Force
military, coming from Axius to the mainline branch and everything in between.
“Lieutenant,” the Protovic greeted one of the Humans,
recognizing him but not the others. That wasn’t uncommon, for Brayden’s
Marauders had over 12,000 regulars, with that number growing each decade.
“Le’han’trel,” the Human replied, knowing every one of
the men under his command personally, not counting the affiliates like the Donklap , who were local hires. “Is the client here?”
“Not here as in the base, but he’s in a hotel nearby.
I can arrange for you to meet with him whenever, wherever.”
“Arrange it,” Mason Harkor said, tossing his cloak bundle onto a nearby table with the others. “Somewhere
private, but not here.”
The Protovic nodded then gestured to one of the six
locals in the room, which doubled as their lounge/ comms center, then rattled off instruction in a language that the Lieutenant couldn’t
identify. A spindly creature that looked to be little more than bone with skin
draped over responded and got on the comm , sending
out a text transmission and nothing that would give anyone information as to
the details or location of their outpost.
It was a legitimate business acquisition, for the
Marauders were renting the facility, but as far as the landlords knew it was
just a warehousing slot allotment, and as long as the demaks ,
their local currency, kept flowing in they never bothered to check up on the
tenants. Similar arrangements were common on this part of the planet, and it
gave the Marauders the anonymity they needed, for while mercenaries weren’t
uncommon on Tieor they were something best kept out of sight.
Especially high level mercs that had better equipment than the local defense force.
“Alright guys, settle in. We’re going to be here at
least a few days.”
“Left, then two rights,” Le’han’trel said, gesturing
to a side door that led into other areas of the fairly large facility that
housed and equipped a force of more than 200 on a regular basis, though at
present less than 50 were currently on site. “Quartermaster is a Kiritak called Gargi , she’ll set you up.”
“What do we have in the mail bag?” Mason asked when
the other 7 in his strike team had left the room and he had appropriated a
nearby stool to sit on.
Le’han’trel grabbed a datapad off a shelf and tapped
it on, pulling up an inventory list of all the requests coming in to the mercs for work, most of which they would have to turn down.
The Marauders only did defensive work, and didn’t take any contracts that would
conflict with Star Force standards. While they weren’t officially affiliated with
them, the unit had been created by Brayden Yen, a high ranking commando in Clan
Caitlyn that had ‘retired’ to civilian life.
Upon leaving the military he spent the next 60 years
acquiring the credits he needed through a variety of work, all non-military,
then recruited a handful of other former Star Force commandos to create the
first of what would come to be called the Marauders. Mason was one of those
originals, and spent the next few decades working security assignments in the
undesirable sections of the ADZ where Star Force security had no presence and
where businessmen were willing to pay for personal security.
Over time Brayden collected more exiting Star Force
personnel, citing that he wanted to establish a unit that could go where Star
Force couldn’t, into the darkest corners of the galaxy and root out the
nastiness there, essentially doing the same sort of thing they’d always done,
but doing so on their own volition and own orders. They would be free to act as
they chose, but at the same time wouldn’t have any backup, for they weren’t
part of Star Force anymore.
That changeup on an old priority appealed to a decent
fraction of the retired personnel that Brayden solicited, coupled with the idea
of getting paid for the fighting they did. They’d be serving Star
military, coming from Axius to the mainline branch and everything in between.
“Lieutenant,” the Protovic greeted one of the Humans,
recognizing him but not the others. That wasn’t uncommon, for Brayden’s
Marauders had over 12,000 regulars, with that number growing each decade.
“Le’han’trel,” the Human replied, knowing every one of
the men under his command personally, not counting the affiliates like the Donklap , who were local hires. “Is the client here?”
“Not here as in the base, but he’s in a hotel nearby.
I can arrange for you to meet with him whenever, wherever.”
“Arrange it,” Mason Harkor said, tossing his cloak bundle onto a nearby table with the others. “Somewhere
private, but not here.”
The Protovic nodded then gestured to one of the six
locals in the room, which doubled as their lounge/ comms center, then rattled off instruction in a language that the Lieutenant couldn’t
identify. A spindly creature that looked to be little more than bone with skin
draped over responded and got on the comm , sending
out a text transmission and nothing that would give anyone information as to
the details or location of their outpost.
It was a legitimate business acquisition, for the
Marauders were renting the facility, but as far as the landlords knew it was
just a warehousing slot allotment, and as long as the demaks ,
their local currency, kept flowing in they never bothered to check up on the
tenants. Similar arrangements were common on this part of the planet, and it
gave the Marauders the anonymity they needed, for while mercenaries weren’t
uncommon on Tieor they were something best kept out of sight.
Especially high level mercs that had better equipment than the local defense force.
“Alright guys, settle in. We’re going to be here at
least a few days.”
“Left, then two rights,” Le’han’trel said, gesturing
to a side door that led into other areas of the fairly large facility that
housed and equipped a force of more than 200 on a regular basis, though at
present less than 50 were currently on site. “Quartermaster is a Kiritak called Gargi , she’ll set you up.”
“What do we have in the mail bag?” Mason asked when
the other 7 in his strike team had left the room and he had appropriated a
nearby stool to sit on.
Le’han’trel grabbed a datapad off a shelf and tapped
it on, pulling up an inventory list of all the requests coming in to the mercs for work, most of which they would have to turn down.
The Marauders only did defensive work, and didn’t take any contracts that would
conflict with Star Force standards. While they weren’t officially affiliated with
them, the unit had been created by Brayden Yen, a high ranking commando in Clan
Caitlyn that had ‘retired’ to civilian life.
Upon leaving the military he spent the next 60 years
acquiring the credits he needed through a variety of work, all non-military,
then recruited a handful of other former Star Force commandos to create the
first of what would come to be called the Marauders. Mason was one of those
originals, and spent the next few decades working security assignments in the
undesirable sections of the ADZ where Star Force security had no presence and
where businessmen were willing to pay for personal security.
Over time Brayden collected more exiting Star Force
personnel, citing that he wanted to establish a unit that could go where Star
Force couldn’t, into the darkest corners of the galaxy and root out the
nastiness there, essentially doing the same sort of thing they’d always done,
but doing so on their own volition and own orders. They would be free to act as
they chose, but at the same time wouldn’t have any backup, for they weren’t
part of Star Force anymore.
That changeup on an old priority appealed to a decent
fraction of the retired personnel that Brayden solicited, coupled with the idea
of getting paid for the fighting they did. They’d be serving Star
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