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Post by hermes on Jan 23, 2010 21:41:44 GMT -5
Lord walked casually into the bar, looking around the dimly lit affair with cool caution. There wasn't a lot of reason for him to worry, it was just a watering hole for the freighter captains. They knew how to take care of themselves, true enough, but they tended to be a fairly calm lot.
Scanning the room, Lord found who he was looking for, and calmly walked across the room. He took a seat at a bar stool, and caught the bartenders attention.
"Two of whatever she's having." Lord said, and then he turned to Lexi Legrand.
He smirked slightly, "No, I'm not here to pick you up. I have a buisness proposition for you." Lord said, "My name is Lord Leingod, and yes my first name is literally Lord. I have in my possession a set of quardinates that may make human history, but I am currently without the means to get there."
Lord calmly paused, and took a drink when it arrived.
"So, I'd like to hire you and your ship to take me there. The cargo would be me, a small fighter, and a Mercinary if I find a suitable candidate before we leave." He said, "I'm willing to pay twenty thousand credits up front, with a further eighty thousand once I deem the situation is secure." He paused.
"This could be come a rather heated situation," Lord said slowly, "So in the event that we encounter any trouble..." Lord trailed off, reaching into his coat. Slowly, he pulled out a one centimeter square cube of gold, and set it on the counter.
"Then this would be your bonus." Lord finished.
"What do you say, interested?" He asked.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 25, 2010 9:11:58 GMT -5
Lexi eyed the newcomer as he sat down and ordered, not with suspicion, but with curiosity. She took a hold of her drink and swirled it a bit before taking a small sip. Setting the drink down carefully, she mentally prepared herself for business and leaned forward. A man whose parents were pretentious enough to name him Lord must have left him all kinds of money.
"Well, Mr. Leingod, that is an interesting proposition you have there. For making human history, 100,000 creds is a steal since I'm only devoting my entire cargo hold and doubling my fuel consumption," she said, emphasizing the sarcasm on how little she was getting paid.
"But before we argue price, two questions: where are the coords, how big's the ship, and I have the right to kick out any mercenary asshole you hire if they don't jive with me or my ship. That last part wasn't a question, it was a condition."
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Post by hermes on Jan 25, 2010 12:59:27 GMT -5
"If you don't like the merc, feel free to nix the existence of his or her contract. I'd prefer it, however, if you didn't nix it through use of an airlock." Lord said, "As for fuel costs, my dear, if you are still burning chemical fuel in this age of fusion reactions, you don't need fuel. You need a refit." Lord smirked.
"The cargo is a small fighter. Large enough to fit two, and pretty narrow. My my measurements, it should fit in your cargo bay, if snugly." Lord could already see the gears turning in Lexi's head, so he finished off his drink, and ordered another.
"And darling, if I was that rich," He said in lower tones, "I'd be buying my own ship instead of hiring yours."
"The fighter is about 12 meters long, perhaps a little less. Its not quite as wide as a large tank. It'll be a snug fit, but I'd rather defend your ship in case of trouble, than abandon it and have to cover that cost as well." Lord said, "Just don't ask me where it came from."
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 25, 2010 15:37:51 GMT -5
Lexi pursed her lips at how often she was being referred to as "dear." She wouldn't say anything more about it, though. It was a minor annoyance, but if the employer insisted on being informal, then whatever.
"You still didn't tell me how far the coordinates are from here, Mr. Leingod. Direction, maybe even location, would be nice to know, too, but that's not really needed for cost calcs." Lexi tipped her cup slightly, the picked it up and took another sip. As she looked down at her drink, she noticed the piece of gold.
"Right. I come from the Belt. You know, that place with all the mining and stuff. Keep your gold, or offer me something that I can't get for cheap back home. Your offer to throw in to a tussle is enough to cover complication insurance. But, now that your ship is taking up most of my space, I'll have to give up a contract that I was contacted about this morning. 50,000 more credits, 10k of which added to the down payment, and we'll call it square."
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Post by hermes on Jan 25, 2010 16:08:18 GMT -5
Lord pursed his lips, "Twenty thousand more credits, I'm paying more than your previous contract is. And given that my ship would be incurring any damage from hostile fire, and you far more likely running away, that's more than fair." He pocketed the gold cube, took his second drink from the bartender.
"The location is several million mikes north of jupiters equater. That's all I'll say for the moment." Lord said, he put down his drink. "And Captain Legrand, if you want to be mercenary, you can tolerate whomever I hire. I will meet you at your ship in one hour."
Lord calmly walked out of the bar, and set out for blacker pastures.
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Post by ch00beh on Feb 1, 2010 13:44:19 GMT -5
What. An. Ass. Lexi calmly finished her drink while pondering what to do about this job. Leingod wasn't lying when he said he was offering her more than her current delivery job, but she didn't have to devote her entire hold to it. She could've picked picked up a couple more tons of cargo. Would've probably made the same amount while dealing with less of a headache.
Had to get back to Astraea in an hour. Whatever. The Belter ordered another drink. Her ship could greet him.
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Post by hermes on Feb 3, 2010 16:21:26 GMT -5
Lord walked into yet another dimly lit bar, in an even lower scale area. Once more, he had someone specific in mind, though his reputation was lesser known, he'd shown potential as a combat pilot.
Lord spotted the man fairly quickly, the glowing blue of his cybernetic eye's gave him away. Lord walked calmly across the room, and sat down in front of the individual.
He was wearing combat boots, one of his hands with a metallic silver, and the other was wearing a glove with cutoff fingers. The rest of him was concealed by a trench coat, save for his face. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't classically handsome either. His face had character, so he stood apart more than others, and tended towards a more angular look.
"Can I help you?" The man said, shifting his weight. He crossed his legs, revealing torn jeans beneith the trench. A gun was strapped tightly to his thigh, a fairly large machine designed to fire finger sized spikes with hydraulic pressure. Lord could barely see a pair of pressure charged glinting on his belt, and he doubted that was the extend of the man's armament.
"Yes," Lord said. "Birth number 244, a cargo ship. The cargo will be a fighter, the mission will be long range a there will likely be trouble."
The man cut him off, "You've got the wrong person."
Lord frowned, "Your name is Shape isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then I have the right person," Lord said, taking a folder out of his pocket and passing it to the man.
Shape looked through the envelope for a moment, then put it back down on the table.
"I see, fine."
Lord got up, and Shape followed suit, silently following the man back to Lexi's ship.
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