I think it's funny I currently only have...
...883 posts, as of this post.
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Message Boards - Boba Fett Fan Club Posts by Lord Revan
I think it's funny I currently only have...
...883 posts, as of this post.
*puzzled at first, then embraces hug* Not a problem, ner vod. *Mando handshake*
I hate her ambiguous relationship with Anakin though. In fact everything revolving around Anakin in this series is unbearable.
Pretty much what I was referring to, yeah.
Wow, great work you have there. Whenever I read Republic Commando, your drawings of Bardan are what I mentally pictured. Seriously, great stuff.
Oh my God, not another topic like this.
I have nothing else to say.
I am very disappointed with the new series, to be honest. How the clones are portrayed just annoys me to the point of not being able to watch such garbage (Rubbish, Sev.) I find KT's view much more realistic and in-depth, and they are portrayed as actual people instead of mindless droids.
Anakin...stupid and whiny...
And what bothers me just a little more is most of the dialogue seems too...rehearsed, fake. That's my opinion.
Although, I will say there were a few select episodes that were pretty good, but Jetiise = osik
"-Yeah, it's got some hefty recoil, but still managable." Zach carefully handed Matt's pistol back to him. "I like it, alot of people say it's overpowered and unnecessary, but it fits my needs." He didn't want to say anything about the cop's sidearm, it looked nice and was known for high accuracy, but the cartridge was a bit small for Matt's taste.
"Yep, get what you like." Zach held up his coffee mug. "Cheers."
Matt raised his mug also. "Cheers."
As if the night couldn't get more interesting, the front door slammed open. Matt instinctively grabbed the M6 off the table, chambered a round and leveled it at the the doorway.
A horribly deformed figure came stumbling in, hissing unnaturally. His eyes were darting back and fourth in a psychotic motion at the restaurant patrons.
"You alright buddy?" Zach said cautiously.
Without warning, the 'man' leapt at the cop, blood was dripping off his face and hands. Zach quick-drew his P138 sidearm and fired into his legs and lower torso, as did everyone else, hitting the man innumerable times until 'he' dropped to a slashing, convulsive crawl across the black and white checkered tile. Griggs and Tom swiftly went to the man's left and right, shoving their boots hard on his back.
"What the hell...?!"
((Short post... If Val or anyone else wants to post this guy's fate, here's your window.))
The Mercs and SF were now at stalemate. Matt decided to break the ice. "How about that..." He slowly reloaded the ammo tube of his shotgun. "...it's a Mexican standoff..." Then unsnapped his holster strap. "Only we ain't got no Mexicans."
There was a moment of silence before one of the security force elites spoke up. "I...uh...I'm Mexican..."
"Well now..." Tom raised a brow, not shifting his aim.
"I stand corrected."
"Enough of this garbage." The other SF trooper raised his SMG, opening up on the group of Mercs.
"Are you kidding?!" Tom fired a grenade from his pulse rifle "Get down!"
The grenade flew past the SF trooper, exploding into a shop across the street behind them. "FRICK!" Tom dove for an overturned phone booth. He quickly assesed the rest of the squad's location via his Tactical Assistant. It was a small screen mounted on the back of his glove that showed a a grid-like map with waypoints of other mercs. The SF troops had found ammunition and were laying it down in bulk. "Griggs, cover fire!" Tom shouted, only noticing moments before Griggs was right next to him. He sprinted across the sidewalk to the humvee alongside Matt and Alan Hobbes.
"Where did they get the ammo? I didn't look like they had any on 'em." Matt said dryly.
"New suits." Alan spoke up. "Let's show these guys who they're dealing with."
"Bum rush 'em." Tom indicated Alan in his heavy body armor.
"Alan you up for it?" Matt nudged his arm, but got no response. "Alan..? Oh no, no no no no no..."
A trickle of blood began absorbing through the tan balaclava Alan was wearing.
Matt's face lost all color. "Cover me." He jolted around behind the humvee, running full speed down the adjacent traffic lane. The rest of Fargo squad had obviously gotten the info and had rushed the trooper, guns blazing. Griggs and Tom were right behind him. The second trooper, who had started the firefight, was shooting in the general direction of Fargo. Matt ejected a shell from the breach, hand loading a Doorbreaching shell in it's place. "Bastard!" He racked the grip forward with a loud *SHCLK* The SF trooper turned, spraying a hail of bullets all around them. "You die!"
Matt leveled the 8 Gauge Magnum M90 at the trooper, pulling the firing stud. It was a grusome slow motion scene. The high temperature white phosphorus shot melted through the man's helmet and neck armor, blowing his head off with a sickening crack, accompanied by a spray of seared brainmatter.
"RRAAAAA!!!" He pumped the slide and fired again *FOOM* *SHKKSHNK*
"That settles it then." Tom said grimly.
"Yeah...it does..." Matt rasped for breath.
"Damnit!" Tarner kicked the body. "Now we're gonna have CCP crawlin' up our asses instead of handing us a paycheck."
"Yeah. Can't risk going back for equipment. We need to get out of here NOW."
"RV at our usual place." Griggs tapped two fingers to his brow. "Bang out."
The squads rushed to their Humvees, getting out of the vicinity as fast as possible.
"We'll have to ditch Lightning eventually..." Tom said, screeching the tires as he shifted the transmission.
It was unfortunate, TK squad had pooled several paychecks to add numerous upgrades to their humvee. Matt rode shotgun in a silent, blank stare in deep thought. Why? How? What was so important about the truck cargo that meant killing 6 highly trained mercenaries? He'd suspected CCP of immense treachery, but those were just stories, right? No, they weren't. The wave of rain hitting the windscreen startled him. Griggs leaned between the seats, putting both hands on their shoulders.
"We'll get through this. We're a squad...We're brothers."
Matt Bor was sprawled out on the comfy leather sofa in center of the main room, cleaning the interworkings of his M6 sidearm. Tom and Griggs were running through a level of an old Sci-Fi Hologame. He glanced up, noting the two were yelling triumphantly over completing a level on 'Legendary Difficulty'.
"Yeah yeah, what was your completion time?" Matt sighed, his record time of just under 17 minutes had yet to be broken.
"Wait for it, wait for it..." The two clutched their rifles anxiously. "...NOOOO!!! BY THREE SECONDS!!!"
Matt laughed as the two dropped to the floor in disappointment. "Slackers!"
"You know Matt, if you're not careful you'll clean the finish off that handgun of yours." Tom walked over to the couch, kicking Matt's leg down off the cushion so he could sit down. "Move over." Griggs sat beside him, flipping the channel to an exotic vehicle show. "Next paycheck, that's mine."
"Yeah alright, change the subject..." Matt re-focused his attention on the partly dismantled gun in his lap.
"That automobile company has been around for 500 years, Tom. Just think, all you're paying for is inflation."
"Yeah well...I can dream can't I?"
"I suppose you have the right to." Matt reattached the slide to the frame of his M6, holstering it for the time being. He walked around the sparsely decorated great room of the apartment, deciding he needed a cup of coffee. Rain always did that, he didn't know why. He peered out the large window that made up the wall of the main living room and kitchen, observing as the wall of rain swept upon the glass. Life as a Merc wasn't so bad, despite working for an increasingly treacherous and corrupt company. It had it's perks, though. Something he wasn't ready to give up just yet.
2 hours later
The 3 man squad of Mercs were suited and ready for deployment. They had been given a special assignment, yet knew nothing about it, all they could do was guess.
"Ey Griggs, what do you think they'll have us do this time? Damn tedious work they say...have to bring in the best...I'm sure they tell that to everyone."
"Yeah, but Matt, we are the best." Tom said in his 'as-a-matter-of-fact' tone.
"No shit dirtbag, I didn't know that..." Matt tossed Tom a belt of grenades. "...you think this will be big? I mean, really worth our time? I'm sick of those stupid druggies walking up asking for a handout."
"I heard FG squad got the same briefing time as us..."
"Aww Griggs...those guys? Stuck up jerks if you ask me..." Matt loaded the mag into his M6, locking the slide closed with a very satisfying *SHHHCLLKK* "...might as well be the 'Fat Guys' squad if you ask me."
Griggs and Tom chuckled, shoving Mags into vest pouches.
"Let me know when we get the call..." Matt walked out of the kitchen and sat in one of those 'ergonomic' plastic chairs out on the balcony, clutching a large thermos of coffee. They weren't very comfortable in his opinion, but they came with the apartment. Besides, in all his gear, it didn't matter anyway, no need in breaking a good habit. He did this every night, drinking a large cup of coffee. It was almost a sense of longing for something else that drove him. Matt watched in silence as the rain danced on the buildings laden with lights and advertisements. It was a testament to how corrupt the city really was, how controlled people's lives were.
...I make my own future...
Name: Matt Bor
Occupation: CCP Inc. Mercenary
Appearance: 6', bleached long white hair, brown eyes, gunslinger style moustache.
(Bottom guy, just like Sev's)
Misriah Armory M6-G Pistol (12.7x40mm SAPHE)
WST Manufacturing M90 CAWS (0000 Buck 8 Gauge Magnum)
History: Matt was originally from a small town in North Carolina, but moved to Illinois when his father stepped up and took over his uncle's custom rifle manufacturing company. After he finished school, Matt attended many private security (Military Grade) training courses and classes, where he met his best friend, Thomas Holston. He is now employed alongside Tom in the CCP Mercenary Corps.
Personality: Mostly irritable, sometimes the smallest things set him off. He then tries to make better of the situation (whether his fault of not) with sarcasm/jokes. Matt isn't afraid to voice his opinion.
Solus smirked, crossing his arms. "Take good care of my ordinance. You break it, I break your neck." He directed the comment to the two rookies pushing the repulsor cart. He noticed the woman, Ashaan, was really taking a liking to the Verpine. "You like my Verp eh? Very nice, that one. During the war I shot a Jabiimi Terrorist with it from twenty-six hundred meters."
"An impressive feat." She lowered the Verp, looking at his scarred face. "Clone Wars Vet?"
"Yes. It was a shabla waste of good soldiers...good men." Solus let out a painful breath. "A politician's war."
"I hear ya." Ash carefully placed the Verpine back into it's padded case.
"But that was before your time..." He placed the helmet carefully back atop his head. "You're a good officer, Ashaan Ophuchi. Even if your mouth is as bad as mine." Solus raised two fingers to the browline on his buy'ce in a casual salute, smiling behind the dark T-visor. "See you around."
Ashaan stiffled a grin. "Go on Mando, do your worst." She meant it.
Solus walked out of the landing area, through customs. It was always an annoyance, the searched you very thoroughly. After 45 minutes, he finally made it out. Minus one power pack he hadn't removed from a belt pouch. After he left the spaceport, Solus opened a comm channel to the Aldera branch of Sruus Real Estate Properties, Inc.
"Vlezar Petrevek here, I have an appointment to speak...yes...I will be there in 20 minutes." He shut the link, making sure no one was following him. "Easy as Uj."
Just gonna throw this out there, am I the only one who thinks the 'Location' should be above whatever the user has in there? I'm not badmouthing in any way, just asking if it would look better.
Oh, and Aaron, you are awesome.
*claps at Admin's evil geniusness*
...WHAT...How did I miss this...that is EPIC.
I'll post as soon as Si gets done... Much more evil planning to do.
Bralov dropped smoothly from a cloud cover in the upper atmosphere, Solus gazed out the viewport at the landscape. He was surprised, no- amazed at how beautifully the mountains merged with the grassy area around Aldera. The sunlight reflected softly off the smooth golden towers that arose above the cliffside, creating an awe-inspiring picture.
"Doubtful that will last forever." Solus sighed, walking back the the armory to be sure it was unlocked for inspection. The ship auto-piloted itself into the Docking Bay, while Solus noted the 2 squads of ASF stationed around the perimeter of the structure.
...perhaps I shouldn't have let on to the fact I was Mandalorian...
He lowered the boarding ramp, exiting to find only one officer awaiting him. Solus removed his helmet, revealing an aged, battle hardened face. He tucked the buy'ce under his arm and half smiled, extending a gloved hand to the young woman dressed in an ASF security uniform. She cocked her head to the side slightly, obviously not expecting that. The woman didn't take it, only replying with a stiff remark.
"You here to cause trouble, Mando? If you are, you can get your armored shebs right back on that fancy shabla yacht of yours and leave."
Solus was taken aback by the comment, the expression on his face was sheer astonishment, almost to the point of being injured. He fumbled for the correct words. "...excuse me?"
Solus sat comfortably in the pilot seat of Bralov, his heavily customized Eddicus-Class Planetary Shuttle entering the Alderaan System. It was a luxurious star yacht, sporting many overpriced accents and rare wood furnishings. He had acquired the ship from an ex-senator who had been supporting and funding known rebel organizations against the Empire.
Solus had nothing against the rebels personally, they were just another contract. Afterward he vowed never to take another Imperial contract after Kal Skirata had given him information regarding the Empire's dealings with clone troops. He would never forgive the Empire for keeping their slave army. One squad in particular, Tebec Squad. His Boys.
This current contract was a refreshing vacation from the Personal Security jobs he usually accepted- It was going to be a challenge.
Name: Solus Auurin
Species: Human Mandalorian
Occupation: Bounty Hunter / Assassin / Mercenary for Hire
Appearance: '6, athletic build, short pepered brown hair.
Armor: Rust Brown Mandalorian Beskar Armor on tan vest, Brown jumpsuit, khaki/brown cape/poncho, ammo belt and pouches.
Weapons: ArmSpec M22LR-SB Pistol, ArmaCor 50BA-S Tactical Rifle
Personality: Normally calm and to the point, tends to avoid unnecessary friendships/temporary partnerships, some consider him a smooth talker, but he thinks quite the opposite. He also has a tendency to spend credits.
Solus was walking back and forth moving weapons and gear to the secure hold in Bralov, when his helmet-to-ship link prompted him to return to the pilot's chair. He walked back to the controls, opening a comm channel.
"Incoming star cruiser, Bralov, Please transmit you transponder ID and state your business."
"Transmitting." Solus stepped into the holoprojector's range. "I'm here to purchase residential property."
"...A Mando...?!...We know your type...Bay 3...sending coordinates."
"What do you mean, my type?"
"When you land, ASF will inspect your transport for weapons. If any are found, they will be placed in custody until you stay is complete."
Solus shut the link without saying anything else. "If any are found...you little shabuir."
He punched in the coordinates and leaned back in the plush upholstered leather chair in full Beskar, propping his boots up on the console.
"If you think you know Mandos..."
Fara gestured to the 1911 in Gez's grasp, he merely shrugged.
"Vigilante causing trouble, just had it out for re-assurance." He winked. "How did you end up here anyway?"
"Well, I-" Fara was cut off by a minor explosion behind them.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I think we might want to get moving...as opposed to standing around chatting." Michael hinted.
"Oya, let's hunt."
The group began walking. Fara attempted to start a conversation with Cale, Michael dropped back a bit to walk beside Gez, whom he noticed was watching Fara intentively.
"Bow chicka wow wow." Michel whispered, nudging Gez with his elbow.
Gez sighed before hitting Shaw in the arm. "You really haven't changed, not a bit."
That's for the file download, you need a program that has Spreadsheet format, or use OpenOffice to run it.
Here's the link to the page where I got that from:
Hope that helps.
CDs and cash, and a new gun. Sweet.
Ah, nice, what kind you get? (gun)
Orlando, FL area here. The absence of ice is nice this time of year...although it did get down to a bone-chilling
49 Degrees Fahrenheit.
...they made their pizza crust with yellow cake uranium, and with that the threat of nuclear anhiliation was so high the US Government stepped in to...
Message Boards - Boba Fett Fan Club Posts by Lord Revan
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