Hallis Mir

Description:

Fenris´ current possessions (or, what he could escape with): 2 daggers: 1 sheathed on his left thigh, the other concealed in a hidden slit within his jacket 1 KF-45 Auto Pistol

a. 1 TL 8 silencer
b. 2 12 round magazines, loaded with “man stopper anti-personnel” rounds

1 Quick Draw Holster, positioned low on his hip, left side (thin Han Solo’s holster rig) 1 Communicator (Audio only), TL 6, placed in carrying case on right side, clipped into the pistol holster Subdermal Armour, TL 11, Armor 3 (worn) 1 Magpul Masada Adaptive Combat Rifle

a. 1 TL 8 gyrostabiliser
b. secure weapon coding (Iris and fingerprint, password)
c. 1 full magazine in weapon, 1 extra mag in jacket

1 Mauser “Street Sweeper” Combat Shotgun (placed in an over the shoulder right side holster)

a. 14 shells, all 20-20 buckshot rounds

1 air filter CR 1,500 --

6 Weeks Ago

Caladbol-B565776-A The traveller sat at the bar, a tiny pub styled along the lines of the old terran “British” pubs of centuries past, nursing his drink. A quick glance at his cred chip confirmed what he already feared. Unless he was able to trade work for passage, he was stuck here for the time being, not that it wasn’t a bad place, mind you, the infighting between the rival governments made movement between the territories difficult, but there was no double checking of his PKID, as long as he was careful to travel between unified states. He sighs to himself. “Spending the creds on this new look and identification was a risk, but it looks as if everything passed muster for now. Now I just need to keep moving, put a few more parsecs between myself and Bis. Once I’m in the deep frontier, I’ll send a note back to Mother and Father before moving on.” “ I never would’ve figured my Father would agree to this madness. Granted, the union makes sense, from a business standpoint, but what about honor?” He pushes the troubling thought out of his head, as he makes up his mind to head towards the starport and check listings for departing ships out system. As he begin to rise, he spots in the glass of his drink, a figure moving up quickly behind him.. “There is something in combat, some call it the ‘fog of war’, others, the veil. It’s hard to explain, but your body and reflexes, trained for years in combat situations take over, and all your mind becomes focused on is survival, and dispatching any immediate threats in range.” “Told ya.” “Cripes ist er schnell!” “Ja, ich bin, und wenn Ihr Freund mag eine Verwirrung aufräumen, schlage ich vor, dass Sie ruhig abreisen!” “Hold on, friend! I apologize for the rude introduction. My associate and I are recruiting individuals for a mining company. Our problem, we’re a start-up, and there’s a lot of competition dirt-side, so we’re trying to secure security for the miners. We’re not looking for mercs, just common folks who can take care of themselves in a scrap. Pay’s fair, we cover transport costs to planet side, along with meals, and you get your own bed. Prove yourself trustworthy, and there’s a monthly bonus in it for you.” “That’s the carrot, what’s the stick?” “6 months minimum commitment, you don’t ask questions, and you don’t rock the boat.” “Where?” “567-908, ever hear of it?” “No.” “Neither has most of the Imperium.” One Hour ago.. 567-908 E532000-8 The job I took was not an honorable one. The company, MMS Inc. is run by small time thugs and profiteers who use our “security” force to intimidate smaller mining consignments to surrender their claims. My experience in my “old” life has come in handy on more than one occasion, be it using small group tactics to flank a larger force, or applying guerrilla tactics to “encourage” companies to move along. Either way, our employers have made a tiny profit, and our team usually reaps the benefits. The men are ruffians, and lack the honor and discipline of a military unit, and I have done my best not to train them, lest they take the opportunity to bite the hand that feeds them. So I make suggestions, usually to our “manager” who is nothing more than the bully who has been here long enough to establish a power base. I figure eventually my usefulness will come to an end, and either I’ll be run off, or killed, since I know far too much to be allowed to walk away from here peacefully, much like that unfortunate hunting party who got too close to one of our more profitable veins of crystal. Fools. However, I’ve come to find out after one of my long range patrols that a Starship has recently made dirtside. “So, what’s her name?” “The Autumn Gold, I think.” “No, you idiot! the woman! What was her name?” “Corelli. Like I always tells you. Fine filly, she is.” “Yeah, but no trouble tonight, she’s got a pack of do-gooders with her. Couple of ‘em stuck their noses into our little transaction with the ATV’s.” “Why? We had the funds for them.” I chime in. “You know the boss, ‘Fen. Why pay when you can borrow, long term?” “So you didn’t get the ATV’s. You know what’s gonna happen now, right?” “You, myself, Thom, Daryon, and the “Beef” are going to go down, pay for those ATV’s and drive them back here, then you all are going to clean them until we can eat off of them, IS THAT CLEAR?” In unison: “Yes Sir!!” “Good, grab your gear, we roll in 5 mikes.” “Mikes?” “Minutes, We leave in 5 minutes.”

30 minutes later, 567-908 Starport

“ Fenris, we’re here.” “Good time. Nice job, Jace. Let’s park here. I figure the Captain’s probably wetting her whistle by now, so we’ll go in, make nice, hope the PRICE hasn’t gone up, and be done with it. We get this done quick, drinks are on………” As Fenris turns, he sees his 4 men moving as quietly and quickly as possible towards the storage warehouse, carrying a large set of bolt cutters. Running after them, he arrives at the pair of large doors fronting the warehouse just as the group does. “Have you all lost your ever loving minds?!?” He barks out in a harsh whisper. “Sorry,’Fen, Marvin’s orders. Came down while you were getting the hover. He wants to send a message.” “What, rob a freighter? Do you idiots want no ship to set planet side again? Because that’s what will happen!!” “We go in..” “And do what? Starting up ATV’s isn’t a silent procedure! You want to bring guns down on us?” “Look, Fenris! We’re going to do this! You can either help, or get out of the..” They all look to see a shotgun leveled on them, along with the cold, dead, green eyes of their one time associate. “WHAT..you’re all going to do, raising his voice as loud as he can, trying to gain attention from the saloon, is drop your weapons, get down on your knees, cross your legs over and cross your arms behind your back, and hope I don’t decide to shoot you fools for getting me caught up in Marvin’s idiotic plans!!” “You know we can’t do that, ‘Fen, you know this doesn’t work well for you, when Marvin finds out..” “Yeah, yeah, woe upon my poor soul!” “Shame, too. I heard he was thinking of making you a percentage partner.” “I heard he was going to put a bullet in my skull eventually.” “Things change.” Yelling as loud as he can, “Yeah, they do! So, you THIEVES, are going to sit there and be nice until the ‘port manager gets HERE, and SEES you attempting to rob the wareho-“ Jace, thinking he could get the draw on a loaded shotgun at close range, reaches for his pistol. I fire.
Bio:

Hallis Mir

Free Trader: Maverick MarcRichardson