Mechwarrior Introduction Post

The prestigious Dome of Light is the centrepiece of cultural fun, games and activities in Cynosure.
Post Reply
User avatar
Xah
Councillor
Councillor
Posts: 644
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 11:04 pm
NS Nation (Prefix): The Morthanveld Polity of
Client Tech Level: A2
Client Leader: Ancient One
Client Councillor: Speaker
Client Species: Morthanveld
Location: --
Contact:

Mechwarrior Introduction Post

Post by Xah » Thu Apr 04, 2019 2:44 pm

Coordinates: -23.01 : 38.727
World name: Lyons
Affiliation: Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Commonwealth)
Population: 957,000,000
City: Clovis' Point


"Him there."

"Him? Are you sure? He looks a bit... worse for wear."

"Trust me. He's who we're looking for. He'll look better once we sober him up."

"I think that's more than just alcohol."

"All part of the charm."

The voices pierced the fog clouding Duch's brain and despite it, his trained mind recognised that there were people talking about him. He struggled with his eyelids but managed to look up, his vision slowly focusing. Standing before him were two figures; a tall man and a much shorter woman, both dressed in clothing that did not suit the dive bar that he’d chosen for this night’s attempt to quieten the voices. He blinked a couple of times, staring at them, whilst his brain attempted to organise his chemical-fuddled thoughts into something coherent.

“Hauptmann-Kommandant Duch?” the man asked, leaning forwards. “We would like to speak to you.”

“Not haptman anymore. Quit,” Duch replied, slurring his words. His eyes narrowed as thoughts popped into his mind. “Where’s that son-of-a-can Aske? H’supposed to keep p’ple ‘way.”

“It was Aske who pointed you out,” the man said. “He’s a good man to you, I think he deserves better. Considering.”

The woman looked at the man. “Can’t you give him anything? You know? To sober him up?”

There was a pause as the man gave Duch a considered look. “Maybe.” He said. Straightening up, he looked behind him and spoke to someone else. “Think you can carry him out of here? I’d rather discuss this elsewhere.”

The man and the woman stepped aside and a familiar figure moved forwards, reaching out to pull Duch up, supporting him. “Aske. I oughta fire your ass for this,” he mumbled.

“You know you cannot do that,” the man called Aske replied. “You are stuck with me for life, as much as either of us would prefer it differently.”

There were several minutes of movement, as Aske helped Duch out of the smoky room and out into the night. A few more steps and Duch realised he was being placed in a vehicle; a comfortable one from the feel of things. A moment or two more and the outside sounds muffled as doors closed. He felt a sharp sting in his arm and a sudden clarity of mind, as if the fog in his brain was burnt away by fire.

“By all that is sacred, what the hell did you do?” Duch asked gripping his upper arm.

“Gave you a shot of something that should keep you alert for a few hours,” the tall man replied from the car seat next to him. “You’ll crash after that, and feel shockingly bad in the morning, but it will do for now.”

Duch looked around. They were in a large ground car, a hover capable one from the looks of it, and large enough in the back to comfortably sit four people. As well as himself, and the tall man beside him, opposite was the woman from inside the bar and a guilty looking Aske, who seemed very out of place. He gave Duch a wry smile and a slight shrug in response to Duch’s raised eyebrow.

“Major Duch,” the woman began. She had Asian looks, and was dressed in expensive looking clothing. Unusually, she was wearing spectacles; an anachronism in today’s day and age for the wealthy.

“I said before,” Duch interrupted. “I’m not a major anymore. I resigned my commission, last week.”

“We know,” the woman said. “My name is Lang Xiulan, my associate here is Dr. Armand Rodin. We have a proposal for you.”

Three weeks later

Coordinates: -3.109 : -34.688
World name: Outreach
Affiliation: Federated Commonwealth (Federated Suns)
Population: 1,160,000
City: Harlech


Most planets had a hiring hall, sometimes just a building, often an entire complex, with hangers for 'mechs, repair bays, corporate offices, shops, brothels; everything a mercenary band would need to find work, get paid and spend money. The planet of Outreach was somewhat of an exception, in that the entire continent of Romulus was considered its hiring hall. Cities and towns existed purely for the purpose of attracting mercenary groups, either as a place to get job offers, or to spend the money from said jobs. The central hub, however, and where everyone arrived first, was Harlech. Not only was it the biggest, and the home of the Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission with whom all official mercs had to register, but it had the planet's DropPort; almost a hundred square kilometres of concrete, bristling with the mounds and points of hundreds of DropShips. Encircling this technological plaza were the buildings and offices of Harlech proper. Any mercenary company could hire space in this town, whether it be to house their equipment, or to present an 'official' front to clients and potential employees.

One of the buildings around the edge of the DropPort was a tall office block, shiny and reflective in Harlech's almost constant sunshine. A large video screen above the main entrance listed the current occupants; something that changed on almost a weekly basis as groups came and went from this most transient of cities. Standing in front of the building, looking up at the screen, were three figures; a tall man in an expensive looking suit, a short woman in an equally expensive looking qipao, and another man, dressed in dark red military fatigues. Standing nearby, was another man in similar fatigues.

"Well, there we are, on the list of occupants. It's all official," Duch said. "I'm still a little unbelieving that we've gotten this far. Seems like only yesterday you were dragging my ass out of that bar."

"We were looking for a candidate, and your name came highly recommended," Rodin said. "That and your man over there practically begged us."

Duch let out a breath. "Yes. I didn't deserve that. I cut one of his cords."

Lang raised her eyebrows. "I am impressed, Major Duch, I didn't think you would do that for him, given history."

Duch shrugged. "He's a man of honour. It was the least I could do, and the most he would accept."

"Regardless, we're here now. The advertisements have gone out and we have a number of prime candidates already for some of the open roles," Rodin said. "As their commanding officer, it is only right that you conduct the interviews and make the decisions, at least for the combat and support staff. I think Ms Lang and I can hire the administration staff." He handed over a noteputer. "There's a list on there, along with their interview times," he smiled. "Number four is particularly interesting. You don't get many landed nobles slumming it with mercenaries, I'll be interested to hear his backstory. Most MechWarrior candidates have their own 'mechs. Which will save us time, and money."

Nodding, the three figures, along with their more silent companion, entered the building.

The room for the interviews had been chosen for this specific purpose. It was largely empty aside from a desk and three chairs. Two chairs were on opposite sides of the desk, with the other chair against the far wall. The wall behind the desk was almost entirely window, giving a clear view of the DropPort and, dominating the foreground, was the aerodyne lines of a Leopard class dropship. Most of its external surfaces were standard DropShip light grey, but right in the centre at eye-level was the company name and logo; a large red letter C, with a smaller blue C within it.
Image
Sitting in the seat with his back to the window was Hpt. Kmd. Teodor Duch, once MechWarrior for the Federated Commonwealth, now leader of the mercenary company, the Crimson Company. He wasn't a tall man, barely 172 centimetres, but he had the build associated with a long military life, despite his appearance putting his age at only the early thirties. His brown hair is cut close to his scalp, covered by a black beret, and his face is clean shaved, with all the chiselled, European appearance of a typical Lyran noble. His white, short sleeve shirt had a black triangle on each sleeve, and revealed a string of tattoos running down his left arm,

Sitting in the other chair, and the person who opens the door when required, was another man. Only just taller than the other, and dressed in similar clothing, although without the black rank insignia on the sleeve. His jet black hair was shaven around the back and sides, but longer on top, pulled back into a thick braid at the back. A green tattoo of some kind of bird of prey had been inked onto the side of his scalp. His blue eyes were bright and wary, and when not escorting people into the room, he sat with an almost unnatural stillness.

Each applicant was required to bring with them whatever resume they felt appropriate, but as with most interviews, it was conduct within that tended to trump actual words.

► Show Spoiler
Last edited by Xah on Wed Apr 24, 2019 2:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Xah
Councillor
Councillor
Posts: 644
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 11:04 pm
NS Nation (Prefix): The Morthanveld Polity of
Client Tech Level: A2
Client Leader: Ancient One
Client Councillor: Speaker
Client Species: Morthanveld
Location: --
Contact:

Re: Mechwarrior Introduction Post

Post by Xah » Mon Apr 15, 2019 10:46 am

Lyra Oates glanced down at her noteputer and verified the correct room. Yep. Definitely the right place. She reached out and knocked on the door. Once. Twice. She was about to rap a third time when it was flung open to reveal the office within, and a man with jet black hair of a unique haircut, shaven around the sides but longer on top. A strange tattoo lay on the side of his head, Lyra able to pick up the details but failing to ascertain its meeting.

“I’m, er, here for the interview to join the Crimson Company?” she queried.

The man motioned her inside, and she stepped forward towards the desk where a second man sat, dressed in similar clothing. Brown hair cut short poking out of a black beret. Clean shaved face. Her eyes lingered on him for a second, and then glanced out the window, where she did a double take.

For behind him, the aerodyne appearance of a DropShip was seen, the logo of the Crimson Company clearly plastered on its front. She had seen many a DropShip before, and while they mostly all looked the same, it was the size of the ship that really differed between them. This one was rather small in comparison to the passenger crafts she had travelled on up until now. Her previous job had her being a junior technician in a large station crew, and this was likely to have a more personal feel to it. A good sized ship for a first assignment as a technician on the move, then.

It was only when she finally pulled her vision away that she realised she had been standing next to the chair she had been walking towards, seemingly on autopilot, both men looking at her quizzically. How long she had been standing there was unknown to her, the focus having been on the DropShip.

“Er, hi,” a meek smile appeared on her lips, and she offered her hand at the guy behind the desk. “Lyra Oates, applying for DropShip technician.”

The man stood and received the offered hand, giving it a firm shake. "Yes, Dr Oates, welcome. Please, have a seat. I am Major Duch, I'm the commanding officer of the Crimson Company, my companion over there is Aske, but he's just here to open the door, it's me who's conducting this interview."

He tapped on the screen of his own noteputer a couple of times, "Right, yes. It's not often we get New Avalon postgraduates on Outreach, and certainly not looking to apply for a small mercenary operation. What's your reason for joining us? Hiding from someone?" he said with a smile.

Lyra dropped into the seat and leaned back, a smirk expanding on her face. Sure, that was part of it. Her recent escapades had earned her a fair buck, but at the price of her face on the wanted list of a small crime syndicate.

“I would be lying if I said someone wasn’t after me,” she admitted. “And there is safety in numbers. But that’s not the reason I’m here.”

She motioned towards the window behind the Major. “That is why I’m here. I’ve been travelling about for the past three years, and while there has been the odd DropShip captain willing to let me patch up things, I miss it as a full time occupation. I’d rather not go back into corporate life, so a group like yourselves sounds like just the thing.”

"Pay will be a fixed share of the profits, distributed between the rest of the DropShip crew, if you held a rank in any other military, you'd be entitled to retain it, but I don't see that anywhere, so you'll technically be classed as a civilian. Actual seniority will be established once the whole crew is hired. We would also expect you to chip in in a fight, should the need arise, but it's unlikely.

He fiddles with his noteputer before sliding over a sheet of paper. "That's the standard DropShip crew contract, it doesn't need signing now, but take it away and if this all goes well in this interview, you're happy, I'm happy, you sign both copies and give one to our business operator, Ms Lang, and she'll give you a chit to obtain your standard equipment from one of the stores here in Harlech. You're free to bring your own equipment on board, within sensible limits." He looks up. "You don't have any vehicles yourself? Nothing as grand as a 'mech, but a ground car or a bike? We have limited space if so."

Lyra glanced down at the paper, noting it as a pretty standard looking contract at first glance, before looking back up to meet Duch’s look.

“No vehicles. It would be a rather capricious endeavour to have one on my travelling exploits, so I tend to travel light. Though,” and she leaned forward with a slight glimmer of pride, “I have recently learnt just how to fly one of those,” with another motion out the window.

“Not saying you need such skills, but it’s always useful to have a backup pilot or navigator on your crew.”

A raised eyebrow from Duch. "Is that right?" he glanced behind at the vessel and then smiled a little. "Well, we do have a pilot, but it's always good to have backups, and co-pilots. For the record though, you're applying as a technician, yes? And not a pilot? The contract is essentially the same, barring a few clauses regarding responsibilities.

"I can't tell you too much until you're signed on, but we have a contact under negotiation, and expect to ship out in around a week's time, JumpShip availability notwithstanding. If you can get that signed and back to Ms Lang before then, welcome aboard Dr. Oates."

“I’m definitely applying as a technician, yes,” Lyra nodded. “That’s where my passion lies.”

She picked the paper up from the desk and stood. “Thank you! If that’s all you need from me, I have a contract to peruse.”

User avatar
Xah
Councillor
Councillor
Posts: 644
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 11:04 pm
NS Nation (Prefix): The Morthanveld Polity of
Client Tech Level: A2
Client Leader: Ancient One
Client Councillor: Speaker
Client Species: Morthanveld
Location: --
Contact:

Re: Mechwarrior Introduction Post

Post by Xah » Tue Apr 30, 2019 11:57 am

The next candidate enters and walks towards the two at the desk. "Hello, I'm Baronet Gaius Manius of Kestrel." he says, extending his hand for a handshake towards Duch.

A slight smile from Duch as the hand is extended and he reaches out to return the shake, "Baronet Manius, a pleasure to meet you. It's not often we get such esteemed company. Please take a seat." He sits down himself at the other side of the desk. On the other side of the room, the other man is already sat, his gaze focused on the wall in front of him.

Duch spoke again. "I'm not one for formal interviews, and to be honest, I'm looking for soldiers, not secretaries, so your skills in the field are more important to me. I've only really got a few questions, so firstly. What is it that you can do? What role are you looking for?"

Gaius sits down. "I've served in three tours and participated in two conflicts as cavalry and became a Leftenent. I can lead, and hold my own in a fight, but I'm best with ballistic weapons. I can even drive anything with wheels, and even as far as fix them. As for what role I'm looking for? Well, anything that lets me both lead with a bit of excitement."

Duch nods. "Where did you serve? If you don't mind me asking that is, and whilst we don't have any combat vehicles, we actually have an opening for a pilot for the APC in the scout platoon; it's not very glamourous, but you'll get the usual share of the profits. I'm usually inclined to give people rank based on what they held in previous service. As a leftenent, you get officer's share of the profit. Typically a share of one eighth with the other officers. I can't promise field command of the scout squad; I've not finalised its members yet, but you'll get some command for sure."

He fiddles with his noteputer before sliding over a sheet of paper. "That's the standard officer's contract, it doesn't need signing now, but take it away and if this all goes well in this interview, you're happy, I'm happy, you sign both copies and give one to our business operator, Ms Lang, and she'll give you a chit to obtain your standard equipment from one of the stores here in Harlech."

A pause, "Forgot to ask if you had anything yourself. It's usually an important question to ask the mechwarriors and pilots, but I must admit I neglected to ask a cavalry type, forgive me."

Gaius leans back a bit in the chair, "Well I've served in the defence of Coventry. That is when I earned my commission. Right after that was the Refusal war which is where I earned my promotion to leftenant. Not much I can say other than that." He readjusts himself in his seat to sit upright again, "Well, seems I'm your man then. I understand you can't promise a field command yet but the prospect is exciting enough."

Gaius looks at the paper, takes it, and quickly looks over it. "Sounds good to me."

Gaius pauses for a short moment, "I still maintain a small portion of my previous kit when I needed to play the role as infantry. Flak Suit, and a Zeus Heavy Rifle. I would have brought my Pilum but due to a small bit of... drama with some other nobles, they attempted to assassinate me by destroying it. A common thing you hear all the time I'm sure."

At the mention of Coventry there is a slight twitch of the lips from Duch and a quick glance towards the other man. "Coventry. That was a tough gig. I fought there myself in the Expeditionary Force, and it was hard going until the relief forces of Victor Steiner-Davion turned up. You guys probably saved our asses," he paused. "I wasn't even supposed to be there; was seconded to a mercenary unit as liaison. Fate is a mysterious master. Didn't get out to the Refusal War myself; fought in Bulldog against Smoke Jaguar then mustered out soon after. Too many personal demons to drag my ass out to the Clan homeworlds and back.

"Don't worry about the vehicle, we've got one of them and I'm not entirely sure it would fit on the DropShip anyway. You're free to retain your personal weapons and armour, the provided kit is good enough, but to be honest, it's standard stuff. I'm not going to begrudge people their own."

He stands and extends a hand. "Make sure you check the contact thoroughly, but assuming all is well, welcome to the Crimson Company, Leftenent Manius."

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest