D
DeadAxl
Guest
Original poster
Location: Centrinus Major, Centrinus IV, Location nicknamed: "The Fringe"
Date: 137 SOL, 2325
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Welcome, -username-! It has been -time unavailable- since your last login to the Net!"
A bubbly female voice sounds from the speakers in the dataslab, the light emanating from the screen being the only source of illumination on the bridge. The silhouette of a man is outlined by the dim, artificial light, clearly powerfully built, with hair that at least goes down past his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, you damn slow startup sequence. We really need to upgrade our slabs sometime soon." The man complains to nobody in particular, his deep baritone resonating off the walls of the otherwise empty bridge. A nearby pedestal lights up with a pale light, showing the holographic image of a teenaged girl, with long, pink hair and sleeves that are much longer than her arms, which are currently crossed. She gives him an annoyed look, though the man isn't paying attention. She pouts, and makes a swiping motion in the air, activating all of the bridge lights as she does so. The man responds with a yell of pain as he covers his eyes. "What the hell, Alice?!"
"Current news: 'The latest Rocky sequel has hit new box-office highs as boxing champion makes triumphant return!', 'Reports from the Fringe Territories have been troubling as news of Pirate attacks have become more frequent.', 'Latest scientific report from renowned xenobiologist says "There is still possibility of Alien Life"; Scientific community mocks the man.', 'Tensions increase in the No-Man's Land as skirmishes become frighteningly more frequent.'. Select a topic to know more"
The man, now more clearly visible in the light, is wearing a white duster coat adorned with a crimson red emblem of a stylized dragon coiled around a lance on the back, with long blue-black hair going down past his waist. His tanned skin is a rather interesting contrast to his very white outfit, which remains as casual as possible, while refraining from being baggy. The man frowns, leaning back in his chair as his eyes adjust to the now brightly-lit bridge of his ship: the Dragoon. He looks down at the dataslab with a slight scowl, as he stares with a silent intensity. "I'm telling you, you're worrying too much. We've been at a stalemate for years, and it's not like a few mercenary teams will make a difference!"
Lately, both sides of the war have been hiring any and every mercenary team, ace pilot squadron, and freelance commando unit out there, and the air (or, well, space) in the Fringe Regions is filled with the tension that comes before a hurricane on an aquatic world. Many have been evacuating the colonies there, others are too poor to afford offworld transit for their entire families. And some live in blissful ignorance or outright denial of the hell that is about to befall their worlds.
The Imperial Navy, the majority of which has been stationed at the fringe for years now, hasn't helped ease tensions one bit either. The sight of a single Dreadnought in a system is usually a bad omen, but so many on the fringe worlds could mean disaster for any ship suicidal enough to try and break the line. The Fringe has been closely monitored for spies, smugglers, and deserters, to the point where one slight misstep could send an unlucky individual to high-security triple-max prison. This made getting work for a mercenary team near-impossible, unless you signed up with Big Brother.
"Well, if I'm wrong, we'll have more boring, workless days. But if I'm right..." He stares at the pad, frowning as the news report finishes up. Typical biased news stations, misrepresenting the situation. He sighs before moving over to the captain's chair. He swivels the command console to face him, before hitting the "wake up" switch, which set the entire ship into full power mode, hopefully waking any of the other members of the Red Dragoons.
@Tarieles @-Toxic-Madness- @Cry.EXE @Tarot
Date: 137 SOL, 2325
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Welcome, -username-! It has been -time unavailable- since your last login to the Net!"
A bubbly female voice sounds from the speakers in the dataslab, the light emanating from the screen being the only source of illumination on the bridge. The silhouette of a man is outlined by the dim, artificial light, clearly powerfully built, with hair that at least goes down past his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, you damn slow startup sequence. We really need to upgrade our slabs sometime soon." The man complains to nobody in particular, his deep baritone resonating off the walls of the otherwise empty bridge. A nearby pedestal lights up with a pale light, showing the holographic image of a teenaged girl, with long, pink hair and sleeves that are much longer than her arms, which are currently crossed. She gives him an annoyed look, though the man isn't paying attention. She pouts, and makes a swiping motion in the air, activating all of the bridge lights as she does so. The man responds with a yell of pain as he covers his eyes. "What the hell, Alice?!"
"Current news: 'The latest Rocky sequel has hit new box-office highs as boxing champion makes triumphant return!', 'Reports from the Fringe Territories have been troubling as news of Pirate attacks have become more frequent.', 'Latest scientific report from renowned xenobiologist says "There is still possibility of Alien Life"; Scientific community mocks the man.', 'Tensions increase in the No-Man's Land as skirmishes become frighteningly more frequent.'. Select a topic to know more"
The man, now more clearly visible in the light, is wearing a white duster coat adorned with a crimson red emblem of a stylized dragon coiled around a lance on the back, with long blue-black hair going down past his waist. His tanned skin is a rather interesting contrast to his very white outfit, which remains as casual as possible, while refraining from being baggy. The man frowns, leaning back in his chair as his eyes adjust to the now brightly-lit bridge of his ship: the Dragoon. He looks down at the dataslab with a slight scowl, as he stares with a silent intensity. "I'm telling you, you're worrying too much. We've been at a stalemate for years, and it's not like a few mercenary teams will make a difference!"
Lately, both sides of the war have been hiring any and every mercenary team, ace pilot squadron, and freelance commando unit out there, and the air (or, well, space) in the Fringe Regions is filled with the tension that comes before a hurricane on an aquatic world. Many have been evacuating the colonies there, others are too poor to afford offworld transit for their entire families. And some live in blissful ignorance or outright denial of the hell that is about to befall their worlds.
The Imperial Navy, the majority of which has been stationed at the fringe for years now, hasn't helped ease tensions one bit either. The sight of a single Dreadnought in a system is usually a bad omen, but so many on the fringe worlds could mean disaster for any ship suicidal enough to try and break the line. The Fringe has been closely monitored for spies, smugglers, and deserters, to the point where one slight misstep could send an unlucky individual to high-security triple-max prison. This made getting work for a mercenary team near-impossible, unless you signed up with Big Brother.
"Well, if I'm wrong, we'll have more boring, workless days. But if I'm right..." He stares at the pad, frowning as the news report finishes up. Typical biased news stations, misrepresenting the situation. He sighs before moving over to the captain's chair. He swivels the command console to face him, before hitting the "wake up" switch, which set the entire ship into full power mode, hopefully waking any of the other members of the Red Dragoons.
@Tarieles @-Toxic-Madness- @Cry.EXE @Tarot