John slowly rose from his bed as he awoke. His entire cabin was dark and unlit, hiding him in shadow and darkness, just the way he liked it. He made his way to his equipment and dawned his gear. John started with his body armor, then pulled his helmet over his head, before buckling his belt which held his holstered guns and grenades, and finally attached his machete to his back. He moved through the automatic door that led out of his cabin of the Alamo and into the much more lit hallway, his helmet's visor quickly dimming to allow his eyes time to adjust from the previous almost pitch black darkness. [i]Got to admit, the bed is much more comfy than the single mattress back on the Cobra. Might have to take it with me when I leave. Just nine years, eleven months, twenty-nine days, fifteen hours, twenty-eight minutes, and ten seconds until then.[/i] The mercenary let out a sigh before continuing his train of thought. [i]This is going to be one long ass contract.[/i]

He looked out one of the many windows, this one facing starboard, of the ship and stared into the vast, empty space. All John could see were white dots on a black canvas, but he knew the danger of this almost beautiful scenery. [i]If you're not too careful, it'll swallow you up and never spit you back out.[/i] Almost on cue, a dead body floated pass the window, it's uniform belonging to someone from the Xenovian Revolutionary Front. As the body passed away from view, the wreckage of the XRF cruiser that the body belonged to passed by before being followed by more scrapped cruisers and fighters. [i]Damn Imps must have put up a pretty good fight. They've been taking home quite a few victories recently, but my money's on the terrorists this time. Looks like a lot more Imperial cruisers are out in the wreckage than XRF's.[/i]

[color=ed1c24]"I need something to drink,"[/color] the mercenary thought, this time out loud. On John's way to the Alamo's galley, a blinking light appeared on the Heads Up Display of his helmet. With the press of a button on the datapad on his wrist, the light expanded and became several lines of text. [i]Ah, today's assignments. Seems like we got a few. Let's see what we've got.[/i]

[hider=Siege on Teta]
XRF forces recently broke through the blockade over the Imperial controlled planet of Teta and are now preparing a ground assault to take one of the Imperial fortresses. Unfortunately for them, they lost quite a few of their ships while trying to get through and need more bodies for the assault. Fortunately for us, you're nearby. The fortress is heavily fortified and the chances of survival are low, but a bonus will be provided to those who make it through the meat grinder.
[/hider]

[hider=Escort of Babylon IV]
The Babylon IV is a Yamikov-Fujikawa transport ship trying to escape the incoming assault on one of the fortresses of Teta and they're going to need an escort. With all of the Imperial troops and ships busy with protecting the fortress, no one else is going to be able to protect the Babylon IV and her cargo, several tons of raw Oppenheimium ore. The possibility of combat is extreme with the XRF so nearby and with the route it's taking so filled with pirates and other criminals, but no bonus will be provided.
[/hider]

[hider=Guard on Teta]
One of the Nova Bratva's many drug labs for the hallucinogenic known as Xen seems to have had its location leaked to the Mota Clan and could need some protection. With the XRF possibly taking over the planet, they might just cut their losses and run, maybe hope the XRF takes it out during its occupation. Nevertheless, Nova's willing to pay big bucks to make sure the place can keep making its product. With the likelihood of there being no action whatsoever, no bonus will be provided.
[/hider]

After finishing reading, John looked at the missions quizzically. [i]All of these contradict one another, we do one and we won't be able to do the other two and we're too small of a group to split up... Oh wait, we're supposed to choose one aren't we? The crew will probably all vote and majority wins. We do whatever mission gets the most votes. Well that's fucking stupid. Who cares what we want? We're weapons, aim us and fire, don't let the weapon choose its target.[/i] John just chose a random mission and went back to making himself a cup of coffee, so he could drink it in peace as he watched the dead ships and bodies surreally float past the nearby window.