OPEN AGAIN! - Independent Miners Guild Recruitment channel

[Jazz]

The heavy bass thumped the hull of the Starblazer as it cruised in the high atmosphere, Jakobe's head nodded slowly with the beat of the song. His practiced hands glided across the panels, pulling the little fighter higher and higher in Leeds thick, smokey atmosphere. Despite his best efforts the beaten and dated craft rumbled even more with turbulence and engine shakes than from the blasting music inside.

"Leeds, baby, this is Tre. Breakin' loose. Check clearance for lane jump to the New London gate." Jakobe purred in a silken voice like molasses. Sounding as if he had all the time in the world to say what he wanted and that he intended to use all of it.

Once he got his clearance, the craft shot into the tradelane. Grabbed by the energy web transmitters the Starblazer is thrown from one ring to the next and improbable speeds. But when one set of rings happened to be powered down inactive the fighter was tossed unceremoniously into space. Jakobe was tossed in his seat, thankful for his inertial compensator and restraints, he fought hard against the raggedy ship to pull it back under control. At that moment several alarms and sirens began to blare from the control panel alerting of hostile targets. A quick glance confirmed a full wing, six Mollys bearing down at him.

Without hesitation he punched the control panel, diverting power to bolster the shields and power the weapon capacitors, and setting his music to a near deafening height. An alarm began to blare over the music, warning of an impending missle lock and Tre slammed both the throttle and the control joint forward, wrenching the Blazer into a tight dive, just as laserfire seared through the space he had until recently occupied.

He thrustered hard and heaved back on the joint, coming up undernead the Wolfhounds, which broke formation and split in different directions. Targeting in on the far right craft Tre cut the thrusters and throttled back, peeling after the pirate and sliding smoothly in behind him. As the large ungainly Wolfhounds tried getting around to assist their comrade, Tre sighted in on his target. The Wolfhound cut back left, trying to head back towards hit's comrades, but inadvertently put itself in Tre's crosshairs. The nimble Blazer throttled down and easily tracked the Hound and pounded him with everything he had. The Vengance cannons drilled away the Hound's shields and peppered the hull before the capacitors gave out and Tre had to peel away from the vastly superior firepower of the larger ship.

Tre gunned the thrusters again, cutting around close to the lane rings to make use of his handlin advantage. Slowing, he managed to draw a bead on his target once more and opened fire, moments later the Wolfound was spinning away from the battle trailing smoke and flame. However the bold maneuver had thrown him into the line of the pirate's wingmen. Despite brutal evasive actions the haze of cannon fire blasted his shields and smashed into the hull. Inside, Tre was thrown and jostled in his seat.

But just as he was reaching for the ejector bar one of the Wolfhounds simply exploded, and the other four split and thrustered off in different directions.

It was a transport, Albatross class, and it had just fallen out of the lane nearby and its cannons were belching a storm of fire at the pirates. Two more Hounds were engulfed in flame before the last two were able to cruise into the distance, not even bothering to bring the escape pods of their comrades with them.

Tre turned down the music to a dull roar and opened a channel, "Thanks man, they had me toasted"

A gruff Irish voice popped cheerfully over the comms, "Perhaps, but you did hold your well there, mate. Join me on Leeds, maybe we can get ye some repairs and a stiff drink, eh?

--------------------

Mink Whipperwill slid into the booth across from Tre, handing him a rich dark ale and taking one for himsel. The bar was dark and the air was lightly permeated with the smell of cigarettes, a small cover band played quietly in one corner.

Sipping the brew thoughtfully Mink eyed the pilot thoughtfully. "So, Jakobe, what brings ye all the way out to Bretonia. Yer obviously not a local, hahar."

Tre smiled nonchalantly and leaned back in his chair, "Ye man, I just do a little of this and that. I got that itch, ya know?"

The older Irishman burst into uprorious laughter and downed a long swig of ale, "Havent we all! But first we are gonna need to get you back into a ship. That holey piece of scrap on the pad wont do.."

Eying his beer the dark man mumbled, "I just need a job or three for the repairs. Wont be too bad"

Mink shook his head and stroked a thick red beard, "Have ye ever thought of getting a good organization behind you? There's something to be said for having someone else foot the bills."

Tre immidiately dismissed the thought, "Nah, I got this... authority problem."

Mink leaned close as though what he were saying were some sort of secret, "Not all organizations are about authority. I wasnt always a lowly trader, I once helped reform an entire organization. Just the kind of place you may be looking for."

"Tell, me mate; ever heard of the Independant Miners Guild?"

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Primary Information:

Name: Jakobe (Tre) Dailey III
Age: 32
Citizenship: Liberty Citizen

Biography: Jakobe's family has a colorfully dull history. Being a family of dark-skinned people the Daileys are something of a rarity in the Sirius sector. He was born into a family that was comfortably middle class. A rough rebel and troublemaker, Jakobe gave his family endless trouble as a teenager. Surfing through mandatory schooling on his intuition and given knowledge. With no drive towards higher learning, Jakobe ran with all of the money his parents had planned to spend on it. He learned to fly hitching rides and working part time on trade ships, finding that he was quite skilled at piloting ships of many types.

Jakobe slowly raised money in this way. Living off the charity of others, picking up odd jobs, sleeping in cargo bays and on trade craft. He raised his money with a single-minded doggedness of owning his own ship one day. He also aquired a trademark of blasting crude bassy music while piloting, especially during fights.

By the time his dream came true, Jakobe (or Tre, as many knew him as) had been living his transient life for over a decade, and he walked into a shipdealer on Philadelphia and bought a second-hand Starblazer, with adverage shielding and dated weapons systems. Blowing his entire life's savings on the creaky, shaky craft.

There have been several people who questioned why Tre didn't get a ship the easy way, by joining the Liberty Navy, or even the LPI. Truthfully the answer is simple. The same authority issue that made him walk away from his parents a decade and a half ago, and a keen drive for adventure and exploration.



Secondary Information:

Outline the Independent Miners Guild goals: "Man, they grouped together to stand up to the pirates and badites. They aint think they're better than each other, and they work for the good of themselves. Not some corporate coinpurse."

What can you contribute while inside the Guild ? "Well, man, say I could fly a ship and shoot a gun. And decently at both. Suppose Ill be flyin' security."

Which are your personal reasons for joining the Guild ? Also, which IMG Department would you like to be part of ? "Im sick of being alone, man. Sure I can find my adventure on my own, and thats what my goal is, but It would be nice to have someone beside me lookin for the same stuff, ya-kno."



OORP Information:

Please provide your Skype ID: Im fairly sure you already have it, but it's "Thewhipperwillbrothers" sans the quotations.

How long do you play in the server? Have you ever been part of other player factions? If yes, which ones? Ive been around off and on for about four years now. And Ive been in the *deep breath* UoG, TBH, LSF, LPI, SA, XA, KSF, and IMG at different points in my Freelancer career.

Have you ever been sanctioned? If yes, please provide links to all your sanctions: Never even once *fingers crossed*

---

Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is...
He's called the Busdriver!