captain have to say.&nbsp; &nbsp;What did he agree on.&nbsp; What plan did he already have formulated.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>While she also wondered about the ones with the full suits of body armor.&nbsp; &nbsp;That might just stick out like a sore thumb.&nbsp; &nbsp;Would they be effective without their suits.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>With that thought, she turn her attention back to looking over the others.&nbsp; &nbsp;Which one or plural could be likely.&nbsp; &nbsp;Were here with the company not for the pay.&nbsp; Not a concern about the missions.&nbsp; &nbsp;Just plain homicidal,&nbsp; lived for the thrill of killing.&nbsp; The power and rush of such.&nbsp; Those types usually needed to be put down quick on a job.&nbsp; Less they get everyone killed.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Space Mercs: Soldiers of Fortune - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BlackFistKronos</strong> on <strong>06-09-2010, 17:10:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dick looks to Vandren with a slight smirk, <strong>"I appreciate the edgarness, but I made sure to have that already taken care of."</strong><br><br>He hits another button on the center node computer, zooming a holographic globe far into a 3D layout of the city. They can already see the run-down aura of the place, just by the models of the buildings alone. They're angular, boxy skyscrapers, some of the taller and grander buildings having square landing pads for ships and cruisers on them.<br><br>Another button hit, and the image zooms into another building, probably the 5th largest in that city. What really sticks out is the massive orbital grade cannon at the top of the building, and the 4 smaller turrets on each corner of the skyscraper.<br><br><strong>"in backwater planets like these, the gap betwen rich and poor are canyons wide. No one else has this kind of resourse to mount these types of artillery...except for the Red Sun Mafia."</strong> another button presed and holographic flatscreens pop up, orbiting around the image of the building. each flatscreen shows a survailence camera picture of an individual human in a suit. There are 6 of them, all different shapes and sizes. <strong>"Each of these guys run each of the individual cities on the planet...they all answer to this guy..."</strong> all the flat panel screens dissipate and one larger screen pops up, showing an aged, stocky, human male with silver grey hair and a full matching beard <strong>Dimitri Matushenko"</strong>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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