![]() ![]() There is no honorable discharge, if there's enough of you to scrape up and dump in something mechanical, we'll keep putting you out there. And thats the rub my newly made and no doubt transitory friends, there are only 2 ways out of the HMR Corps: you complete 10 missions or you die. And all you have to do is do that 10 times and you're free and clear, full pardon and carte blanche to do as you please. ![]() 3 degrees above absolute zero planetoid, irradiated hellhole and unimaginably warped sector of space-time in the pursuit of some more then likely meaningless alien can opener. What that means to you is being sent to every godforsaken. The HMR Corps has one mission: to gather research materials for the Magisters to aid in whatever xeno-war we're dealing with now-a-days. They made me out of whats left of the brains of the unit before you. Well, my name is Steve and I'm a computer. Some of you might have even joined voluntarily. Some of you probably committed crimes against the state. A lot of you probably angered your local Magister. I'm sure you all have your reasons for being here. Hello, and welcome to the Hazardous Materials Requisition Corps. ![]()
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