In the not too distant future...

The ISC Durandal rumbles to a stop in the docking facility of Kyoshi City, capital of the small colony planet Mendrigan IV. During times of war, it would have been quite a rare sight to see a menacing heavy cruiser docked in such a peaceful area. At 1700 meters in length, 525 meters in width, and 440 in height, the monstrous behemoth is a terrifying sight to an enemy of the ISC. Bristling with armaments including 50mm to 225mm rail cannons, pulse lasers, nuclear missiles, and a devastating electrolaser capable of incapacitating a shielded battleship in one hit (dubbed the "Fang Ripper" by many of the crew), the ship is a force to be reckoned with.

Despite the fact that it could likely overrun a city by itself, the Durandal is not returning from an expedition of war, but from a silly suppression mission at a mining compound in the neighboring Troika star system. The prisoners of war and criminal convicts who typically populate these facilities are usually manageable enough, but there have been several infamous rebellions and uprisings over the past year. The ISC doesn't want to make the mistake of underestimating the ragtag worker groups again. So now the deadly warship returns, ferrying thousand-strong battalions from 2 separate PMCs and dozens of freelance mercenaries. With many former ISC soldiers either retired, stationed at distant outposts, or undergoing continuous training in preparation for anything, the private sector is being increasingly called upon to take care of the mundane, trivial security matters of the ISC systems.

Yet, the Durandal's most recent voyage home had been anything but routine. ISC high command was already well aware of the unorthodox turn of events, and the Kyoshi maintenance crews had been informed to be discreet and not ask questions. The mercenaries began their descent from the boarding ramps, many of them still slightly shaken about what had occurred. At the back of the procession were several dozen pairs of men and robots carrying covered stretchers.

The Lions' Arms and Zion Alliance PMCs disembarked into separate transport vehicles at the Kyoshi center, while the ragtag groups of mercenaries remained gathered at the center. One small cluster of freelancers were gathered around a table, chatting and making small talk over what had just occurred...

"And you know what the worst part about the whole thing is?" Jet went on. "Even though we went through all that bull♥♥♥♥ on the return, we still got the same pay as any standard escort!" "To be fair," John interjected, "We're pretty overpayed for 'standard escorts' as it is. That was more of an escort than I've ever done before. Usually, it's really rare if we get to fire a single shot off." "What I don't get," Aicaya commented, "Is how we encountered an unknown civilization in between two ISC star systems. I mean, they popped in from nowhere. What the hell?" Most of the group nodded in agreement, but Michael cut in, "Well, it's not like we really monitor every inch of ISC space. The ISC mainly cares about the populated systems. Still, you'd think those ships would have shown up on deep space scanners." "Although useful for picking up large ship movements or tracking known vessels, deep space scanners are programmed to respond to sets of known detection data." D-EYE5 supplied. "Unknown vessels and vessels with designs significantly different from conventional ship designs are registered as minor anomalies at best."

There are perhaps 30 people total in the room, an open, circular enclosure about the size of a conference room, with large floor-to-ceiling windows covering most of the outer edge. The atmosphere is rather relaxed and laid back. A lush blue carpet covers the floorspace, and soft couches and sofas are spread around coffee tables and televisions throughout the room. Many of the other mercenaries that haven't left yet are busy watching My Little Pony on the biggest TV in the place; some are drinking at a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Well, that's cool and all," Ulysses responded, "But right now I could care less about what just happened and more about what I'm going to do now." "Well, I don't have anything planned." "Nor do I." "Me either." "It would appear that we're all currently searching employment. Perhaps we could ask some of the other soldiers here what they're planning on doing?", D suggested. "Not a bad idea."

As the group quiets down, they collectively listen to a conversation taking place not too far away at the corner bar. "So uh, where do we go from here, exactly?" The voice belongs to a nearby mercenary, a tall, gaunt man, talking to his rather husky companion. "Dunno, man. I can't think of anything to do in Kyoshi... Durandal's probably gonna be grounded while the ISC freaks out over this whole encounter. I guess we could try getting to another system, look for work there." "From the ISC again? I'm getting tired of being a replacement soldier. Most of the time we go on those bull♥♥♥♥ guard details and suppressive missions where we don't do anything. We barely get to fire a shot every now and then. And then, and then, when something exciting actually happens, it spawns all of this panic and ♥♥♥♥." He stops talking to down another shot of spirit. "Tch. I know what you mean though, man. I guess we could go down to the terminal, see if they have any cheap flights to nearby major systems. Maybe we could just check out private commissions here." "If you boys are looking for work, I've actually got a private endeavor to take care of that I could use some help with." A third man- burly with a drawling voice- breaks in. "Raiding an abandoned weapons research facility on Mendrigan II. ISC hasn't touched the place in over a decade, so who knows what's crawling around? Native predators are probably back on the prowl, maybe there's some pirates and bandits there, but I've heard from a reliable source that there's a lot of raw material there that sells real nice. Probably a few ammo dumps, too. Maybe some experimental stuff laying around. Interested?" The two men- and the group sitting close by- are all ears. "Hell, yeah, I'm interested. You got transport?" "Yup. Private little ship of mine that I left docked here when I started contracting with the ISC. Might need to get some supplies for it, but she's fast and could hold, oh, probably 15 people, easy. Weapons, shields, a lot of scanning equipment- I used to do this kind of work more often a while back, so I'm pretty much all set-up for it."

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Game Events
Everyone but Ulysses is now with Jackson, so they introduce themselves to the two soldiers he'd originally been talking to. The tall, gaunt man, roughly 6'2" with olive skin and black hair and eyes, says, "Nice to meet you all. I'm Dmitri." His husky companion- maybe 5'10", but heavily built, with white skin, short brown hair, and blue eyes- says, "Yo, I'm Trent."

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