[b][u]planetary siege[/u][/b] [b][u]Kortan aerospace, Chradae system[/u][/b] The NTR has been hopelessly losing during the siege of Chradae. The enemy fleet doesn't match any records the NTR can find. The fleet first punctured through the scanner grid on the outlying region and made a slow advance towards the inner worlds. Early engagement fleets intercepted the enemy at the seventh planet out, Vallispa. The early engagement fleet was all but unsuccessful, and forced the NTR to evacuate the two populated planets and four moons between Vallispa and Kortan. Evacuation was only able to get a quarter of the civilians off of Kortan before the enemy came into range. Now the rest are in a shelter in place protocol to reduce civilian casualties. The enemy flagship has a large circular cannon mounted on the side. The early engagement fleet was wiped out by it after engaging. Reports suggest it's some form of matter encryptor. Small forewords vessels of the enemy fleet contain sophisticated hardlight and electromagnetic shielding, making any kind of long range engagement impossible. The inside of the blockade is full of lightweight, but fast fighters buzzing around their flagship. The NTR has sent a distress call out hours ago. Whatever reinforcements arrive are going to be directly in front of the blockade. [spoiler]closed. The enemy has been neutralized, and the alliance achieved victory.[/spoiler]

[b]Unknown Area, Milky Way PSC [i]Minor Transgression[/i] ======================== The jet black ship floated through space, scanning the black void of space around it, charting everything it can. Several other ships like it where doing so, scouting the galaxy, since a high amount of priceless ore was located in the Milky Way, a metal called "Litholium" by the Covenant. The metal was used to line the hulls of ships, the chassis of vehicles, and any other manor of uses. It was famed for its durability, as well as being lighter than steel. The process required to refine it was hard, but the PSC was able to find am easier way to smelt and forge the metal.... [/b]

[u][i][b]All Hell Breaks Loose[/b][/i][/u] [b][u]Setting: A High Security NTR Prison[/u][/b] [u][b]Time: 21:00[/b][/u] [b]Sirens are heard as every cell door opens and prisoners run free. These sirens are quickly muted by all of the power being cut off to the prison, but all of a sudden a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XncuY4wLaA8]song[/url] plays on the speakers. The prison has erupted into complete anarchy and it appears there's no hope for the remaining security to get out alive.[/b]

[b]A [url=http://pre02.deviantart.net/73a3/th/pre/f/2013/196/d/5/hunter_one_resize_by_emilisb-d6dmp6i.jpg]male[/url] robot standing at about 5'11" comes walking into a room. The robot finds some suggestive pictures of Ella that Chuck took, he looks confused. That's when all of a sudden someone came around the corner to find a male robot holding pictures of the underage Ella.[/b] [spoiler]Open. You're that someone.[/spoiler]

[b]Outside the NTR Crusader.[/b] [i]Jäger's ship floated outside of the Crusader. Only a mile away, his ship, broken and malfunctioning. His patience, tested.[/i] "Shit, if they notice us how will they react?" [u]Well, you could try to make contact.[/u] "Good idea, but you know how I hate interactions with others" [u]The ships dead, the only way we can get back online is if we seek help.[/u] "Yet I don't need to seek help." [u]Yes you do.[/u] "You don't know that." [u]Remember, I'm a computer AI you built, I know everything.[/u] "Ok, lets say we ask for help. What happens if they find it." [u]I guess I never thought over.[/u] "See, you don't know everything." [u]The only way to fix the ship is to find help.[/u] "Listen, lets just wait it out." [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Back to where it started.[/u][/i][/b] *Mortar and Caesar. To many, these two names seem useless; it's rather odd to talk about a cannon and a Roman emperor in the same sentence. But to those who know either one of them can make out the other. Mortar and Caesar are allies in war, bound by one simple job: to eventually take down Mortar's father.* *It's interesting to see the two together, their appearances could not be more different, unless one spontaneously changed gender. Mortar is small, just hitting 5'10", and thin. If he has his shirt off you can see his ribs. He wears mostly black, tight fitting clothing, with a mask that covers his entire head except for his blazing crimson eyes. On his back are multiple throwing knives, daggers, etc. Caesar, on the other hand, is more muscular, sitting at a good 6'4". He wears full body armor, a white colored chainmail with bronze colored plates welded onto it, providing maximum protection. He has a thin layer of white gel under this armor, keeping him cool and provides resistance to fire and electricity. On his back, a four foot long golden colored greatsword, with a platinum dragon head at the base of the sword, making the blade appear to be its tongue. His helmet is strange, resembling a xenomorph head, except instead of an elongated head it dons a crimson feather with white spots on it. Under the helm, however, is a sturdy looking face, wearing a white beard. His eyes are strange, the whites and pupils are a hazy grey, but his irises are a milky white haze. But despite appearing completely different they work like a well oiled machine together, their history in war long.* [b][i][u]Gydaton, 1300 hours[/u][/i][/b] *Mortar and Caesar walk through the dense jungle, massive skyscrapers tower over the trees above them not far away. Caesar looks around in awe, the raw beauty of the place leaves him speechless. Mortar, on the other hand, holds his own sword, a four and a half foot long dark blue katana broadsword mix with emerald green flames coming off of it. True, the beauty of the place is a sight to behold but Mortar's been here before; Caesar hasn't. Mortar knows the dangers which hide in the trees above them or the mud under them, and is cautious about every sound he hears. One relatively close sound causes him to stop walking and grab Caesar's arm so he would stay put as well. He raises his weapon* Come out now, this blade does more than look intimidating. [spoiler]Open. You're the noise.[/spoiler]

I don't know what I am supposed to do

[b][i]Back Before Dinner[/i][/b] [b]NTR Crusader, Hangar Bays[/b] [i]The damaged carcass of the gunship exited warp in the center of the hangar, the wormhole surprisingly doing no damage. What remained of the craft looked as if an inner explosion had torn much of the controls and inner systems apart. Smoke issued forth from both engines, and there seemed to be a few hull breaches in the side of the ship as if it had been shot. The largest hull breach, however, was that of a drop pod. With that, it could safely be assumed that pirates had been the cause of this ship's demise. After a moment, the door of the craft was kicked outwards, and a hulking figure in power armor exited, revolver in one hand, pulling the crash vault with his other hand. His armor bore some serious scorch marks all across it. Alex Wilson stood there in the hangar, looking around, in his full suit of X-01 MKVI Advanced Tesla Power Armor. His M134D-H sat atop his left shoulder, the skull of an alpha deathclaw atop his right. A large knife was situated in a leg holster on the inside of his left leg, and two large revolvers sat at his hips. Two belts of 7.62x51mm NATO ammo crossed his chest, and on his back, beneath his Old World Flag cloak, an M240B, an M1 rifle, and a machete. On the rear of his waist, a sawback Bowie, and an M1911 in a shoulder holster. The helmet he wore was still spattered with blood, and the insignia of the Cobalt Phoenix graced his chest-plate.[/i] So this is the new ship? I'm impressed. Not too bad this time around, Treyman. [i]Behind him, another figure came forth from the door, the scorch marks much less noticeable on his black exosuit. In his full suit of armor, Jackson Wolfe looked extremely imposing. The exosuit was painted matte black, with scratches and scrapes all across it, along with a few bullet ricochet marks. On his left leg, a large Bowie knife sat in its sheath. At his waist, a leather gunbelt, and at each of his hips, a .44 magnum, Smith and Wesson Model 629 Performance Center Specials. Magnum shells lined the gunbelt as well. Across his chest, a bandolier, with numerous tactical pouches used to store various items for any situation. His cloak was back, exposing both his shoulders and his helmet. On his left pauldron, a kukri was situated in its sheath, and on his right, five .50BMG rounds sat in a sidesaddle. The tip of his blade's hilt could be seen over his right shoulder, the stock of his Barrett M107A1 over his right. However, what stood out the most was the mask he wore. It fully covered his face and head, and the lenses of the eyes glowed an eerie blue. Like the armor, it was painted entirely black, save for three jagged white slashes across the right side, painted bright white. He too appeared to be impressed.[/i] Sleek construction. Reinforced hull paneling, updated gunships and fighters as well. [i]remarked Wolfe as he observed his surroundings.[/i] Hey, quit lookin' at sh*t kid we gotta at least let 'em know we're friendly. [i]shouted Wilson.[/i] [spoiler]Open to those on the Crusader. [/spoiler]

[i]The collective[/i] The NTR detected a anomalous deep space signal, the coordinates led to an uninhabited sector of the Galaxy, the Ishtar system. It was unknown who sent it but the signal was mathematical in design and strong in reception. Whoever or whatever it was, they were welcoming people to that section of space.

[b]The next morning after a day of frustration from a faulty dating simulator, being harassed by some of the crew, having a few drinks then looking over the new recruit Alpha he woke up the next morning with an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand with a light hearted laughter[/b] I'm broken in so many god damned ways I lost count...or maybe I can't remember...whatever [b]He throws the bottle across the room into a recycling bin before standing up and moving to his bookshelf slightly buzzed from his drinks but that wasn't going to stop him just yet[/b] [spoiler]open mainly to Alpha or anyone that knows Lucifer well enough[/spoiler]

[b][i]3rd Arm Spiral, 28th System, Nomea Outpost, Neutral Territory[/i][/b] [b]It was an out-of-the-way cafe, on the upper levels of the station. A figure sat next to the window, looking through the transparasteel as the station slowly turns on it's axis. A table raised up from the floor, a seat on the other side. The figure awaits the delegate of the possible ally.[/b] [spoiler]Open to those who know.[/spoiler]

[i]Lounge #11 was empty that day, completely devoid of any and all signs of life or movements, aside from the circular fan that circulated air around the oak walled room with blue carpet floors. The steel door slid open as JT approached it, which was one of the new featured of the NTR Crusader and was installed near the end of the ships creation. The room was still and silent, until Treyman's footsteps disturbed the silence as he walked into the room. He had a casual suit on his body, a blue suit with the sleeves rolled to just above his elbows, and an open jacket to reveal a white shirt and black tie. He only carried Ranger Sequoia on him as a weapon, which remained on his hip. And so he started to mx himself a drink behind the bar. [/i] ((Open))

[b]Lucifer as some would call him walked around the NTR crusader's hallways mumbling to himself about nonsense which was normal but ever since he arrived his right arm had been wrapped in gauze and he wore a black leather glove on the hand, at first it seemed like he was injured but he seems to be hiding something from everyone[/b] Shouldn't have done it and I should have done something about it sooner...August you son of a bitch you are gonna owe me for this [b]He stopped for a moment and looked around making sure nobody was around to see him and he started to take the glove off his right hand[/b] [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

Sawyer hadn't ever been forcefully jetted through deep space with the barrels of high-Powered energy rifles trained on his head, personally escorted into a monolithic ship that stretched for whole miles, branded in a dark and humid sub-terrainian terminal as an enemy of the state. His indentured servitude as a warhorse was not forceful but rather an olive branch to the whole of the Union, yet they seemed to snap it over their imposing knee. This wasn't the first time Sawyer was drafted into war, regardless of will. This wouldn't be the last, certainly. The Paladin looked over wrinkled scrubs within his quarters. The fatigues were coarse and worn, but he'd had worse on his back. The heat was brutal as the Crusader's engines were directly above the bunks where soldiers dwelled, but Sawyer bared worse under foreign twin suns. The searing pain that burned within him as his back was marked by hot coals was nonexistent as the iron bolstered into his skin took the brunt of it. In his mind, it was just pleasant to not be wrapped up in another war. [spoiler]Open to all, specifically Vio and Orn[/spoiler]

[b][i]Elecin yawned. He was bored, although he knew he should be training. However, be'd been training absolutely nonstop since the day he found out about his father's true identity, so he deserved a break.[/i][/b] [spoiler]For Babe[/spoiler]

[b]New Roommate[/b] [i]NTR Crusader, Barracks[/i] [i]Michael's head felt as if it were about to explode, and when he opened his eyes, the lights seemed almost blinding. He'd woken up in his bunk, with what few possessions he was allowed to bring with him lying on the floor. He was on the top bunk of what appeared to be a bunk-bed in this small, cramped quarter in the Crusader. Even with a groggy head, he knew that Cooper had poisoned his drink, and that he had been smuggled here while he was unconscious. Oh, the irony. Yet there were more important questions to be asked. Drake knew that the NTR was incredibly lenient when it came to relationships, and males and females were often paired in the same quarter together. Still half-drugged, he rolls over so that he looks down at the person below him with a grin,[/i] "Hey, what's up?" ([b]Open[/b])

[b]A man in a suit and tie sits behind a desk with two chairs in front of him. He's the newly appointed psychologist of the new ship and is currently waiting for members of the crew to come in for their required mental testing.[/b] [spoiler]Open. This is meant to be lighthearted and not necessarily canon.[/spoiler]

[i][b]Done Dirt Cheap[/b][/i] [i]"Pick up the phone I'm always home Call me any time Just ring 36124-36 hey I lead a life of crime" -AC/DC[/i] [b]Orbit of NTR Fringeworld, Aboard a Weapons Transport Vessel[/b] [i]A gunshot. The loud bang echoed through the room, as the man fell backwards, half of his head shorn off by the .500 S&W Magnum round. The others around him panicked, unable to scream or run, arms and legs bound, mouths taped shut. Before them stood none other than Alex Wilson, Courier Six. In his hand, a large revolver, his minigun aimed upwards, having recently been used, as evidenced by the smoke issuing from the barrels.[/i] Alright look guys, don't make this difficult. I know Treyman and Cooper. I just need your shipment. Give me the armory codes, and I'll gladly piss off and leave you alone. You don't? I'll shoot every last f*cking one of you! [i]he said in a rather peppy voice, which sounded odd given the mechanical filtered sound his helmet have him.[/i] [i]Walking up to the next crew member, he removed the tape, and asked his question, pulling back the hammer of his revolver.[/i] Codes? You're insane! [i]the man shouted in reply.[/i] [i]With a BANG, the man's head collapsed inwards like a watermelon after being hit with a hammer. Cocking the hammer again, Wilson approached the third man, pulling the tape from the man's face.[/i] It's... The code is 184739175! I swear! I swear! [i]He said fearfully, after having seen Wilson just shoot two of his friends in the head.[/i] Good man. [i]Wilson replied as he holstered his revolver, heading to the doorway behind the man. Entering the code, he watched as the door opened and revealed the armory, loaded with all sorts of fancy weaponry. Entering, the courier began to load himself up with various weapons, sliding several across his back, [spoiler] http://i.neoseeker.com/ca/fear_2_project_origin_conceptart_WN0m4.jpg http://orig09.deviantart.net/103c/f/2014/120/6/1/after_reset_rpg_concepts_m57_aar_by_blackcloudstudios-d7gkesb.png http://img06.deviantart.net/8dea/i/2012/012/8/5/syndicate_concept_art___riotlance_by_torvenius-d4m3m0g.jpg http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qsuA__vbY70/T4aXeD7YmeI/AAAAAAAAEsw/ypN5G2mwoRM/s1600/futuristic+sci+fi+semi+automatic+sub+machine+gun+military+gun+set+sniper+assault+rifle+machinegun+firearm+fn+p90+blaster+laser+las-rifle+alien+mech+mp6+mp7+Hyperdyne+Pulse+Carbine+by_ChainsawDroid.jpg https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ae/c3/78/aec378ac9771be95a5ca6775b5a9db2b.jpg http://img00.deviantart.net/ab86/i/2013/183/e/f/cal_93_xb_shotgun_by_blackdonner-d6bqrrc.jpg [/spoiler] putting several under his bandoliers, [spoiler] http://web.ccpgamescdn.com/dust/news.control/8738/1/Nove_Knife.jpg http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j38/flaming_dude/Uni%20Work%202010/Scott_Revolver_Concepts.jpg http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/borderlands/images/f/fc/Dahl_pistol_breakdown.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150225154920 https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/bc/da/64/bcda64fb5980b9458a758557b1f17b2f.jpg http://orig00.deviantart.net/562c/f/2013/183/c/e/light_frame_zbrm_4121_revolver_by_blackdonner-d6bqsb0.jpg [/spoiler] and even carrying a few after loading up with munitions. Exiting the armory of the ship with a full arsenal, he waved to the crew.[/i] Ship's fine. You guys can go home or do whatever. Tell Treyman I said thanks. [i]With that, he boarded his own vessel with his newfound gear, and headed out to do whatever it was that the wild Wilson does, which meant kill more sh*t and steal more gear for no reason other than "because." Upon boarding his stolen gunship, however, the Courier was confronted by his partner. Wolfe was not ok with Wilson stealing and harming their one-time ally, even if it was only a few gun-stealings. The senseless killing was what bothered him.[/i] Wilson, you know you're going to put us on a watch list, or get them all pissed at us. [i]he said, stepping forth behind his companion as they moved the ship from the side of the transport.[/i] Trust me, we're good. Only thing we may have to worry about is the Alliance, because those pr*cks don't know me. [i]he replied nonchalantly.[/i] And if they come after you? [i]Wilson laughed.[/i] I do what I do to everyone else who thinks chasing me around is a good idea. Just be careful what you do, please. [i]Wolfe sighed.[/i] I'd like to live long enough to see a wife and child. [spoiler]Open, they're on their ship leaving the transport.[/spoiler]

[b][u]Welcome to the enclave[/u][/b] [b]A ship much like the one before landed in the hangar of the NTR Cruisader, unlike the ship from before this one lands near-flawlessly and with the precision of a surgeon. Soon after the landing two squads of soldiers wearing armor resembling a cross between a hazmat suit and a full-body suit of armor step out with laser, ballistic, and plasma weapons drawn. [/b] "Area clear, sir?" "Not yet, corporal." [b]They scan the area with weapons in hand, they seem like they would stand there all day if ordered to.[/b] "Who are we looking for again, sir?" "Ever seen a walking corpse, Lieutenant? We're looking for one." "Yessir." [spoiler]Open. These are just generic soldiers so feel free to do whatever but don't kill them just yet.[/spoiler]

[b][i]Elecin walked down an empty corridor, wearing his usual clothes. Black combat pants, boots, gloves, and a vest. A black belt, with a longsword sheathed on the left side, a .357 caliber revolver in its holster on the right. His expression was serious, contrary to the fact that Eli was never really much of a serious guy. He had worried about being hired for a crew on a warship. After, he knew that his combat skills were… lackluster, said in the nicest way possible. Maybe that was the reason for him visiting the psychologist, or maybe he was told to. However, he walked to an office door, knocking twice nonetheless.[/i][/b][spoiler]Um.... Open? I don't know, okay? I'm just visiting the demn psychologist… LET ME IN![/spoiler]

[b]Unknown Galaxy Harvest, PSC Homeworld ===================== A large sphere of a room, chairs and people sitting all around them, arguing over some problem in an unknown language. The main bulk seemed human, others where of a variety of sentient and advanced alien races from the galaxy. In the middle of the room was an odd looking map, a 3D sphere with a map of the Milky Way, showing various markers and symbols. One of them pointed, a human looking figure, at an alien across the room. The human like figure was decorated in holographic medals. The alien, was dressed the same, both high ranking officials of some sort. The human figure shouted in his unknown language, either accusing or arguing with the alien, as he hit a button on a holo-panel and the map enhanced, showing a sleek black triangular ship, floating in the vastness of space. The alien yelled back, then sat ba k down as another person yelled at them both, and both went back to arguing over something....[/b] [spoiler] Closed[/spoiler]