“I not sell you my people. They work, you pay them, you take care of them.” The goblin chief said, waving a group of goblins carrying sandbags forward. They were at the recently attacked checkpoint, which was being reinforced with loads of dirt filled bags taken from god knows and used to double up on cover.
“No problem. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Marcus said, not expecting it to be this easy. “So uh, do I just shout it at the market or do I post a job offering somewhere?”
“I tell my people to spread the word.” The chief replied, waving someone away. The goblin nodded and ran off, disappearing among the mass of pointy ears.
“Okay then. I’ll make it simple. Thirty rounds per day with a signing bonus of 20 rounds. I’ll arm them and I’ll train them. But I’ll keep all the rights to all the property I provide them and if they want to, they can leave whenever they want, given that there is no upcoming fight. Since I can’t have mass desertion whenever we’re coming up on one. Two of yours are good enough for now, I think. Better to start small.”
The chief nodded. “Is fine. I spread the word.” He said, then called over his bodyguard. A long string of commands to a runner who set off to follow the orders.
“So, you want an exchange for it or what?” Marcus asked.
“No.” The Chief replied, catching a goblin approaching them and gave a signal, which it duly ran off to accomplish. Seeing as the chief was looking to be having a busy day and him not needing anything else, Marcus excused himself and stepped back to let him handle his business.
“Right. Thanks.”
Moving through the market, he could see the attack on the station entrance gave the entire station a tense atmosphere. There were fewer goblins walking down the main avenue, and everyone was giving him weary looks. There weren’t any threats and open accusations thrown yet, but Marcus knew it will only be a matter of time if he keeps staying around the station longer.
Heading to Bo’s shop, Marcus cinched his pack tighter. It was a lot lighter now, with all the explosives gone.
Selling the idea of placing explosives in the tunnels was easy, along with selling the explosives themselves. Marcus sold them cheap, with barely the overhead since he had another order of rifles. This time worth about fifty thousand worth in partial credit of five bags of tea packed in his bag. Somehow, despite his business sense telling him to refuse, Marcus accepted. If a warlord must loan money from his gun runner, then it seems like it should be the best time to drop him, but the chief was his only customer at the moment and it wouldn’t do well to leave his sole supplier in the dust on the first sign of danger. Also, it wasn’t like he was getting that too down in the red, since the retail price of the mushrooms was much more than what they were selling it for him.
No. Marcus had to remind himself again that both their futures are intertwined now and their prosperity is also tied to his own. He shouldn’t be greedy. This place could also be a further source of manpower, for the quality, he would have to wait and see. If he could get a training regimen set, he could undercut the system itself on providing players and guilds their needed guards, mechanics, cooks, and any support personnel they are going to need in the maintenance of their bases and vehicles. His unique job ability of being able to write up contracts paired with his instruction skill allowed him to do just that. All he needs are bodies.
Marcus smiled. Yes, he could see it now. He could be this game’s Halliburton. If he could get enough fighters trained, he could also be this game’s Blackwater, or maybe even try his hand in toppling governments and factions like Executive Outcomes.
But first, logistics. He pulled up his menu to write on his notes, listing guns, ammunition, and other supplies that they will need. He would also have to read up on the subject at some point. His limited knowledge could only get him so far.
Marcus thought back on the data packet left for him by his family and friends. Brandon knew about the topics he liked to read and if his insinuations were on point, there should be some material in there. Reading up on all the things he read, Marcus had a likely chance of being on some list. Now, it was impossible for him not to be.
Marcus was walking in the small hallway leading to Bo’s shop when he saw the familiar figure of one of the Chief’s bodyguards. “Who are these?” he asked, looking at the two scrawny goblins looking up at him.
“Your fighters. Two, like said. Chief say not to get them killed.” The Chief’s bodyguard, Okz, replied. He stood behind the two with his shotgun held in his little hands and looked to be coercing them rather than just taking them to him. Still, Marcus had little idea how their culture worked and maybe him asking the chief for manpower for his own is like asking your neighbor for some sugar.
“Okay then. I’ll take them.” Marcus replied. Okz nodded and left. Marcus looked down at the pitiful duo and could only sigh. They were thin, barely looking to hold up a full sized rifle to their shoulders, let alone be able to shoot them accurately. Marcus guessed they were the rejects for their security forces and were likely just thrown at him to get them out of the way. Or at least that’s how he could look at it, but manpower is still manpower. The quality might fall on a range of deadweight to useful beings of society, but the only way he could find out right now is to test them himself.
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He pulled out a couple of papers he prepared and handed them to the two. They both looked at the piece of paper and seemed to read it. ‘Either the system is adapting, or it’s just making a show,’ Marcus reasoned as he watched the two nod in satisfaction and before Marcus could react, biting their hand and using their blood to sign their prints on the paper.
Congratulations! You have recruited two NPCs into your command! Take care of them.
Warning!
2 employees pending payment! (2x20 7.62x39mm rounds)
-10 Morale after time limit ends! (24H)
Morale
Hidden stat. The overall level of your force’s enthusiasm. Ranging from -100 to +100, effects vary from the level of NPC morale from the NPC respawning immediately after death to desertion.
Alright. Marcus read the notification. He needed bullets to pay the two their signing bonus. The pristine armor piercing round and hollow points he had loaded in his pack and magazines will not do as they are worth a lot more compared to the dirtier rounds being circulated in their station.
He waved for them to follow as he went inside Bo’s shop, and could already see them dragging their feet. “Hey Bo. How much are you saying you want the goggles for again!?”
“5000c!” Bo shouted back from the back of his shop.
“Can you make it in bullets? I got my guys right now and they look like they need a meal first.” He then looked at the two. “Can you understand me?”
“Yes. We do.” One of them answered.
“Well, stand there for a bit. I’ll get you two your pay and we could get you two something to eat.” Marcus said, seeing their eyes light up for a bit. Walking over to Bo, he found him laying a .50 cal ammo can on one of the benches and nodded.
“There’s a thousand shitty ammo there in clips of 10. I’ll give you the rest later. Come on! I’m good for it! Do know that each caliber has their own value against others. 7.62x39 is the base. If goblins are looking for payment and they throw a number, they are talking about 7.62. There are, of course, exchange rates between the calibers, but you can just find them out yourself. But don’t get scammed. The usual rate is you can break a single 7.62x39 into three pistol calibers, and two 7.62x39 is worth one full power rifle cartridge, like 7.62x51 and 54R.”
Marcus nodded. The conversion rate is simple enough, and he looked down at the can and saw lines of reloaded 7.62 rounds with questionable quality packed neatly in stripper clips. It made a quick way of denominating them without counting them himself, and Marcus took a handful of clips totaling to 120 rounds of ammunition. “Going to be a bitch carrying that much on me just to pay them. Is there a better way of, you know, carrying their currency in a more compact package. Gold maybe?”
“Its tea.”
“Well fuck. I guess I’ll just keep paying them in ammo then.” Marcus said and tossed the two’s signing bonus towards them. The two took their payment and kept in their little pouches hanging off the same ropes keeping their loincloths on their waist, with both now looking to be very much in high spirits.
“Follow me,” Marcus waved, the two now having a visible spring on their step. “What are your names?”
“Gabs.”
“Fleex.”
Marcus looked at the two and already knew his going to mix them up at some point. He needed a better way to distinguish who from who. “Good. Expect your two’s pays on the end of the week.
You two know this, I may not make you happy, but I can keep you two comfortable. I’ll provide your clothes, equipment, food. All I need from the two of you are two things: that you follow my orders, and you don’t stab me in the back. If we don’t have a fight coming, you can ask to leave anytime you want, but I’ll only let you go two weeks after you tell me. These are simple instructions. Do you two understand?”
Both nodded, and Marcus nodded back. He led them to the market where he spent the rest of the rounds buying them food and locally made guns.
The starting guns of a couple of pipe shotguns also worked to his advantage as it allowed Marcus to dangle the opportunity to be promoted directly by being given better guns through personal achievements and earning his trust. As a demonstration, Marcus pulled out the VSK-94 now slung on his shoulder alongside his MDR and let them feel the rifles, making them salivate at the chance of owning them before taking it back.
Marcus could see hunger in their eyes and he hoped it should provide the two enough motivation to be as loyal to him as he could, even better if more loyal than the chief.
With everything needed to be done in the station, Marcus led the two as they made their way back to the ship through the underground tunnels. While walking, Marcus thought more about the logistics of this small operation. The way he set it up was that he would provide everything, which meant that all property and responsibility would fall on him. It should work with a small team, but as his plan to expand his numbers and operations, he would need a solid plan to keep everything in working order and to establish a solid organization.
Marcus looked at the two and the pitiful rags they were wearing. They needed uniforms, for them to identify each other at a distance more easily, while giving the impression of a credible force. The clothes available in the station would not do. He needed to give his men a level of prestige separate to the local forces there, which meant that he would have to source them at another place. The ship was an easy source, but there were no BDU’s available to fit the four-foot frames of the goblins, which meant that they would have to modify the clothes to an extent.
They would need load bearing gear, packs, and, if possible, even electronic communications. It was a good thing the goblins given to him could communicate with some issues. They would have to learn to speak clearly, or at least able to deliver precise and concise information. Still, it should be something that could be fixed with enough effort.
Marcus did some mental math as he led the way. Ten thousand credits for each goblin for equipment and training should be enough for their level at the moment. Reaching the caved in part of the tunnel where they have to pass through the outer sentries, Marcus turned to his pair of green little mercenaries and declared.
“Alright. Take out those shotguns and I’ll try to teach you both which end to point at the enemy at least.”