Shadowwalker
Member
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2022
- Messages
- 38
- Reaction score
- 7
Crews of transport units ferrying armor plating and large amount of spare parts for mechs vehicles and troop armor suits. Armorers transporting large racks of battle rifles and personal explosives. Russing their stockpiles alongside medical crews with their stockpiles of medical items. All of which being put into large frigates about to take flight into the unknown towards the PMC forces first warzone as per contract. A large gathering in a parade field near the makeshift fleet. Consisting of a modest sized pmc force of Pilots and security personnel. In forest camo stand at parade rest before a squad of hand picked mech pilots and the pmc platoon leader. A strange man with a skeletal face covered with some sun glasses and wearing a desert camo uniform. A wispy black smoke dotten with yellow eyes mimics his shadow.
As he shows up all but the hand selected mech pilots leave to get onto the transports.
Turning to the selected mech pilots he addresses them. “At ease, as you know you have been selected for your skills to be sunrunner pilots for the MFL PMC force. With that title comes its benefits of hire pay and benefits. Each of you will be giving 3 shares in the PMC force as well as additional shares in competitive pay per confirmed kill. This being said, because of the cost of feilding these mechs measures are being made. You will be tasked with keeping your mech repaired maintained and armed, using your shares you may purchase weapons armor and upgrades as well as being able to influence new R&D for said sunrunners so that you may upgrade it as you see fit if their are any questions I will answer them now if not we will proceed to quartermaster Jester for your kit and standard rifle for when your not in your mech. Afterwords we will be making our way to frigate Hades, so that you all can receive some combat practice using the holo pods.”
A fairly tall, fair skinned and red haired man with a mechanical arm relaxes after being told to be at ease speaks up after hearing what his new boss says. “So it’s just like back at home ‘cept instead of fixin’ and maintain’ cars, it’s mechs. Sounds simple ‘nough. Though I gotta be askin’ is there anyway we could fix me a pistol or small side arm over a rifle? Just more suitin’ for me, sir.”
The platoon lead looked to the tall cyborg. “I'm sure we can get you a plasma pistol or two if that suits you better, the neldans already on the planet have a handful of weapons they haded us including a heavy looking gun blade thing, one hell of a assault rifle and a couple crates of plasma rifles, so pick your poison though personally id go for the battle rifles unless you want to deal with the massive kick their weapons give off as subtlety doesnt seem to be in their vocabulary.”
“What do we have in the way of shields?” asked a tall, broad man whose features might have once been handsome, but were now overshadowed by a collection of scuffs, scars, and the type of visible weariness that belonged to someone who had spent an abundance of time in the field. “I don’t know how nimble these things are, but I’d feel better with something to eat a few shots.”
The maintenance and the like didn’t bother him too much. He’d worked on his fair share of mechanical guts and gear over the years. These Sunrunners would be something new to learn, but he didn’t expect to mess it up too badly.
The platoon leader would look black at the whispey shadow of his before moving his attention to Garr.
“The Sunrunner is equipped with a forearm based shield made up of the same structure and plating as your mecha, so its able to eat a few hits before you do. That being said, you can also detach it should it become useless in doing so you can store the axe and granade on your mechas waist and back.”
Garr nodded thoughtfully and gave a gruff sound of assent. It wasn’t nearly as big as he was hoping - but it would do for now. If he could “buy” upgrades for his new unit, that would be on his list. The tank operator wasn’t thrilled to be so much taller
Watching from afar, the Major sent to keep an eye on these mercs would just see them be introduced to the items they were going to be using. Since the whole purpose of having a member of the Defense Department observe the PMC was purely to ensure that they wouldn’t simply disobey the Republic that and to observe their actions, needing to be close to them was not on the job list.
Yulia would just fiddle around with a pen. A quarter arachnid sykian, unlike her more taur like relatives, her arachnid features were more so 4 “arachnid legs” behind her back. This is aside from her ability to make webs as well through various parts of her body. She wore a nice Federal Army uniform and a patched on that uniform showed her affiliation to one of the more elite mechanized corps yet were not fully deployed as they weren’t considered special forces.
For her, making sure these mercs do their job is what matters to her. Nothing more nothing less. If something goes bump in their operations, it’s her job to rectify it if it hurts the interests of the greater nation as a whole. Wether she cares if they die or not…well that depends if she somehow builds any connections to these people.
An aid of hers would soon approach handing her some tea which she would drink as she looked on the mercs. From what she heard, these men are going to have one hell of a time.
“Got an actual supply to get those parts from? Livin the dream then are we?” Asked a rather jovial sounding voice. That voice belonging to a Genemod horse, leaning casually against a pile of stacked crates. He shook his long head slightly, tossing his black forelock of a mane to one side, black muzzle split in a grin. His head (as most of his coat) was an almost dark blue color, and the tip of his left ear was missing. “Be nice to not have to tear off any ol scrap that you can find to keep running for once.”
The shadow beside him would begin taking a humanism form outside of the yellow eyes. Clasping his hand on its shoulder. “My other half will escort you lot to the armorer to get your kit then escort you to the hades to use the training pods.” releasing its shoulder he moved to walk in the direction of the of the major. Only to turn around briefly and point a acusitive finger and the humanoid form of the shadow. “Dont fuck this up.” it holding up its hands or claws it nodded.
He turned and continued to walk twords the major while the shadow looks twords the new pilots.
“Thisss waay Recrtuitsss.” it hissed out leading them to the armorer. At the armorer station sat a person wearing an oiled leather tan trenchcoat. Black gasmask with lenses giving of a soft blue glow. “Greetings pilots, here is your Kit.” taking a large but old looking backpack. He set it down in front of them. “Inside is a weekly supply of MRE’s, a week emergency MRE, A IFAK kit, one Darkstar hybrid plasma pistol, Four batteries and Four mags for it, hip holster. Two sets of Mech FL uniform, a pair of boots. Two sets of socks, and one multi roll PDA where you will be getting paid from, and receive mission orders from. To the left of me here are several weapon racks each with your choice of a battle rifle, a cased plasma rifle or supplied via the Neldans the Neldan battle rifle chambered in explosive tip .300 blackout. Simply grab your pack, take a manual and place your hand on the keypad below the gun you wish to have assigned to you via dna sample.”
Dallas grabs his pack and takes out the hip holster to attach it to his side before putting the plasma pistol firmly into it. He puts his pack over one shoulder before smiling at the armorer and speaking up “I don’t reckon you got any more cqc type weapons, like a plasma knife or battle knife or somethin’ along those lines? I ain’t really one for shootin’ with a rifle, this pistol is perfect n all jus wish I had a bowie knife or the likes for when things get real rough and dirty.”
Aaron watched as the man who introduced himself as thier commanding officer appeared to literally split from his shadow, which then proceeded to form into some kind of shadow being itself. He cocked his head, as the others started nonchalantly following their non shadowed leader. “Anyone want to talk about that? No? Alright then” he shrugged, pushing off the stacked crates, his hooves echoing slightly off the hard packed ground.
Hefting his pack, the genemod pulled the holstered pistol out, checking the action with a familiarity that spoke of prior experience before attaching the combo to his belt, then doing the same with his selected battle rifle.
His ears turned toward the sound of another voice addressing the armorer, glancing over, he saw it was the man with the prosthetic arm, asking again for some kind of blade.
Grinning, he pulled a sheathed ka-bar like knife out of the cargo pocket of his fatigues, tapping the man on the shoulder with the hilt.
“Here mate, no need tae worry about getting one from supply. Always carry a blade, am I right?”
The shadowy version of their Commanding officer would begin escorting them to the ship to show them their quarters. “For the record you will be known assss Fireteam one, your barrack matessss are fireteam 2 and you both make up echo ssssquad.” the shadow hissed out to them, directing them into the ships ramp and down one of the many corridors to their Berrics room.
As the doors hissed open they would be able to meet the rest of the squad. Near the back wall of the room squatted a shirtless man with various tools at his feet tinkering with a rather large not standard issue firearm. To the right hand of the room a short red headed girl was meticulous organizing her stockpile of medical equipment, having to push up her glasses ever few moments. Next to her however is a man, if you can call him that. Listened to her ramble on and on while he/it was cleaning their sniper rifle. He wore an olive green uniform with a biosuit underneath it. Cybernetics in the form of eyes, voicebox and various pneumatic systems allowed the 3d printed bones laced with metal to operate.
As he shows up all but the hand selected mech pilots leave to get onto the transports.
Turning to the selected mech pilots he addresses them. “At ease, as you know you have been selected for your skills to be sunrunner pilots for the MFL PMC force. With that title comes its benefits of hire pay and benefits. Each of you will be giving 3 shares in the PMC force as well as additional shares in competitive pay per confirmed kill. This being said, because of the cost of feilding these mechs measures are being made. You will be tasked with keeping your mech repaired maintained and armed, using your shares you may purchase weapons armor and upgrades as well as being able to influence new R&D for said sunrunners so that you may upgrade it as you see fit if their are any questions I will answer them now if not we will proceed to quartermaster Jester for your kit and standard rifle for when your not in your mech. Afterwords we will be making our way to frigate Hades, so that you all can receive some combat practice using the holo pods.”
A fairly tall, fair skinned and red haired man with a mechanical arm relaxes after being told to be at ease speaks up after hearing what his new boss says. “So it’s just like back at home ‘cept instead of fixin’ and maintain’ cars, it’s mechs. Sounds simple ‘nough. Though I gotta be askin’ is there anyway we could fix me a pistol or small side arm over a rifle? Just more suitin’ for me, sir.”
The platoon lead looked to the tall cyborg. “I'm sure we can get you a plasma pistol or two if that suits you better, the neldans already on the planet have a handful of weapons they haded us including a heavy looking gun blade thing, one hell of a assault rifle and a couple crates of plasma rifles, so pick your poison though personally id go for the battle rifles unless you want to deal with the massive kick their weapons give off as subtlety doesnt seem to be in their vocabulary.”
“What do we have in the way of shields?” asked a tall, broad man whose features might have once been handsome, but were now overshadowed by a collection of scuffs, scars, and the type of visible weariness that belonged to someone who had spent an abundance of time in the field. “I don’t know how nimble these things are, but I’d feel better with something to eat a few shots.”
The maintenance and the like didn’t bother him too much. He’d worked on his fair share of mechanical guts and gear over the years. These Sunrunners would be something new to learn, but he didn’t expect to mess it up too badly.
The platoon leader would look black at the whispey shadow of his before moving his attention to Garr.
“The Sunrunner is equipped with a forearm based shield made up of the same structure and plating as your mecha, so its able to eat a few hits before you do. That being said, you can also detach it should it become useless in doing so you can store the axe and granade on your mechas waist and back.”
Garr nodded thoughtfully and gave a gruff sound of assent. It wasn’t nearly as big as he was hoping - but it would do for now. If he could “buy” upgrades for his new unit, that would be on his list. The tank operator wasn’t thrilled to be so much taller
Watching from afar, the Major sent to keep an eye on these mercs would just see them be introduced to the items they were going to be using. Since the whole purpose of having a member of the Defense Department observe the PMC was purely to ensure that they wouldn’t simply disobey the Republic that and to observe their actions, needing to be close to them was not on the job list.
Yulia would just fiddle around with a pen. A quarter arachnid sykian, unlike her more taur like relatives, her arachnid features were more so 4 “arachnid legs” behind her back. This is aside from her ability to make webs as well through various parts of her body. She wore a nice Federal Army uniform and a patched on that uniform showed her affiliation to one of the more elite mechanized corps yet were not fully deployed as they weren’t considered special forces.
For her, making sure these mercs do their job is what matters to her. Nothing more nothing less. If something goes bump in their operations, it’s her job to rectify it if it hurts the interests of the greater nation as a whole. Wether she cares if they die or not…well that depends if she somehow builds any connections to these people.
An aid of hers would soon approach handing her some tea which she would drink as she looked on the mercs. From what she heard, these men are going to have one hell of a time.
“Got an actual supply to get those parts from? Livin the dream then are we?” Asked a rather jovial sounding voice. That voice belonging to a Genemod horse, leaning casually against a pile of stacked crates. He shook his long head slightly, tossing his black forelock of a mane to one side, black muzzle split in a grin. His head (as most of his coat) was an almost dark blue color, and the tip of his left ear was missing. “Be nice to not have to tear off any ol scrap that you can find to keep running for once.”
The shadow beside him would begin taking a humanism form outside of the yellow eyes. Clasping his hand on its shoulder. “My other half will escort you lot to the armorer to get your kit then escort you to the hades to use the training pods.” releasing its shoulder he moved to walk in the direction of the of the major. Only to turn around briefly and point a acusitive finger and the humanoid form of the shadow. “Dont fuck this up.” it holding up its hands or claws it nodded.
He turned and continued to walk twords the major while the shadow looks twords the new pilots.
“Thisss waay Recrtuitsss.” it hissed out leading them to the armorer. At the armorer station sat a person wearing an oiled leather tan trenchcoat. Black gasmask with lenses giving of a soft blue glow. “Greetings pilots, here is your Kit.” taking a large but old looking backpack. He set it down in front of them. “Inside is a weekly supply of MRE’s, a week emergency MRE, A IFAK kit, one Darkstar hybrid plasma pistol, Four batteries and Four mags for it, hip holster. Two sets of Mech FL uniform, a pair of boots. Two sets of socks, and one multi roll PDA where you will be getting paid from, and receive mission orders from. To the left of me here are several weapon racks each with your choice of a battle rifle, a cased plasma rifle or supplied via the Neldans the Neldan battle rifle chambered in explosive tip .300 blackout. Simply grab your pack, take a manual and place your hand on the keypad below the gun you wish to have assigned to you via dna sample.”
Dallas grabs his pack and takes out the hip holster to attach it to his side before putting the plasma pistol firmly into it. He puts his pack over one shoulder before smiling at the armorer and speaking up “I don’t reckon you got any more cqc type weapons, like a plasma knife or battle knife or somethin’ along those lines? I ain’t really one for shootin’ with a rifle, this pistol is perfect n all jus wish I had a bowie knife or the likes for when things get real rough and dirty.”
Aaron watched as the man who introduced himself as thier commanding officer appeared to literally split from his shadow, which then proceeded to form into some kind of shadow being itself. He cocked his head, as the others started nonchalantly following their non shadowed leader. “Anyone want to talk about that? No? Alright then” he shrugged, pushing off the stacked crates, his hooves echoing slightly off the hard packed ground.
Hefting his pack, the genemod pulled the holstered pistol out, checking the action with a familiarity that spoke of prior experience before attaching the combo to his belt, then doing the same with his selected battle rifle.
His ears turned toward the sound of another voice addressing the armorer, glancing over, he saw it was the man with the prosthetic arm, asking again for some kind of blade.
Grinning, he pulled a sheathed ka-bar like knife out of the cargo pocket of his fatigues, tapping the man on the shoulder with the hilt.
“Here mate, no need tae worry about getting one from supply. Always carry a blade, am I right?”
The shadowy version of their Commanding officer would begin escorting them to the ship to show them their quarters. “For the record you will be known assss Fireteam one, your barrack matessss are fireteam 2 and you both make up echo ssssquad.” the shadow hissed out to them, directing them into the ships ramp and down one of the many corridors to their Berrics room.
As the doors hissed open they would be able to meet the rest of the squad. Near the back wall of the room squatted a shirtless man with various tools at his feet tinkering with a rather large not standard issue firearm. To the right hand of the room a short red headed girl was meticulous organizing her stockpile of medical equipment, having to push up her glasses ever few moments. Next to her however is a man, if you can call him that. Listened to her ramble on and on while he/it was cleaning their sniper rifle. He wore an olive green uniform with a biosuit underneath it. Cybernetics in the form of eyes, voicebox and various pneumatic systems allowed the 3d printed bones laced with metal to operate.