Gunhand4171
The Gunman
New Belfast
New Belfast, a small frozen ball out on the ass end of the Freebeer system. Many would claim that settling on New Belfast is an insane idea based on the fact of constant snowstorms and the high criminal population that plagues the planet. But still, many have began to flock there after the discovery that this frozen hell is rich in natural resources. Not only that, but its close proximity with the asteroid belt makes New Belfast a popular destination for those who wish to take part in this "gold rush" and for those with a not so pure intent.
Because of this, the need for Private Military Corporations (PMC) has increased dramatically. From companies looking for protection of there assets, to pirates looking for help in raiding these resources, to the Government of New Belfast seeking people to help keep the peace. New PMCs have been popping up all over the surface of New Belfast. One such PMC has just made planet fall.
IceFall: 1800 hours
The Capital of New Belfast is quite the site for newcomers. Only a few spires rise out from the ice and snow, but as the shuttle lands in the underground spaceport then they are struck with the gravity of how large it actually is. The cities are mostly underground except for the wealthier districts, where their massive spires penetrate the massive dome above the citizens heads and sores into the cold New Belfast sky. But for most of the residents of New Belfast, they very rarely see the sky above. Only those adventurous enough to risk it all feel that freedom.
Cyrus Marshal walked through the bustling streets of IceFall towards his favorite watering hole. His watering hole. The large modular buildings that lined the streets were constructed hastily as the influx of miners and guns for hire quickly began to outpace the already meager accommodations. Because of this, these "tenements" are tightly spaced and stacked on top of each other. Cyrus took note of the people he passed as he walked. The amount of 'undesirables' had increased in recent months so Cyrus walked with his two revolvers in their holsters, in plane sight. He finally arrived at his bar: The Hollow Point Pub.
He was greeted first by his bouncer who tipped his cap towards Cyrus. "Evening sir." Called the behemoth. "Evening Jackson." Cyrus stopped and turned towards the half ID-SOL man. "I have some special guests coming today. When you see them, direct them to the VIP section. Understood?" Cyrus asked. "Understood sir. Jackson replied standing a little straighter.
As Cyrus walked in, he was greeted with a cheer as his normal patrons noticed his entrance. "Finally the owner of this hole gets here." called one of the patrons. "My beer tastes like piss!"
"I am so sorry." Cyrus said dripping with sarcasm. "Hand me your mug and I will get ya a fresh one!" He said pointing to the restroom. He walked by the bar saying hello to everyone as he made his way up to the VIP section. The VIP section was well furnished, overlooking the normal part of the bar. Very few ever saw this part of the bar except for close friends, clients, and those who are willing to pay through the nose to drink up there. Today, Cyrus closed it to everyone except his special guests. He looked at the clock on the wall. "They should be arriving any minute now..." he thought as he walked up to the bar and grabbed himself a beer. He sat down at the bar and waited for his guests to arrive.
New Belfast, a small frozen ball out on the ass end of the Freebeer system. Many would claim that settling on New Belfast is an insane idea based on the fact of constant snowstorms and the high criminal population that plagues the planet. But still, many have began to flock there after the discovery that this frozen hell is rich in natural resources. Not only that, but its close proximity with the asteroid belt makes New Belfast a popular destination for those who wish to take part in this "gold rush" and for those with a not so pure intent.
Because of this, the need for Private Military Corporations (PMC) has increased dramatically. From companies looking for protection of there assets, to pirates looking for help in raiding these resources, to the Government of New Belfast seeking people to help keep the peace. New PMCs have been popping up all over the surface of New Belfast. One such PMC has just made planet fall.
IceFall: 1800 hours
The Capital of New Belfast is quite the site for newcomers. Only a few spires rise out from the ice and snow, but as the shuttle lands in the underground spaceport then they are struck with the gravity of how large it actually is. The cities are mostly underground except for the wealthier districts, where their massive spires penetrate the massive dome above the citizens heads and sores into the cold New Belfast sky. But for most of the residents of New Belfast, they very rarely see the sky above. Only those adventurous enough to risk it all feel that freedom.
Cyrus Marshal walked through the bustling streets of IceFall towards his favorite watering hole. His watering hole. The large modular buildings that lined the streets were constructed hastily as the influx of miners and guns for hire quickly began to outpace the already meager accommodations. Because of this, these "tenements" are tightly spaced and stacked on top of each other. Cyrus took note of the people he passed as he walked. The amount of 'undesirables' had increased in recent months so Cyrus walked with his two revolvers in their holsters, in plane sight. He finally arrived at his bar: The Hollow Point Pub.
He was greeted first by his bouncer who tipped his cap towards Cyrus. "Evening sir." Called the behemoth. "Evening Jackson." Cyrus stopped and turned towards the half ID-SOL man. "I have some special guests coming today. When you see them, direct them to the VIP section. Understood?" Cyrus asked. "Understood sir. Jackson replied standing a little straighter.
As Cyrus walked in, he was greeted with a cheer as his normal patrons noticed his entrance. "Finally the owner of this hole gets here." called one of the patrons. "My beer tastes like piss!"
"I am so sorry." Cyrus said dripping with sarcasm. "Hand me your mug and I will get ya a fresh one!" He said pointing to the restroom. He walked by the bar saying hello to everyone as he made his way up to the VIP section. The VIP section was well furnished, overlooking the normal part of the bar. Very few ever saw this part of the bar except for close friends, clients, and those who are willing to pay through the nose to drink up there. Today, Cyrus closed it to everyone except his special guests. He looked at the clock on the wall. "They should be arriving any minute now..." he thought as he walked up to the bar and grabbed himself a beer. He sat down at the bar and waited for his guests to arrive.
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