War Pigs: Origins

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Vince Makins dropped the folder in Captain Brock Tailor's lap. "Your mission is simple. Read the files. Assemble your men. Do what you do best." Captain Tailor glanced at the folder, then fixed his eyes on Vince.

"This better be good, Makins." Brock warned Vince as he picked up the folder and flipped to the first page. the word 'Classified' was plastered just about everywhere he looked.

"Good or not, it's your job. I know you can get it done, Tailor." Brock sighed heavily and lit a cigarette. After reading the first paragraph he knew the assignment would push him and his team to the limits.

"We're good, Vince, but we ain't invincible."

"Ultimately, you and your men are all expendable. You must know that. I mean, why else recruit from the prison herd? The War Pigs program is all about meat. Recycled meat." Brock's eyebrow perked and he shifted in his chair.

"Well then, recycled meat is about to take out your trash."

War Pigs, Discussion – http://us.battle.net/sc2/en/forum/topic/9973137692?page=1#1

War Pigs: Origins, II – http://us.battle.net/sc2/en/forum/topic/10311551537?page=1#1
War Pigs: Origins, III – http://us.battle.net/sc2/en/forum/topic/11580768290#1
War Pigs: Freelancers, I – http://us.battle.net/sc2/en/forum/topic/17999424998
Name: Alison Chau
Age: mid 20s
Primary Weapon of Choice: Gauss rifle with incendiary ammo / Flamethrower
Secondary Weapon of Choice: 20mm heavy pistol / 12 in combat blade
Defining Characteristics: buzz-cut, flint-like gray eyes, angular face, 5' 8"
Backstory/Dossier: Alison grew up in one of the nastiest slums on Tarsonis and survived innumerable gang fights. Recently volunteered to join the confederate military, only to commit over a dozen accounts of arson. In court, she requested to serve her sentence by joining the War Pigs.
Notes: Surprisingly self-controlled and emotionless for a hardcore pyromaniac. Highly skilled with explosives and turning anything into burned-out shell.

Name: Political Officer Jones Commervac
Age: 45
Primary Weapon of Choice: Reports to superiors
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Camera
Defining Characteristics: Tall, dark hair and respectable beard, cold eyes, small circle glasses. Loyalist to the confederacy. paranoid. Smart, undermining.
Backstory: Political agent working for the Confederacy. Been on many assignments to ensure the Confederacy's interests are being met, and to file out accurate reports of going-ons and performance.

Name: Rob Alwin
Age: 24
Primary Weapon of Choice: C-14 Gauss Rifle
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Trusty Magnum, similar to Jim Raynor's, that he pulls out in a pinch.
Remote controlled mine with a propeller allowing it to fly, designed by Rob.

Defining Characteristics: Rob stands at a medium height and build, with brown eyes and crew cut black hair. He wears a somewhat lighter version of Marine armor, preferring a little extra mobility but still able to take quite a few hits. In other words, his armor looks pretty much like that of a traditional War Pig.

While originally an easy-going happy person, Rob's years in prison have made him rough and hostile, though not to his comrades.

Backstory: (Full Backstory on Post #9 in Discussion Thread)

Name: Timothy “Timmy” Faerton
Age: 30
Primary Weapon of Choice: Sniper Rifle
Secondary Weapon of Choice: SMG
Defining Characteristics: 5‘9, Medium Build, dark brown eyes, short black hair, long scraggy beard.
Backstory: Was found distributing anti-Confederate propaganda, sentenced to death for treason, but he retracted all he wrote, and the Confederacy decided to “reward” him by sending him here instead.

Name: Reggie Harvard.
Age: 28
Primary Weapon: Gauss Rifle
Secondary weapon: High explosive charges.
Defining Characteristics: Stands 5'11". Brown hair grey eyes slightly tanned skin. Has some muscular build but looks more wiry. Scar across left check from shrapnel from a bomb that went off to soon. Missing pinky finger on left hand and ring finger on the right, also from explosions. Has standard CMC 300 armor but prefers his vulture bike when on missions.
Backstory: (Full Backstory on Post #31 in Discussion Thread)

Name: Bianca "Fallen(sometimes 'Falling') Angel" Tyr
Age: 30
Primary Weapon of Choice: Bosun FN-92 Sniper Rifle
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Combat knife, Fists, Slugthrower
Defining Characteristics: 5'8" tall, shoulder length auburn hair that is graying slightly, a scar along her left cheek as well as one trailing her spine an inch deeper and she would have died both are from flak used during the Guild wars. She also uses the old CMC-230 Powered Combat Armor that hasn't really seen use since the Guild Wars
Backstory: She was once in the same unit as the Heavens Devils before they became the Heavens Devils. She was a part of their first mission where they dropped on the Kel-Morian internment camp. After ward she was stuck in the hospital for a while and after that got in a fight with a higher ranked officer and sent to jail. Now she has been offered to join the War Pigs and she readily accepted so long as she could have her old CMC-230 armor.

Name: Hank Herald
Age: 43
Primary Weapon of Choice: BOSUN FN92 Sniper Rifle
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Twin modified Slugthrower pistols (Fires heavier rounds for better armor penetration)/ Kukri Knife

Defining Characteristics: Stands 6' even. Dirty blonde hair, electric green eyes with tanned skin. Lithe, muscular build. Scar across his right eye from a knife fight with a Kel-Morian during the Guild Wars. Wears the CMC-300 combat suit nearly all the time, except when sleeping and doing normal hygiene.

Backstory: Hank was a marine in the 33rd Ground Assault Division-Dominion Section during the Guild Wars, fighting in key battles like the Battle of Noranda Glacier on Onuru Sigma, the battle of South Kreen Mines, and many others. It was after one battle, in which many Kel-Morian soldiers were captured. When the Lieutenant was asked what was to be done with them, he ordered they be executed. This didn't sit well with Hank, so he approached the Lieutenant to confront him about it. After a few words, a fist fight broke out, in which Hank broke the Lieutenant's jaw and right hand. Now understand the lieutenant wasn't a small man, but he wasn't a front lines officer, like many others. He preferred his office or forward observation platform to the front lines. His fellow marines applauded him, but they were cut short by the MPs arriving and leading Hank away in handcuffs. War was war, didn't matter why you struck a superior officer, just that you did. He was sentenced to life in prison. A few years after his imprisonment, the War Pigs offered him a chance at freedom, and he took it without a second thought.

Name: Cedric des Kincarron.
Age: 37
Primary Weapon of Choice: C-14 Impaler Gauss Rifle.
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Knife.
Defining Characteristics: Very refined - handsome in a "highborn" sort of way... the near perfect shape of his face marred by a wideness of the eyes that suggests inbreeding. He is an albino, but due to an interesting series of events, he wound up undergoing serious alteration. He is now tan skinned and blond, but retains his pinkish eyes. He seems nice enough, but when he's distracted a sort sneer at the world in general creeps onto his face. He has a dramatic flair and a love for expensive food and wine.
Backstory: (Full Backstory on Post #48 in the Discussion Thread)

Name:Darrell Kellis
Age: 39
Primary Weapon of Choice:Submachine Gun, allowing for quick movement
Secondary Weapon of Choice: Needle Gun
Defining Characteristics: Deep green irises with a ring of brown on the edges. A scar extending across the palm of his hand from a knife fight, an olive skin tone due to Arab ancestry. Not too bulky, but still a well-exercised bit of muscle.

Backstory: Darrell came from a poor family living in the slums of Tarsonis. He had made his money from underground fights with knives and fists, something his family greatly disapproved of, his father even going so far as to refuse to take anything that Darrell offered him. Even when Darrell's old man was dying, he would accept money for medicine. After the death Darrell became harsher, and even turned to alcohol. If I had just decided to make an honest living he would think. Eventually, the man snapped. He walked out in public, a slaughtered a group of people in a store, including the clerk. Landing him in prison, with a life sentence hanging over him, only thing saving him from capital punishment being his pleading of guilt.

Other: He brings nimbleness, something that allowed him to survive through the countless underground fights. Although never learning how to wield a gun, he will at first be very incapable, but he is a quick learner, allowing him to eventually become useful with his weapons.
Three Hours Later...

The War Pigs glided through space in the Silico at Natalie Ross' hands. The Silico was a Wanderer-class starship completed with warp capabilities and full armaments. She was an old Wanderer-Class ship from the beginning of the Guild Wars, but she got the job done. Natalie always loved the ship. It's ability to land planet side and in hangers made it ideal for the War Pigs.

She sighed when she looked at the empty co-pilots seat. She always liked having a co-pilot, mostly for company. She wasn't too ecstatic about the company of a War Pig, but still, company was company. Although Natalie wasn't a full fledged criminal, persey, she definitely had baggage. She had been with Captain Brock Tailor for years now and had gotten used to working with criminals, but the idea still never sat well in her stomach.

Captain Brock Tailor was in the living quarters with the other War Pigs. He was briefing them on the mission to come. She had already read the mission description with worried eyes. It was unbelievable what kind of missions the War Pigs had to endure. This was definitely the worst yet. Natalie wasn't sure they could pull it off, but if anyone could do it, Captain Brock Tailor could. She believed in him, like she had when she first met him two years ago. She just hoped he wouldn't push the War Pigs too hard.


Captain Brock Tailor joined the rest of the crew in the lounge. Silence fell. He heaved a deep breath and plopped on the couch.

"Alright boys, this one's tough." Brock sucked smoke through his cigarette bud, then flicked it on the ground. Something that made Natalie crazy, but he did it anyways.

"This mission is off the records." He eyed each warpig before continuing, "We're headed to the Victonus, a Behemoth-class battlecruiser patrolling Confederate space. At least, that's the official story. I've been informed the Battlecruiser is much more than a simple warship. The ship has several divisions of laboratories tasked to study Xenomorphs."

Brock paused to let it sink in.

"That's right... Aliens. Supposedly they had live a live test subject. They were the leading research team investigating the recent discovery."

Another pause.

"The subject escaped. Don't know how, but it doesn't matter. The ship went dark a few days ago. We've been tasked to infiltrate the ship and recover all data regarding the research, then run the ship into the ground on the nearby moon. We've also been pointedly ordered not to rescue anybody."
Alison arched an eyebrow, casually playing with a lighter;
"Does that mean we're putting a bullet into anything that isn't us?"
Captain Brock thought of a way he could sugar coat it. He realized it was a waste of time and decided to answer plainly.

"Yeah, pretty much."
I look up at the captain and sigh. "Oh bloody 'ell. More classified experiments that need cleaned up. For all we know the ship's crew went rogue."
I pull out a cigarillo out of a tin container and a lighter lighting it. I take a draw before I continue.
"And like crashing the bloody thing will ensure everything board is destroyed." I scoff loudly. "Lemme guess, some general with a bur up is !@#$ thinking that he knows best come up with that? Bugger probably has some poor sod feeding him so the general can 'think of tactical plans'. I say we blow the freggin' thing up."
I take another draw on the cigarillo.
"But then again what do I know about makin' sure things ain't working no more. I just a terrorist that was a miner/demolitionist before that. No way I know anything about those types of things." I say very sarcastically.
"Sounds fun ... so kill anything that isn't us and grab some data ... should set the ships reactor to go critical before we put it on a crash course and leave very fast."
"That could be an option." Brock replied to Bianca's comment.

"I'm not looking forward to spending one more second on that ship than I have to. We destroy it in whatever way we see fit. Disabling the engine core, or simply turning off the engines, will let the ship fall from orbit. That's why it was suggested to us."

Stomping on his cigarette bud, he thought of another important detail.

"Plus it can be framed as an accident."
“Sounds fun....and the people back home called me crazy, hehe. I guess they’ll see how wrong they were when they’re the ones getting their ship thrown into a damn moon.”
As a War Pig mercenary, dangerous missions with little intel was nothing new to Rob... But...

"So they don't want the alien alive?"

It's just... strange. A live test subject of an alien species isn't exactly common. Just the subject itself is probably worth more than this ship. So why would they want a bunch of mercs to run in and just shoot the thing? Exactly how dangerous was it?

Rob shook his head. It was better to not think of such things.
I look over at Rob.
"Are ya deaf. He just said this isn't a rescue mission, it is recover the data then cover up the research."
I sigh turning back around slouching in my seat taking a few more puffs of the cigarillo. "Bloody hell does anyone here have at least have a mind of their own." I mutter to myself.
Alison gives the man next to her a look;
"I'd be careful where you say that.. people who promote open-mindedness in this piss-poor excuse of a confederacy don't tend to last long. No offense, sir."
she adds as an afterthought with a nod to the captain.

I take a look at Alison, “Amen to that. How do you think I got here? It’s fine, though, you don’t need to pretend, you’re already dead.”
Rob sighs at the argument that's already broken out. Such was the life of a War Pig.

"It was nothing guys. Only getting some clarification."
@SneakMind: The War Pigs aren't mercenaries yet :P


"Any more real questions before we dock?" The Captain asks.
I'll assume it safe for me to post now.

IC: I take a long drag on my cigar, blowing the smoke and dropping it to the ground, stomping it out and sliding the bolt forward on my FN92. "We making the usual bets?" My visor was up for the moment and the scar over my right eye really stood out. It was a miracle I was still alive after some of the missions I'd been on, but then, I'd never been an easy one to kill. Just ask the Kel-Morians.
Alison nods, pocketing her lighter;
"As a matter of fact, I do. Survivors, are we shooting on sight or keeping them alive until an opportune moment? The way I see it, if we shoot on sight we don't have to worry about them later, however doing so will turn any other survivors that find out against us. Also, killing them could rob us of any insight on whatever the hell they were studying. On the other hand, keeping them around could provide us with some extra hands, but we'd still have to deal with them eventually."
Ahh sorry, this lore stuff is killing me. I barely know the story of pre-sc1...
I glance over at Alison, loading a clip into my rifle and checking the scope. "I think it's been clarified that we're killing on sight."
OOC: War was your character's comment was directed to Dacder's yes?

I look over at Hank. "Like I'd make a wager with you. You must think me a fool."

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