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> Equinox, Corporate headquarters of Crayven Securities, Incorporated
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General Harold Saxon
post Apr 15 2006, 01:25 PM
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Crayven Securities, Inc. | Tactical Division
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The 'Equinox' compound, corporate headquarters of Crayven Securities, Incorporated, located in the industrial sector of Gellen's Heights, Sheratan, overlooking the Gellen River.



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Position : General, Crayven Tactical
Callsign : Templar
Current BattleMech : MC2-CS-A Mad Cat-II (Prototype) [Assault]
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General Harold Saxon
post Apr 15 2006, 01:48 PM
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Crayven Securities, Inc. | Tactical Division
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Crayven Securities Compound 'Equinox'
City of Gellen's Heights - Western Sector - Sheratan

__________________________________________________________________________

Like a phoenix from the ashes, the Crayven compound began to take recognizable form in the midst of Sheratan's corporate center, ominously emerging from the mist like a monolithic avatar as the chopper drew near. Featuring a near-identical design to the former Ney Vesta installation, the familiar lines of the compound were already beginning to take shape early on in the construction process. The distinctive shape of the Atrium Building had been resurrected, its trademark, angular form already well-defined beneath the scaffolding enveloping it. The flanking twin fourteen-story administrative offices had been completed, linked together by the signature wedge shape of Crayven Financial.

Behind the complexes, a massive, rectangular ferrosteel skeleton rose into the sky, marking the beginning phases of the gargantuan, forty-story-tall skyscraper that would house the tactical, intelligence, and R & D sections. The compound's western wall had also begun to rise, the striking sandstone arch which graced the sole access point into the grounds fully recreated with striking detail. Even from our current altitude, I could make out the intricate engravings that had been etched with painstaking attention into its rocky face.


"Absolutely marvelous..."

Doctor Schultz's head snapped toward me. With more than a small amount of chagrin, I realized that I had been thinking out loud.

"Don't you mean 'absolutely perverse,' General? While I appreciate the need for a base of operations, the fact that it's been intentionally designed to look like Valhalla is...morbid...to say the least."

I scowled at Schultz.

"Valhalla's design was the byproduct of nearly five years' worth of architectural planning and represented a design best-suited for the company's objectives. Neither General Maxwell nor I were going to throw all of that out for the sake of memorializing the dead."

The former doctor shook her head.

"You're all twisted."

The chopper circled the massive complex in a wide, counter-clockwise loop, its pilot affording me a stunning aerial view of the grounds. The Commerce Boulevard entrance had already been completed, with the requisite automated Calliope and, as a new addition, LRM turrets, protecting the narrow avenue leading into the compound. As we crossed over Fleet Street, the grounds for the myriad laboratories, industrial facilities, BattleMech manufacturing plants and DropShip servicing yards came into view. Encompassing over six city blocks, this would once again serve as the heart of the Crayven Corporation's R&D operations - no longer would our technicians be forced to work out of the bowels of a DropShip on one simplistic project at a time.

The VTOL angled to the left, and swept past the Atrium Building, passing over the twenty-seventh-story palm court where a lone, grey-haired figure in a dark suit stood, savoring a cigar in the afternoon sun. Rotating on its axis, the aircraft then passed over the corporate barracks, and thundered low over the north administrative building before touching down on the rooftop helipad of the Crayven Financial tower. Immediately, ground crews rushed the helicopter as its twin-rotor engines wound down, sliding parking blocks under its wheels, attaching fuel lines, and dropping the aircraft's staircase. I rose from my seat, smoothing the wrinkles from my jacket and buttoning it closed, while simultaneously taking hold of my briefcase.


"Ms. Schultz - if you'll accompany me - General Maxwell is waiting."


--------------------
Position : General, Crayven Tactical
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Saburo Kintaru
post Apr 15 2006, 03:44 PM
Post #3



Crayven Securities, Inc. | MechWarrior
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The chopper landed gently atop of the gargantuan Equinox building complex. I stepped out onto the hardened tarmac of the helipad and took a moment to take in everything. Equinox overlooked the glistening Gellen River, which sparkled delicately in the twilight sun. The grey building complex took on a tanned orange colour as the sun slipped behind the blanket of night as it continued to set. The fat, red dot squatted on the horizon and sat there for a moment, allowing me to truly take in the sights. Even though I wasn’t one to give out criticism of a descriptive nature, Equinox was a beauty to behold; a power glutton of might and strength that seemed to echo Charles Maxwell’s vision and persona. Without a doubt, Charles gave off an assertion of power that only a few men around the Inner Sphere could afford.

“Or perhaps he is compensating for something…?” I half chuckled, gazing at the red hot sun as it sunk beneath the cool horizon.

"Ms. Schultz - if you'll accompany me - General Maxwell is waiting." I just managed to hear as the chopper’s engines wound down slower and slower. A quick glance showed Dr Schultz, the psychologist who had “examined” me, walking in close quarters with two armed guards. Close behind her was an official looking gentleman I had seen once or twice around the DOA. His demeanour was slick and sharp, which was in complete contrast to his personality. From what I could gather, in the very few instances that I had met him, he was a very silent, very calm person who could show next to no emotions.
How I envied him.
Schultz gave me a quick, cold, wide eyed stare. If looks could have killed, I would have died on the spot. I smirked to myself before responding with:

“Ms Schultz, a pleasure to see you again.” to which she remained silent, keeping that same ice cold stare.

“Mr Kintaru?” said the official figure.

“Speak.”

“I am General Caswell. It’s a pleasure to finally meet one of Charles’ products on a one to one basis…” he replied, extending his hand.

“’Product’?!” I scowled, swatting away his hand. I lurched forward, grabbing him by the collar of his beige colour suit. His service medals clattered together as I latched on, drawing him close to my face.

“Listen VERY carefully you pencil pushing shit kicker, because I don’t like to repeat myself! I am NOT a mere product. YOU have just made my SHIT list and if you should even look at me in a manner that displeases me, there will be HELL to pay. DO you get me?!” I roared, ignoring the sounds of laser rifles being brought to life at the flick of a safety switch. The guards next to Lisa, though remaining close contact to her, had raised their rifles at me, engaging the laser sighters and taking a dead aim at me. But I didn’t care. I kept my eyes locked on the emotionally stunted General, who looked back at me with a bleak expression.

“Dually noted.” he said, grabbing my arms and gently taking them off his throat.

“Now, if you would like to follow me, General Maxwell would like you to attend a meeting. It regards several matters that include yourself…” he continued, straightening out his jacket and signalling the guards to lower their weapons.

“I suggest you come along, it is rather important.”

“Humph! Very well.” I replied, much to the aggravation of Dr Schultz.

And with that, we set off down the small set of steps and into the maze-like complex that was Equinox.


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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Apr 16 2006, 01:56 AM
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AEGIS DIVISION | Commander
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The massive orange sun dipped below the horizon, painting the landscape in a purple twilight that slowly gave way to a gentle blue, accentuated by Sheratan's eternally-full moon. A cool breeze fluttered across the Atrium Building's twenty-seventh story palm court, sending a chill down my spine as I extinguished my cigar in a nearby chrome ashern, and buttoned my jacket closed. I turned to glance at the ornate clock which hung over the angular entrance leading into the tower, and as if on queue, the art-deco doors beneath it were swung open, revealing the party of colorful characters whose arrival I had been anticipating. General Caswell moved toward me, motioning the group to stay where they were.

"General Maxwell - I do apologize for the delay. The biometrics scanner on the helipad isn't up and running at the moment - something to do with a blown relay - and as such, security had to verify our identities manually. I assure you - it was entirely outside of my control."

"Dualy noted," I quipped, already privy to the encounter the General had had with Saburo on the helipad. It had been entertaining to watch - Caswell had diffused the situation expertly. "Bring them out here - but have the guards remain behind."

Caswell's eyebrow shot up.

"General - respectfully - are you certain that's wise?"

I shook my head.

"Negative. But I don't want to antagonize anyone by displaying an excessive show of force - for a change. It's a calculated risk I am willing to take."

Caswell nodded, and gestured for the guards to send Schultz and Saburo in. As they made their way toward the table which had been set up for this very meeting, I put on my best poker face.

I was going to need it.


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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Apr 17 2006, 03:49 PM
Post #5



AEGIS DIVISION | Commander
Rank: General



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"So, Charles...have you brought us here just to show off how the other half lives...or is there some point to this meeting?"

Pigheaded as always... I mused, flashing an empty smile at Schultz before launching into my spiel.

"Lisa, to be quite frank, the only reason you're here is because I wish it. Were it up to the masses, I imagine you'd be manufacturing ferrocrete on Helios right now, wearing one of their delightful depleted-uranium tracking tags. So let's not forget our manners, shall we?"

Schultz scowled, saying nothing.

"Now then..." I began, "let's get down to business.

"When we were on Delacruz, you shared with me some rather distressing news concerning the current medical condition of my son. Specifically - that his condition is, in fact, Rissikin's Disease. I've reviewed your lab work, and found it to be - surprisingly - accurate."

Schultz looked aghast.

"Of course it's accurate, Charles! Do you honestly expect that I would falsify the test results of - "

" - given your track record, Lisa, there is very little I wouldn't put past you."

The former doctor gave me a near-lethal glare.

"But, be that as it may, it does not negate the fact that I was quite impressed with your work. Not only did you diagnose the condition, but it appeared you were in the beginning stages of some sort of gene therapy experiment to combat the disease's effects. Is that a correct assessment?"

"I'm impressed, Charles. It seems that, while I was rotting in the cargo hold, you learned to read."

"Mmm...indeed," I replied, ignoring the acerbic comment. "And how far away were you from having the project ready for deployment on a human test subject?"

Schultz narrowed her eyes.

"Why?"

"Answer the question, Schultz,"
General Caswell interjected. Lisa glanced at him, startled, before replying.

"With the limited staff and facilities aboard the Avarice...a year. Maybe more."

I nodded.

"What about the laboratories that will be, in short order, available here?"

"Assuming they were to be of the same caliber as those I had access to on Ney Vesta...the time could potentially be halved."

"Well then. I suggest you get to it."

A look of utter disbelief crossed Schultz's face.

"That's it? No 'I'm sorry,' no 'I want to make up for what I did to you,' just a slap on the ass and a 'get to it?' Just like that, and I'm back in the saddle?"

"Naturally, you will be monitored very closely - and your access to Crayven resources will be limited only to those items of critical importance to your work. Additionally - "

"- you need me! That's what this is all about - isn't it? You're bringing me back because there's no one else on the staff who understands the research - "

"- don't get so confident, Doctor. You're not as difficult to replace as you'd like to believe. Now - your cooperation is requested and required."

"And if I should refuse?"

"The alternative is not pleasent."

Schultz hesitated.

"I need time to think about it."

"You have one hour. Ryan - why don't you take Ms. Schultz down to the commissary and get her something to eat? The chicken alfredo is fantastic."

Caswell nodded, and rose from his chair, escorting Lisa into the Atrium Building. As the doors swung closed, Saburo and I were left alone on the veranda. A low clap of thunder rolled across the night sky, as a storm front moved in. I took a long breath of the cool spring air, savoring the taste and sensation of real, unfiltered oxygen.

"Saburo...how do you feel?'

The young man eyed me suspiciously. I wondered how he would respond.

This post has been edited by General Charles E. Maxwell: Apr 17 2006, 04:13 PM


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Saburo Kintaru
post Apr 18 2006, 04:33 PM
Post #6



Crayven Securities, Inc. | MechWarrior
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"Saburo...how do you feel?" The words flew out of Charles’ lips and hit me like a projectile brick. It had been along time since someone had actually asked me how I had felt. But I knew exactly how to respond to the question.

“Charles, I haven’t felt a thing in years…” I replied watching Charles’ emotionless expression. His thoughts were far away in other things and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“But you shouldn’t be asking me that question…” I paused, making myself comfortable as I lent against the wall. I fixed my eyes on Charles’.

“How are YOU feeling?” Charles was startled. So was I. We both stood looking at each other. I watched Charles struggle and stumble over what to say back to the tyrant that had asked him such a personal question. Charles looked back at me, as if unsure whether he was talking to a human being or a demon. And that was exactly how the scenario played out. It were as if the Devil had taken pity on one of God’s disciples and had taken the time to ask how he really felt.
Charles never answered my question. He didn’t need to. He was a man who had the possibility of facing his own son’s death. It all depended on one woman. I could tell that a hour’s wait would be a long, slow agonising passing for Charles.

For a bizarre moment, I wondered if my own father agonised over my well being when I was torn out of the village. I’m sure he did. In some ways, I supposed myself lucky. Only fragments of my past memory existed in my mind. I was lucky to remember very little of him.

We remained silent for a moment longer. The silence grew loud until it was almost deafening.

"Saburo - I stopped living years ago. What you see now is a ghost...a soul trapped in a purgatory of greed, lies, and deceit." Charles eventually said, echoing my earlier comments. I dug my hands into my leather coat’s pockets and let out a long sigh.

“We’re not so different you and I.” I said, signalling a crack of thunder as small drops of rain began to fall from the sky above us.

“Do you know what makes us similar?”

“Do tell.”

“We’re both dead on the inside.” Charles nodded in agreement.

“We're the walking dead - damned to spend eternity performing in the twisted sideshow of existence.” he said, bringing a chilling, yet familiar, sense of realisation. The rain thundered down and began to rattle against the windows intensely. We both should have moved inside, but we didn’t.

“Ben isn’t a particularly close friend Charles - but I will say this. I don’t wish any harm on him. I… wish you luck finding a cure for his condition.” I said, granting an appreciative nod from my ‘dance partner‘.

And silence crept in again. The torrents of falling rain fell over Gellen’s Heights. The Gellen river sparkled violently in the limited light the storm produced. Downtown Gellen seemed to come alive, as the people who walked it’s streets rushed to find shelter. The streets themselves took on life as rain smashed and bounced off the tarmac. Dead leaves that cluttered the sidewalk and gutter suddenly became mighty boats that sailed dangerous voyages. The voyages ultimately led to the bottom of a stinking, shit infested sewer.
All the while, Charles and I, two dead figures, stood and watched Gellen take on it’s lively, watery form.


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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Apr 26 2006, 10:57 PM
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AEGIS DIVISION | Commander
Rank: General



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I sat in the darkened confines of my temporary office on the top floor of the Crayven Financial building. As the Atrium Tower had yet to be completed, the project managers responsible for the Equinox project had ensured that the Financial division chief's office space had been assigned to me, relocating the corporate bean-counter who normally occupied the space to a corner office several stories down. Across from me, staring at the obsidian desk separating us, sat Lisa Schultz, looking slightly more nourished, and a fair sight more presentable than she had an hour prior.

"Feeling better, Doctor Schultz?"

Schultz looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot with fatigue.

"I think you're being a bit premature with the 'doctor' title, Charles. I haven't said 'yes,' yet."

"A simple formality."

Schultz smirked, and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and propping her chin up on the palm of her hand.

"You need me, Charles. I don't need you. That puts me in a superb negotiating position."

I nodded.

"Indeed," I murmered, folding my hands on the desk and leaning forward. The Arturo Fuente cigar normally balanced with a practiced flair in my right hand was conspicuously absent. I had run through the four I normally carried in my pocket humidor, and hadn't had time to return to the Dreams of Avarice to get more. It was pissing me off.

"'Indeed?' That's it? You're not even going to ask what my terms are?"

"Lisa," I sighed, plucking my glasses from my face and rubbing my eyes, "forgive me, but I frankly don't give a damn what your demands are. I've already presented you with your options. You need to pick one. Quickly."

Schultz looked flabbergasted.

"Charles...I really don't know what to say. I thought you'd be willing to work with me on this. I -"

"Lisa!" I roared, rising to my feet, "what you fail to comprehend," I continued, walking toward the doctor, who had also risen to her feet, a look of defiance on her face, "is that, for every minute we waste 'negotiating,' the chances of Benjamin's recovery grow increasingly remote. I I haven't got time for these petty games! Benjamin hasn't got time! If you're unwilling to help him - "

"Stop right there!" Lisa fired back, moving to stand chest-to-chest with me. "Never did I say that I wouldn't do what I could to help Benjamin! However, I need your reassurance that you won't meddle in my research! No sabotage, no ulterior motives - and no restrictions on the resources allocated to the project! And I do not want to be questioned about every last detail - you are welcome to review my progress at any time, but I will not tolerate any of the Spanish Inquisition garbage you're so notorious for! Do we have an understanding?"

I stood in silence, a placid expression on my face, trying to resist the urge to execute the doctor on the spot. Her requests were not unreasonable, but she had pushed the insubbordination envelope to the limit.

"Yes, doctor. I believe we do."

Schultz sighed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her pantsuit as she regained her composure.

"Very well, General. I'll need my laboratory made available immediately. And I'll need Benjamin to be present first thing tomorrow morning so I can run some tests."

I nodded.

"That'll be all for now."

The doctor tipped her head curtly, and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Lisa..."

Schultz froze, and glanced toward me.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."


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Major Richard Stryker
post Apr 29 2006, 03:52 PM
Post #8



Crayven Securities, Inc. | Intelligence Division
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From: Equinox, Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
Member No.: 40





"We've located the Foundation."

General Maxwell looked up with a start. Whether it was out of shock at my statement, or at my unannounced presence, I couldn't tell.

"I beg your pardon?"

I stepped into the General's office, and closed the door behind me.

"The Foundation is still in the Outworlds. We received a transmission from the Dnepier border patrol a few minutes ago. They've located the ship in the El Shaddari asteroid belt. Apparently, it's being beseiged by pirates."

General Maxwell rose from his desk.

"What's the force composition of the border patrol?"

I shook my head.

"I don't know. They can't be pursuaded to intervene."

The General strode toward me, his practiced, neutral demeanor beginning to give way.

"I suppose," Maxwell began, fury in his voice, "that threats or coercion did nothing to change their attitude?"

"Correct. And quite frankly, sir, we don't currently have the capacity to start a conflict with the entire Outworlds Alliance."

"Not yet, anyway," the General replied. "Very well. Have the repairs to the Half Moon been completed?"

"They have."

Maxwell grabbed his sportcoat from a wall-mounted rack.

"I want it prepped and ready to deploy to Dnepier in five hours. Board an Assault lance, along with as many Eisensturms and Shilones as the DropShip can handle. Ensure that the MC2-CS-A is aboard. And make whatever arrangements necessary to have a JumpShip chartered by morning."

I nodded.

"Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"Send the executive VTOL to Camelot. Have Benjamin brought to Equinox."


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Position : Major, Crayven Securities, Incorporated
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Director Gen Miyamoto
post Apr 29 2006, 05:31 PM
Post #9



Crayven Securities, Inc. | S.W.O.R.D. Director
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The early morning rain had subsided to a drizzle, making the final leg of the walk over to the far side of the Equinox site more comfortable. The stars were still visibile. that is if they weren't masked behind impenetrable clouds. I didn't know the exact time and didn't care. The nightmares were growing less and less frequent, yet also much more intense and the last thing I needed was a running tally of how many hours it had been since I last slept.

I left the comfort of the Crayven officer quarters, and my personal affects that Ben just recently got around to shipping, to visit the chief Battlemech Technician. I arrived slightly damp but relaxed from the exercise.

"Sabbich?" I asked, yelling to be heard over the machine shop's ambient clamor. A disintered astech pointed up to a second story office overlooking the mech bay. I nodded in thanks to half-hearted tech, but he was already buried in his clipboard again.

I climbed the stairs gingerly and knocked at the door, a moment latter it swung open and I was bid to enter by Rudolf Sabbich, honcho of the proving grounds.


"What can I do for you, Director" he asked in a formal tone. I sat down on an available work stool in the crowded and dusty office.

"I'm here about the Atlas." He shook his head knowingly. "Ah yes, the armaments. I'm sorry Director, but we just haven't got those new capacitated PPCs. We tried all over Sheraton. We have some nice extended range models in stock if you'd prefer."

I held up my hand to signify he didn't need to appologize, and began to explain.
"I was actually wondering if you still had any of the old Crayven-made weapons left."

"Well sure, half our supply on hand is from CS corp."


"Excellent, I was hoping to install some of those special Mark II X-Pulse lasers." Sabbich seemed keen on the idea.

"I think we can make it happen, come take a look at this analysis" he said as he pulled up a weapon allocation program on his main terminal.

This post has been edited by Director Gen Miyamoto: Apr 29 2006, 05:33 PM


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Position : Lt. Colonel, Crayven Securities, Inc.
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Saburo Kintaru
post May 6 2006, 05:31 PM
Post #10



Crayven Securities, Inc. | MechWarrior
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The rain storm had passed. Now peaceful calmness drenched the soaked city of Gellen’s Heights. I had sat up through the entire night atop the Equinox building, watching the thriving, near hypnotic trance of the city’s pulsating nightlife. The nightlife was a living entity of it’s own, breathing from the darkness and feeding in the artificial illumination. The entire viewing of this ‘organism’ was equal to watching a sped up movie of a flower blooming. It exploded, spreading it’s petals and expanding in size. This was the great birth of the night orchid. It’s colours were fantastic; a mixture of dark, striking shades that matched the nightlife. The colours matched the city. The city matched night orchid. The night orchid was the nightlife.
I sat and watched the drunken sleuths storm out from their bars and nightclubs. I watched as a homeless man try to get comfortable on the park bench, whilst trying to get a good night’s sleep. I watched as thugs beat up another homeless man. I watched as more drunken sleuths vacated the bars that began to close. They laughed and cheered, as did the thugs. But they were two different laughter’s. Laughter of happiness. Laughter of pure evil. Cries of joy. Cries of pain. Yes, the night orchid could be viewed as a thing of beauty, but it was also a thing of evil.
The rising sun ended the nightlife organism. The patrons of the bars and nightclubs slithered back into their dens. The homeless, if they were able, wandered the streets in search of food. All the while, the night orchid began to wither, signalling the death of the nightlife.

However, though it had ended, it was not permanently gone. There was always a night orchid, ready to bloom and spread it’s petals, every night. How did I know this? I knew this because I was a frequent viewer of the nightlife.

Though the sun had killed the night orchid, it bled new life into the city. It was the birth of a new day. For me, it was the start of any other day of pain and self misery. Every new day started with this question:

“What type of orchid am I?”

I stood and turned my back to the city as faint echoes of past laughter drifted passed my ear. It was laughter of happiness. It was laughter of pure evil…


Written very late at night, whilst the night orchid was blooming…


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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post May 8 2006, 01:09 AM
Post #11



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Rays of golden sunlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows of the Crayven Financial tower, as Major Richard Stryker and I made our way toward my father's temporary office. Fatigue had begun to overtake me, and I glanced at my wristwatch.

0615...this is absurd.

The executive VTOL had picked me up at Camelot at 0300 and had whisked me across the urban sprawl of Gellen's Heights to the Equinox compound. Rather than land atop one of the five pads situated across the gargantuan complex, the chopper's pilot set the lavish aircraft down directly outside the medical annex. An entourage of physicians immediately set upon the VTOL, escorting me into the depths of the building, and, for the next several hours, subjected me to a battery of tests about which I could only ascertain had been ordered by my father. Once the tests had concluded, I had been offered breakfast in the corporate commissary. I politely declined, and in short order, found myself ascending the levels of the lavish corporate tower.

"General," Major Stryker murmered, knocking twice on a heavy mahogany door which stood partially ajar.

"It's open," came my father's voice, sounding unusually distant and fatigued. With a gentle push, Major Stryker swung the door open, and motioned for me to enter. I nodded, and stepped across the threshold. My father stood before the twin Monticello-style windows that dominated the far wall of the executive suite, gazing at the spectacular sunrise cresting above the Gellen River. At the sound of my approach, he turned to face me, a haggard expression dominating his countenance.

"That'll be all, Richard. Thank you."

Stryker swungt he heavy door of the suite closed, leaving my father and I to speak alone.

"Benjamin...please...have a seat."

I stepped toward the two oversized chairs that stood resolutely before my father's monolithic desk.

"What's this all about, dad?"

The General made his way toward me, clasping his hands before him before sitting pensively on the edge of his desk. I slowly eased into the chair nearest to him.

"Benjamin - I know you hate it when I try to sugar-coat things...so I'm going to come right to the point. Several months ago, when we added you to the corporate roster, you underwent a physical as part of the standard enlistment procedure. As you well know, part of that procedure involved drawing blood for a full genetic workup - just in case."

I nodded.

"One of the most thorough batteries of tests I've seen - it rivals ComStar's screening process. At least...what I can remember of it."

A wan, tired smile flickered across my father's face. "Thank you."

"Go on."

The General took a deep breath.

"When we ran your genetics, we found several...irregularities. Nothing major - in fact the inconsistancies were quite isolated. The analyzer aboard the Dreams of Avarice didn't even flag it as anything requiring further investigation - and being that we were thrust into the conflict on Sheratan shortly thereafter, nothing more was done with it.

"When Doctor Schultz got ahold of your records for processing, however, she took a second look at the genetics. The irregularities got her attention. As soon as we were able to get to an HPG, the doctor sent your lab work off to a contact we maintain on St. Ives. While you were away on Delacruz, the results came back."


I leaned forward.

"And?"

With a great hesitation, my father looked toward me.

"It's Rissikin's Disease, Benjamin. The physicals you went through today confirmed that."

I felt as though I had been hit with a ton of ferrocrete. I fell back into the chair, dumbfounded.

"Are you sure?"

The pain and sadness in my father's eyes was nearly overwhelming.

"...yes," he replied, his voice cracking. "Believe me, Benjamin...I..wanted it to be anything other than what it was. I demanded countless re-tests...I even fired a researcher I thought might be falsifying the results. But...none of that changed the reality of the situation."

I clenched my hands tightly together.

"How...bad...is it?"

"Benjamin...it's not good."

"Damnit, dad!" I exclaimed, rising from my chair, and drawing nose-to-nose with my father. "How bad?!?"

Ordinarily, my father would not back down from a confrontation. But this time was different. This time, my father simply hung his head, studying his hands for several long moments before replying.

"Terminal, Benjamin. It's extremely advanced."

I took several horrified steps backward.

"How...long...do I have?"

My father looked up, tears in his eyes.

"Don't talk like that. Don't you fucking talk like that, damn it. You are not going to die! We're going to fight this! We're going to beat it, Benjamin. If I have to squander every last cent of this fucking corporation's money to do it," he began, his voice becoming husky and trailing off, "...then I will..."


--------------------
Position: Senior Captain | Legionnaires
Current BattleMech: WHF-3B White Flame (Lothos) [Heavy - Quad]
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Director Gen Miyamoto
post May 10 2006, 06:06 AM
Post #12



Crayven Securities, Inc. | S.W.O.R.D. Director
Rank: Lt Colonel



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Group: Crayven Securities, Inc.
Posts: 56
Joined: 22-December 05
From: CSV Half-Moon, Outworlds Alliance
Member No.: 17





Things were getting strange in Equinox. I hadn't seen Charles in days and his secretary has been giving me the run around for at least 4 hours. A riot has broken out and Caswell's called for mech support to cover the perimeter, which doesn't add up at all. Crayven infantry are the best in the mercenary world, if he wanted to take control of the situation he could have a brigade in place by hours end.

This all I could handle in itself. Maxwell's an eccentric and Caswell's obsessive compulsive. These are truths I have learned to accept. What really was worrying me was the strange directives which constitued the last contact I'd had with Charles. 'Pack your gear' he wrote, 'and don't make any long term commitments on Sheraton.' Which translated into corporate terms means we're shipping off for a long stretch.

I try to fill my time with progress reports on the RVN-CS series and examining buisness plans for a mobile refit facility to tour a Davion PDZ. Crayven may not have been doing so hot in the convetional defense contracts but it's emerging refit/prototyping buisness was taking off. Even with plenty of work to do, I can't seem to get over the strange occurences.

Judging by the fact that technicians were loading my Atlas on the Half Moon, I could at least take comfort in expecting a combat assignment soon.


This post has been edited by Director Gen Miyamoto: May 11 2006, 03:36 PM


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Position : Lt. Colonel, Crayven Securities, Inc.
Callsign : Redeemer
Current Battlemech : Atlas
Loadout : 2 MRM-10s, 2 Large X-Pulse Lasers Mk II, SRM 6, Gauss Rifle, C3 Master Computer
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General Harold Saxon
post Sep 19 2006, 09:51 PM
Post #13



Crayven Securities, Inc. | Tactical Division
Rank: General



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Posts: 10
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Member No.: 39





Crayven Securities Compond 'Equinox'
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
17 October 3069 - 1322 Hours
__________________________________________

"Deneb Kaitos has fallen."

The rain drummed rhythmically on my office window as an afternoon thunderstorm passed over Gellen's Heights, depositing several centimeters of rain across the city as it moved out to sea. I grunted an affirmation to Colonel Jack Cheviot, who stood in the office doorway, waiting for an invitation to step inside.

"Close the door, and sit down," I muttered, closing the e-mail program to which my attentions had been devoted before Cheviot's arrival. I leaned forward in my chair, folding my hands before me, as the Colonel scurried to a chair, and sat down pensively, a folder of intelligence documents held tightly in his grip.

"Details."

Cheviot handed me the manilla folder.

"It's all in the packet, General. Apparently - "

"I haven't got time to dig through all of this, Jack. Give me the bottom line."

The Colonel averted eye contact for a moment, a nervous demeanor overtaking him momentarily as my words took hold. After recomposing himself, he spoke.

"The planet fell to the Blakists the same day our operatives were carrying out the Deneb Kaitos contract."

The words hit hard. If the loss of the planet could be attributed to a shortcoming by the Crayven Corporation, the bad publicity would be disasterous.

"Did we fail, Mister Cheviot? Is this in any way our responsibility?"

Cheviot shook his head.

"No, General. The information we're receiving is that our operatives were successful at destroying a Word of Blake weapons platform that had been used to destroy Deneb Kaitos' second moon. As it so happened, the platform was only the first ship in floatilla of vessels under the command of the Hand of Blake. The other vessels arrived shortly after the platform's destruction. An SPT-32 monitoring satellite recorded the Dreams of Avarice and the Half Moon attempting to destroy the Blakist floatilla, but they were unsuccessful."

"What do you mean by 'unsuccessful,' Mister Cheviot?"

The Colonel took a deep breath.

"The Half Moon was utterly obliterated by two Eagle frigates. The Dreams of Avarice was shot down and crashed on Deneb Kaitos. We are not aware of any survivors."

"Regrettable. And the Liberty?"

Cheviot didn't answer. A pensive look crossed his face.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"The Liberty. What the hell happened to the Liberty?"

Jack Cheviot visibly shrunk in his chair. After a moment, he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Captured, sir. With all hands. Including...General Maxwell."

This post has been edited by General Ryan Caswell: Sep 19 2006, 09:51 PM


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Position : General, Crayven Tactical
Callsign : Templar
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Colonel Jack Cheviot
post Sep 20 2006, 05:19 AM
Post #14



Chief of Internal Affairs | Crayven Securities, Inc.
Rank: Colonel



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Member No.: 52





"Disavow him."

The General's words caught me off-guard.

"Sir?"

Caswell's eyes narrowed, a look of extreme displeasure crossing his face.

"I said, disavow him, Colonel. You are the Director of Internal Affairs, are you not? You do understand the policy concerning Crayven Corporation employees who are taken prisoner by hostile forces, I assume."

I cast a worried glance at the General.

"With all due respect, sir, I don't believe that a General has ever been disavowed in the history of this company, let alone a CEO, acting or otherwise. And, aside from that...we're talking about Charles Maxwell, sir, not some mid-level bean counter."

"...which is precisely why a rescue mission is entirely out of the question! If we were to fail, and the Blakists succeeded in downloading Maxwell's brain before we had a chance to wash our hands of him, the consequences could be disasterous! The man is privy to information so classified - and so damning - that even I do not have access to it! We cannot take that risk. I will not put the well-being of one man above that of the entire Corporation.

"Now, you are to carry out standard disavowment procedures, and in addition, I want Charles Maxwell's identity erased from existence. You will do this by whatever means necessary - destroy all public records concerning him, including birth certificates, press releases, advertisements, and newspaper articles. Then, revoke all shares of stock purchased in his name. Freeze and close out his bank accounts - ensure that no transaction records remain on file with any of the financial institutions he's done business with. Cancel his credit cards, revoke his security clearences, and destroy any projects he may have been working on at the time he departed for Deneb Kaitos. Send a team to Canada and have his estate liquidated - burn it to the ground if you have to."


I gave General Caswell an incredulous look - one which he pretended not to notice.

"I don't want anything getting traced back to us."

I hesitated momentarily.

"And...will there be anything else, sir?"

The General furrowed his eyebrows.

"Have his office gutted. And shut down the Rissikin's research program."

This post has been edited by Colonel Jack Cheviot: Sep 20 2006, 05:50 AM
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