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[MacabreDerek]

The large man crept into the room through the door, remaining silent in respect the briefing. From what he could hear, Jean wasn't telling the whole story, but enough to keep his unit from asking important questions and gumming up the works. When Jean's attention for a brief second was brought to this intruder among their ranks, the large man's eyes went cross. Images of Jean laying dead with his throat cut so deep it was only his spine holding the lump of flesh he called a head danced around in his head, and he couldn't help but smile. That sick, grim, horrifying smile. He was reminded of an old candy dispenser he heard of from ancient Terra called Pez, and found it amusing to draw the comparison.

There were members from the old unit in the room, some faces he never knew, and some names he knew from reputation. It was definitely a crew filled with the kind of arrogance one should expect from a group brought together by Jean.

He sat down, and listened intently on the briefing. His mind was lost in the worst case scenario. If it wasn't for the job stipulations, this contract would be boring, but the perks of the assignment caught his interest. He remembered when 'She' approached him. It was hard not to kill her on the spot with that demener that reminded him so much of this group's leading man that caused a pain in his head. Once her offer on the table though, that razor focus he maintained came to light, and he couldn't help but laugh the whole way through the metting.

Jean suddenly mentioned his name... Barret. It was cute how he made the introductions. It was only then did Barret realize he was playing with the butterfly knife in hand. With a quick clasp, the handle closed shut with the blade inside, and it slid back into the holster at his belt. He remained quiet. There was no reason to explain to the others he was under a different set or orders. Jean worked with Barret before, they both knew each other well enough to know how it would play out, a paint by numbers conversation that would inevitably lead to a chance for Barret to exercise his talents and creativity.

Each man and woman in the room were skilled killers, that was to be sure. Barret had to keep his profile a little lower than he would enjoy, but the contract came first.

He stood up slowly, and looked over the individuals in the room, his eyes going dead. "To make it absolutely clear, I am following orders just like the lot of you. Your commanding officer...." Barret almost choked on those words. "... will always remain as the absolute authority. However, I am here to make sure you all do the job at hand. If there is a problem, I better be one of the first to know about it to get it straightened up, because any amount of screwing around is going to result in alot more than a pay-cut."

Barret looked over the gathering, and for a moment all he could see was their bodies gutted, burned, chewed and ground up. They were all walking corpses, meat to be fed into the grinder. He wondered if he would be the one sparing them that future vision, or causing it.

After a moment, he turned to the door. That twisted grin came to mind as he pictured Jean, with the corners of his mouth cut, on the ground and Barret would kick and beat him, with ever scream, with every yelp, the corners of his mouth tearing more and more until his jaw hung loose unable to close, the muscle and tendons torn and severed. The Glasgow Smile.

[ChaosGrinder]

Spitfire stopped in her tracks and turned around. She eyeballed the brute of a man suspiciously.

" Not necessarily nice to meet you. " She hissed giving him a death stare. She knew such people. Traitors who wouldn´t even conceal that they will betray you. She despised such people.

" We shall see buddy. Watch. Your. Balls. "

[Thom Frankfurt]

Nik as habit was early to the briefing. Having enjoyed a nice meal of biscuts and gravy with curmbled bacon atop, which he washed down with coffee on at his hosts expense. Nikoli was in a fantasic mood. Well that was until Barret showed up. As the meeting unfolded, he took a backseat to his lancemates as they asked questions and offered suggestions. And deliberatly positioned his chair so he was able to keep an eye on both the meeting and the merc fiddling with the butterfly knife. When Jean introduced the man he finally put the butterfly away, then stood up to address the group of misfits.

"To make it absolutely clear, I am following orders just like the lot of you. Your commanding officer...." Barret paused. "... will always remain as the absolute authority. However, I am here to make sure you all do the job at hand. If there is a problem, I better be one of the first to know about it to get it straightened up, because any amount of screwing around is going to result in alot more than a pay-cut."

ChaosGrinder, on 07 August 2012 - 03:08 AM, said:

Spitfire stopped in her tracks and turned around. She eyeballed the brute of a man suspiciously.

" Not necessarily nice to meet you. " She hissed giving him a death stare. She knew such people. Traitors who wouldn´t even conceal that they will betray you. She despised such people.

"We shall see buddy. Watch. Your. Balls. "

Nikoli coughed into his coffee as the woman warrior spoke those words. He then wondered if they would be her last words.

Bad move, little girl.

Nikoli stood suddenly drawing attention from Barret, no doubt saving Spitfire from a sound thrashing for the time being at the very least. (and possibly invoking Barrets wrath himself.)

"Ladies and gentlemen," He snickered as he spoke that. "let's not distract ourselves with threats, idle or not. Soon, so painfully soon, we're going to be fighting, quite possibly for our lives against some of the Dragon's best units. We will need to be on our 'A' game if we're going to be successful, and even then..." His voice trailed off at the unspoken implications.

"I pride myself on being a professional, let's all try to act like professionals. Atleast for the duration of this Op anyways." He eyeballed Chris as he spoke that. He then clapped, a loud sharp sound which started several of the mercs.

"Now I do have some suggestions and questions. Are there going to be any maps provided? I would like it if we could find a place where Brain....er Dirk could hit two or hopefully all three objectives with his Artillary piece. Also with the crazy dust storms here, we could creep up nice and close like to the Comm relay, my chameleon has a counter measure package so I can jamm whatever signals they try to send out as we demolish the place.... Speaking of, are we to just destory the microwave dish, the generator, or the whole damned building?"

-He paused quirking a brow.-

"Well?"

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 08 August 2012 - 03:57 PM.

[RogueSpear]

Sergeant Major Harker Nale weighed his hand. His next move would need to be considered carefully. Around him, his men of the Poor Bloody Infantry continued their futile search through the huge warehouse. Armoured in patchwork uniforms, a mix of elite house unit gear and simple metal plates nailed to a jacket (Usually with some spikes driven through them) clothed the men. Their weapons were slung across their backs - equally hodgepodge but far better maintained. Autorifles, lasers, machine guns and one shot SRMs, the unit even sported an antique Star League pulse rifle. And not one man didn't have at least two weapons for melee on them.
Nevertheless, he was proud of his band of cutthroats. They'd signed on with the Tombstone Barbershop Quartet near the beginning, and soon earned their place. They'd had no unit name, and had come to take on the Mechwarrior's slur as their own.
Across from him, Lieutenant Dave Strider of the company's VTOLs watched him as he thought. Strider's men were rummaging through their VTOLs, looking for the same thing his infantry were.
They were hard men, harsh and uncompromising. When the Quartet talked about getting down to 'Hard Nails and Brass Tacks', it was no mere cliché - it was the monikers they had given the two men.
Harker was aware of the bead of sweat that dripped slowly down one temple as he said, slowly and deliberately, coming to his decision:
"Got any twos?"
"Nope. Go fish."
"F*ck." Harker took another card from the pile resignedly.
"So, you think we'll find Bradbury's stash of toys this time?"
"Think they'll ask us for our opinions before they take the mission?"
Strider laughed. "No for two then. Well nothing for it." He raised the shot glass of local rotgut and clinked with Harker.
The two men swallowed their shots, winced, and spat.
"Terrible stuff."
"We should quit."
"Absolutely."
Harker poured another two shots.
"So, got any sixes?"
He sighed as he passed over the card. It was going to be a long day.

[guardian wolf]

The alarm woke Chris out of his stupor, apparently Bubba had been a good friend, and hauled him from the last bar, to their quarters. It was an out of the way garage, but Chris overheard the location of another garage with an Atlas nearby so he figured he would meet up with it, or whomever else he might be assigned to. He scratched his head, and chuckled to himself.

"So, we have elite enemies we are being paid to fight, rough neck enemies that I have to keep an eye on, you missing anything?" he said to the ceiling.

It did not reply, and Chris shrugged, either he would find out, or not, but the way he saw it, he was in a world of ****, and the only reason he was going with it, was for the payday. Eight figures, not to mention whatever Bubba could salvage. If he caught a mech intact, Bubba could bring it back, but he had to do it first. His thoughts went to the future, maybe he could start his own merc company. Dezene's Degenerates. he laughed at that as he got dressed. Combat dress was normal, he kept it under his jacket, and the rest of his, "effects". He walked out of the hangar, and approached the Cold Shoulder, and caught sight of Bubba waiting for him.

"They all inside?" He asked softly.

"Yeah, and there's more,"

"More what?"

"I am going to let you see this one," Bubba shrugged.

That was not good, last thing he needed was another wild card, with things already going to be close. He walked in and listened in on the plan, while stomaching down a steak, and two eggs. He chased it down with a beer, when suddenly, he heard a name he thought he'd never hear since his days back with the Raiders, on the last clean merc job he had gotten them to do. Barrett Sender, that son of a ***** was a damn good pilot, though one of the most sadistic madmen he has ever seen, but he respected him. Chris wondered if Barrett still recognized him, as Barrett certainly had not changed, but, Chris had certainly gotten a bit more rough around the edges.

"Been a long time since I've seen you Barrett," he spoke coldly.

[Xinaoen]

The Outlaw Kazzen, on 06 August 2012 - 04:16 PM, said:

"So who is on what fire team? I'd like an idea of who i'll be riding besides when we go."

"To clarify: Nik will be leading Alpha, which will consist of himself, miss Mueller, mr. Rudbeck, mr. Keed, and miss Harker. Barret, Chris, and Kazzen will be with me on Bravo; we've got a friend meeting us on-site, as well. Per Mister Reznov's suggestion, Dirk will be dropping artillery from the middle. We'll all meet up at the airfield once the secondary objectives have been completed."

Rasengetsu, on 06 August 2012 - 07:51 PM, said:

"So basically, Team Alpha, of which I'm part of, gets to blow up a comm station and a Lance of 'Mechs? Sweet! Got any info on the types there'll be?"

"I'm afraid not," Jean admitted. "It'll be a lance from the garrison, but who gets picked for guard duty depends on who drew the short straw today. The good news is that the locals' 'Mechs are poorly maintained, and they won't be expecting you. I wouldn't expect too much opposition."

Sparks Murphey, on 06 August 2012 - 08:02 PM, said:

Sierra nodded. “And who they work for? I mean, New Tombstone is a FRR colony, right?
...
She considered for a moment. “Heck...can we slap some DCMS sigs on our ‘Mechs real quick?”

"It's a thought, but I'd honestly rather not complicate things. The last thing we need is some yokel getting confused and taking a shot at the transport."

Thom Frankfurt, on 07 August 2012 - 07:57 PM, said:

"Now I do have some suggestions and questions. Are there going to be any maps provided? I would like it if we could find a place where Brain....er Dirk could hit two or hopefully all three objectives with his Artillary piece. Also with the crazy dust storms here, we could creep up nice and close like to the Comm relay, my chameleon has a counter measure package so I can jamm whatever signals they try to send out as we demolish the place.... Speaking of, are we to just destory the microwave dish, the generator, or the whole damned building?"

"Roger on the maps," Jean said. "I have a spot picked out for Dirk; I'd like to have him fire on the microwave dish as the cue to start the attack. If that gun of his hits as hard as I've been led to believe, he can probably take it out with a single shot; from there, Alpha just has to mop up. Take out the generator, any targets of opportunity, and anyone who gets in your way. Destroy and demoralize, but don't obsess over blowing up everything that stands; speed is key here. Same rule goes for Bravo."

[Vodkavaiator]

Xinaoen, on 08 August 2012 - 09:35 AM, said:

"If that gun of his hits as hard as I've been led to believe, he can probably take it out with a single shot."

For the first time since the start of the briefing Rudbeck removed his right hand from its position cradling his throbbing head and looked up at other mercenaries. The other hand rested on a half empty bottle of whiskey, from which the former pirate took a large swig before bursting into a wide grin. Rasalhague whiskey was not as bad as he would first have believed, if anything it was quite good.

Never a great believer in unnecessarily serious mission briefings he turned to look mischievously at the rest of the Quartet. "My friends, I do believe I am starting to like this quaint village. Good whiskey, eatable food and one or two pretty women. A shame we have to move so soon, I fear I am going to have to cancel that dinner date. I wouldn't want any displeased Dracs ruining a lovely evening. Ah well, such is life." Rudbeck reflected with a tinge of sorrow.

After taking another pull of spirits he turned to address their new commanding officer, Jean,"I shouldn't worry about Dirk's gun if I were you, it punches harder than the damn fist of an Atlas...blessed by the god Joe Frazer himself, if I recall correctly. Provided the pilot doesn't begin drawing structural diagrams during the operation." He added just loud enough for Dirk to hear.

"Excuse me for a moment." Rudbeck muttered before he rose unsteadily to his feet and stumbled off in the direction of the kitchen. He returned in a worse state than he had left in, his jacket appeared to be inside out, the other clothing he wore was ruffled, slightly out of place and he appeared to have some curious red marks on his cheek. However, if anything Rudbeck appeared to be smiling even more broadly than before. With a great exercise of willpower he eventually managed to find his way to his former place at the table and sat down. He nodded briefly at Sierra before taking a bite out of the steak and downing yet another pull of whiskey.

"Forgive me! Where are my manners! Would anyone else care for a drink?" He suddenly exclaimed, waving the bottle of Rasalhague whiskey in the air. "Right then, to return to the subject at hand. A wonderful plan, inspiring really, you have me convinced. Unfortunately, I fear I do have a question or two of my own. Heaven forbid but should anything happen to the two of you, our commanding officers as it were, how will we make contact with your contact so to speak?"

Without waiting for an answer he turned slightly towards Nikoli, "Tovarishch have you seen my hat, I could have sworn I was wearing it before I left to procure some vittles?

Edited by Vodkavaiator, 08 August 2012 - 11:27 AM.

[ChaosGrinder]

Spitfire snorted as Rudbeck waved his whiskey. " Drunk on the job. Better take a bucket with you buddy ", she laughed.

" Aye Mister Owen... Noone to watch for ourartys A** ? God knows how many guys are waiting out there and what do we do if he´s spotted ? "

Without waiting for an answer she grabbed a napkin and started cleaning her Helmet window.

[Thom Frankfurt]

ChaosGrinder, on 08 August 2012 - 12:54 PM, said:

Spitfire snorted as Rudbeck waved his whiskey. " Drunk on the job. Better take a bucket with you buddy ", she laughed.

" Aye Mister Owen... Noone to watch for ourartys A** ? God knows how many guys are waiting out there and what do we do if he´s spotted?"

Without waiting for an answer she grabbed a napkin and started cleaning her Helmet window.

Nikoli was pleased that Ms. Spitfire offered that suggestion, he nodded approvingly.

"Actually I was thinking about having you in your Atlas, and the other guy babysitting Dirk. Your mechs are slow." He offered then shrugged at their hurtful expressions. "Sierra, Redbeck and myself," he snatched the bottle of booze away from Red as he began waving it around again. "are experts when it comes to hit and run ****** and grabs. We'll be long gone by the time the locals err, badguys figure out what's going on." He then shrugged again.

[ChaosGrinder]

" I ain´t goin´ to babysit, but i could have an eye on him. Shouldn´t be too much of a problem. But i want a bit of action too buddy. " Sle snickered. " Nay, i guess that other dude will do for our arty. If there´s trouble around they can still call for help. "

She didn´t care what she had to do, all she wanted was action. She loved to smash things, to destroy, to pillage. It was her life essence, it made her happy.

" Aaaaanyway, i´ll do what you want me to. Mostly... " she said with a dirty smirk.

[Thom Frankfurt]

"Little girl, let's put it this way. Speed is going to be essential for this OP, your immortal assault mech does what? 54.6 KPH max? My Chameleon moves faster...moonwalking."

He paused. He wouldn't deny her combat, though. He would just have to word things in her liking.

"If the opfor give chase we can lead them right to you. I'm thinking it this way, you can get a good start on phase two, otherwise you may show up late just in time to miss all the action, or find up all dancing a hempen jigg."

[RogueSpear]

Dirk raised his fork again, this time with a bit of potato scone attached.
"Umm, I hope this wasn't discussed earlier and I was uh..." He tried to remember the diplomatic term Remi had taught him for describing his mental wanderings. "Emm...'temporarily located in elsewhere in a mental capacity'." Yeah, something like that. But with bells on. "What mechs will be on each team? I heard the names, but I only know the mechs of my lancemates and Ms. Harker."
The scone dropped unnoticed onto his neighbor's plate, to his neighbor's disgust [[Feel free to decide yourselves who's sitting to Dirk's immediate right]].
"Oh, and what mechs make up the ground force? I understand we won't know who's on patrol, but if we know what might show up, we won't be all 'Waily waily, I didn't know they'd be good up close' or whatever. Same with the elite unit really I suppose."
A lightbulb went off in his head. They had full salvage rights, right? If the elite unit was using some of the prototype SSRMs...Sierra would go gaga for those. His diatribe faded out as he began staring at her and swiftly zoned out, already scribbling potential schematics for an SSRM6, so that he might know what to expect when he got his hands on some.

[guardian wolf]

Chris was a little repulsed by the scone dropping in his plate, and had been listening in on the conversations up to this point. Hopefully he could get a conversation started and maybe make at least one friend, or one less enemy. Barrett was good but he was as likely to kill you as he was to help you. He tapped the guy's shoulder and spoke in a conversation like tone.

"Hey uh buddy... you dropped something. Anyway what you piloting again? I seem to remember some TAG gear on my Shadow Hawk,"

[RogueSpear]

"Hmmm? Oh thank you." Dirk swiftly speared the bit of scone off the other merc's plate. "I'm in the Helepolis for arty support." He frowned. "You must pay even less attention than me."

[guardian wolf]

"Well going by that" he stops to speak a little louder just within earshot of Bubba who is a bit farther away watching for trouble.

"HEY, Bubba, we still got that painter gear from the 'store'?"

"Far as I reckon,"

Chris turned back to his acqauintence.

"Well how about I pull a little trick for that dropship of ours. See back in the day I rolled with a small merc corps like your own. And anyway we came across some TAG gear, and using that we could relay coordinates of a location. Three dimensional coordinates, and I am surely with that arty piece of yours you could put a round right where those engines will be, savy? If anything I'll do the preadjustin so all you have to do is adjust for wind, and gravity,"

[Thom Frankfurt]

Nikoli nodded approvingly as just slightly less disliked Chris offered up some aquisition gear.

"We have some, though, not many NARC capable missiles on board our crate. I suppose we can offer up some in the name of unity." Nik sneered as he spoke, those missiles weren't cheap, but he sure could buy a whole buttload of them for 47 million...

[guardian wolf]

Chris smiled as one of the others caught on.

"Well, I wasn't going to ask if you had those, but, sure, you can bring those too. But what I am saying is, is that the old targeting computer, still gets TAG sigs from the laser. Then all I have to do is relay the coordinates to our friend here with the big guns, and then rock some peoples worlds,"

Chris tried to think back to think if they had salvaged any munitions on their last run. They certainly had none in the garage. Still, he was now happy that he didn't take the money when somebody had offered 3,000 c-bills for that TAG laser. He would get that attached, and checked as soon as possible. Then he got to thinking, did these guys have a contingency plan if the cards went south? As in, what to do with the SSRMs, he might have to call his old friends in the Raiders, see if they were still into smuggling. He would have to pull alot of tricks out of his sleeve if the cards went south. He would just have to keep that Ace in the Hole for last though, as Bubba's old Industrial Mech, the one he uses to load the salvage track, had a lot of empty space in it. A lot of empty space.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Nikoli nodded.

"Yeah."

[guardian wolf]

Chris then spoke to their employer.

"We get full salvage on anything we can get our hands on right? And also, if the cards do go south, as in the blockade arrives faster than expected, do we get bonus pay for assisting the exfil of these packages?"

He hoped it did not get that far, as smuggling as it was, was a very dangerous businness. His eyes wandered back over to Barrett. Chris was sure that he would not like help with that job, but, he wasn't sure if he could do it without him. After a slight moment's rest he focused back on the employer, it was about to be showtime.

[Xinaoen]

guardian wolf, on 11 August 2012 - 03:21 PM, said:

"We get full salvage on anything we can get our hands on right? And also, if the cards do go south, as in the blockade arrives faster than expected, do we get bonus pay for assisting the exfil of these packages?"

"That's correct. The transport and its contents go to our buyer; anything else is ours."

Jean paused momentarily to consider the second point.

"It's possible that we could get a bonus for assisting with the extraction of the goods; that'd be up to the buyer, though, and it'd have to be negotiated on-site. Frankly, I don't know how much help we'd be. Best case scenario, we could distract the Dracs long enough for our buyer to slip through the blockade. That's not a mission that we'd be likely to survive. I vote that we don't let it come to that."

Jean cracked a small smile, despite himself. It was always a comfort when one's associates asked the right questions, and this group certainly didn't disappoint. At the same time, he could sense a few members of the group growing impatient - Barret among them, quite dangerously. They'd only been allies for a brief time, but Jean had gotten a glimpse or two of the kinds of things that Barret did when he was bored. Jean promptly stood.

"Any further questions can be answered en route, I think," Jean declared. "What say we mount up?"