Members Lore

Mal Reynolds, cousin of the OBE empire 

Mal Reynolds was born into the Omusul Breakfast Enterprise dynasty, a great nephew to Reynauld himself. His Father was an engineer working for Microtech in the production of the Mobiglas and his mother ran the local and only branch of the Breakfast Enterprise in the Stanton system. As he grew up the young Mal became interested in the adventure of space travel and the occupations of his parents came a far second. He quickly qualified as a pilot served his apprenticeship years with a transport organisation that was affiliated with the family business. He longed for more adventure though and eventually joined a group that specialised in exploration with a view to advancing his career. The move started off well, his quick thinking and imaginative mind brought profits and promotion, as the new organisation grew too big though he felt the restlessness strike him again, and after consultation with one of his best friends in the organisation he called the meeting that was to be the Founders meeting at his cousins restaurant on Mars… the rest is the future....

Mal's motto: 'Why Toast? ..... everything is better with toast'. 


Cerberus was a child genius, brought up on Earth in the Sol system by wealthy over achieving parents he was launched at an early age into big business and found an outlet for his genius in the management of the Holo-server network. He developed enabling software for the Mobiglas which was well beyond anything produced elsewhere and was snapped up by a large organisation to assist in their business strategy. Cerberus is the youngest of the founders, nicknamed politely as the Server God, he has a other nicknames associated with his love for fitness hydro-sports and those of the female gender none of which are appropriate for this medium. He operates where needed from his ultra connected Herald. Cerby's friends realised that without him any new organisation would be in trouble and so the rest is the future...


Murgen is the enigma amongst the Founders, his origins shrouded in the mystery of his own creation. His Raven Squadron began operating in the Bremen area over thirty years before the founding of OBEC. The squadron showed themselves to be expert combat pilots with a tactical foresight beyond that of the most experienced UEE pilots. This caused them to be hired for the most dangerous missions and brought them into one of the largest exploration organisations as a lodger unit. Not everything in the universe works out though and Murgen along with the other founders got together and the rest is the future...


Mr Sokar's history is one of a concentrated work ethic, from high school onwards through his graduation and onto the workplace he had no concept of relaxation his focus firmly on the task(s) in hand. Until his hardware inventions brought him into an exploration organisation that recognised his superior talents, he had not left his native Mars. Then space travel introduced him to even more amazing prospects both for profit and invention. He became the indispensable data management expert, and his enlightened computer tech the envy of UEE space. Through happenstance Mr Sokar fell in with Fil1976 and his friends and the rest is the future...


Fil had always been a manager, the stories from his Kindergarten on Selene (Vega III) where filled with anecdotes of his organising his fellow toddlers into games of adventure. This continued throughout his schooling and it came as no surprise to his parents or his peers that he went onto study Business management at the most prestigious university on Terra. With a Masters under his belt and a professorship on offer he took his equally keen talent of piloting spacecraft and went into space development organisation. Starting with large companies and corporations he then worked with start ups gaining a reputation as the man to have on your board of directors. If a company had Fil on its board it's stock had an immediate boost, which is why he ended up as COO for the largest exploration company in the known universe. Unfortunately, this seemingly perfect marriage did not work out and led to the calling of the Founders Meeting... the rest is the future.

Mokin Rin

Mokin Rin was born in 2923 on the Bremen agricultural planet of Rytif. Her family were farmers back three generations and although not wealthy they had a comfortable lifestyle. Mokin's life was changed, however, when she was 8 years old, her cousin Rota had been playing only yards from her when an auto-harvester slewed out of sync and tore her legs off. Rota died hours later, the rudimentary medical bot unable to cauterize the wounds in time. Mokin grew up very fast, she was determined that she would dedicate her life to improving medical science to prevent needless deaths. By  the age of 14, her reading and inquisitive interrogation of the Spectrum brought her to the attention of the UEE Navies Medical branch. She was offered a place at the Navies Medical College a full four years before the average start age. This unprecedented move launched her into a period of intense study, then research under the guidance of Master Bioengineer Richard Hibbs. Mokin amazed her mentor with her ability to think beyond current technology and with other biomedical staff produced improved MedPen dosages giving limited regenerative tissue growth and trauma reduction. 

When in October 2945 the attack on Vega caused a massive ramping up of UEE forces, Mokin insisted she was deployed to the front line where her actions as a Field Medic and Trauma manager saved hundreds of lives. Here, she also continued to develop ideas on improvements to nanobots and treatment drugs which were passed back to her alma mater. When the UEE wanted to recall her to continue her research, Mokin felt that her inspiration would be lost in academia and after a fruitless battle Mokin gave up her commission in the UEE and moved into the civilian world. When OBEC was formed, an early recruit who shall remain nameless, familiar with her work, recommended her to the founders.... the rest is the future.


Jonathan Eagle sat on the threshold. His Harrier hummed beneath him as if awaiting the command to take that leap into the unknown. Throughout his life Jonathan had taken risks; from leaving Terra to join the UEE Navy 70 years ago at the fragile age of 17 to that last headlong battle where he had held his position in the vain attempt to prevent the loss of the carrier to the Vanduul strike. Then though he had had a Gladius, a honed fighter with fire power and maneuverability. Now he was on a ship almost as old as he was, a ship designed for research at a time when the enemy was space itself, sure she had had some retrofits, and Johnathan had outfitted a couple of lasers to give him some form of defense. This time though he hoped that he was headed for virgin territory, a Valhalla that would prove both peaceful and profitable.

He had done the right thing by his family, he had left them with an explanation of his plan and more than enough credits to set them up in their chosen professions. Clark, the hot head had taken after him and when the twins mother had died he had packed up and joined the Navy. Kara though, she had wanted to be a Doctor, a noble profession, Jonathan thought, and one whose services he had been more than once been welcome of. He moved his right arm, flexing the bionics that made up the lower two thirds of it… he had lost that at Kraveed, just about the same time as they had lost the carrier, and most of his friends. That had been the end of his career, sure the navy still used people with prosthetics, hell it would grind to a halt if they didn’t, just not as front line jet jockies, and to Jonathan that was what he lived for.

He eyed up the scanner again, he was right, the readings were off the chart, this was a worm hole all right and an uncharted one. He had first got a hint that it was there doing a cargo run about 20 years ago, it had been a dodgy deal and he was unable to break off the trip to further investigate, he had had to get to Stanton in three days. Since that time commercial employment and a few other dodgy deals had kept him away from the system and his wife and twins. When Carol had died two years ago, he realised that he had wasted the time he could have had with her. It saddened him and made him determined to do something with his life, even if it meant ending it.

The twins didn’t need him any more, Clark was now callsign “Broadsword-Eagle” and flying Hornets in Squadron 36, and Kara was at medical school on Terra, why she had chosen to go back there to study he had no idea, but he was happy for her. He was happy for both of them, Carol had done a good job and raised fine kids while he had been scouring the verse for credits to give them the life he knew they deserved.

The Harrier hummed a little louder for a few seconds and he scanned the instruments to see if there was a problem, “Carol, checks please.” He barked, he always called his ship computer Carol, it made him feel she was there with him.

“Hull 100%, Shields 100%, Quantum Fuel 70%, Hydrogen Fuel 65%, Weapons armed and ready, Landing gear raised, all scans negative, no threats in immediate vicinity. Tractor beam is still faulty and will need repair at our next dock. I am sure you have noticed that we are on the verge of a worm hole with unknown destination. I do hope you are not thinking of taking this rust bucket there.”

Jonathan chuckled he liked the sassiest programme for his onboard computer. “Sure am Carol”

“We are doomed” she said back and he smiled again.

“Carol, send the message packet to the twins now please.”

“Sending, you really are going to do this aren’t you.”

“Yup, This is Longsword-Eagle charting the unknown or… who knows”

He eased forward on the throttle and the Harrier picked up as the engines began to throb.

“Start the charting Carol this is going to be quite a ride”


The space around him began to distort and as it did the kaleidoscopic tube opened up in front of him he felt the G’s and fought with the controls to keep the old rust bucket in the centre of the stream…. Space swallowed up Jonathon Eagle AKA Longsword-Eagle.

Ten years later…

Clark Eagle was sitting in the squadron briefing room of the Tiger class Carrier “Annie Jump Cannon” there were only two squadrons embarked and three lodger units covering ancillary duties. Clark was the number two in 36 squadron, his callsign was “Broadsword-Eagle” keeping with his family tradition of linking a pre industrial weapon with their surname, as a Commander junior grade he was responsible for the administration of the squadron. He was reading through the reports on the twelve Hornets assigned to them with half a mind. Their last raid into Vanduul space had been punishing, of the twelve, three had already been in deep maintenance and one out with sensor failure, two now had major damage which would result in a requirement for return to ship yard, and three had minor damage which could be rectified on board, although take a considerable amount of maintenance hours. So he had four Hornets serviceable and ready to deploy by Command, his Squadron CO will not be happy. 

The other half of his mind was distracted by his own future though, for 12 years now he had served as a UEE pilot on various commands including one term in the academy which had bored the living daylights out of him. This two year tour as XO of the squadron had been challenging and enjoyable but it was nearly over, he knew that if he took a further staff appointment Command of a squadron was a real possibility, but his heart wasn’t in it, Ten years ago a data package from his father had changed his whole outlook on life, he had invested the funds left to him and was now in a position to buy his own ship and take off for a life less regimented, although far more uncertain. The decision was made, he had earned his Citizenship six times over, no one doubted his right to leave and strike out on his own, his superiors though believed he was making a mistake… sometimes he wondered about that too…

"Have you heard?" His thoughts were interrupted by Shannon Briar, the squadron CO for 34 squadron.

"Heard what?" He replied astonished at the normally reserved, experienced Commanders apparent shock.

"The Vanduul," she paused, "They have attacked Vega, they have wiped them out.. it was a massacre. God, shit this is fucked up."

Clark's heart started to hammer in his chest, this changed everything, he snatched up the data pad from the maintenance squad again frantically looking for something wrong.

"Broadsword," His Commander shouted from the briefing room door, "The Captain wants to see us now!" Clark dropped the Data pad on the desk, the data was already in his Mobiglas anyway even if he couldn't remember the miserable stats. As a squadron XO, you rarely got called to see the Carriers Captain. He followed Commander Jameson out the door.

The Captain's quarters were generous, functional rather than opulent but generous. Clark had only been in them twice before, once for a reprimand he would rather forget, and once to tender is discharge papers a month ago.

Captain Grace Hollaway was a small grey haired Terran with a grim expression at the best of times, today she glowered as if her mood would be enough to extinguish the Vanduul race. "Gentlemen, you have obviously heard the Spectrum feed," Clark hadn't but wasn't going to stop the flow from the Iron Lady. "I have a signal from Admiral Bishop we are to ramp up and head out to Vega immediately, Jameson you have a field promotion to Captain, Bishop wants you to take command of the Hawking, he has a special mission for you. We will drop you at Sol on the way."

"Sir!" Jameson nodded, keeping a straight face.

"Eagle," the Captain continued, "Your discharge is stopped, obviously, you are hereby promoted to Commander and CO of 36 squadron. You were ready for it anyway, so get those civilian dreams out of your head and get things moving."

"Sir!" Clark responded. His mind running through the changes he would have to make to both his private circumstances and the squadron. "Sir, I am going to need some urgent repairs done to get the squadron up to strength. May even need some replacement Hornets."

"Got you." Captain Hollaway nodded. "Get the requirement details together ASAP we are not going to have long at Sol and I want to leave there fully manned and available, god knows what we are headed into."

"Clark," He had never known her to use his first name, "Get to it, double the maintenance shift, I am relying on you."

Clark saluted and left, his world had turned on it's head and he had a shed load to do...

wo Months later...

"Alpha Flight this is Broadsword, keep your scans to passive and ziplip, this is where things start to get interesting." Clark and two flights of his squadron were escorting a Hull C with supplies from Kellog back to Vega. The Annie was back at Kellog putting together another batch of ships for convoy. His XO had Charlie flight back there running CSP for the Carrier whilst 34 squadron was on protection duty on the planet surface. They were spread thin and this was dangerous space to be in.

He was dividing his attention between a visual sweep and his passive scanners as they approached the Jump point, when he saw the spike of a transmission come up on his radar. Damn, he thought, the Hull C had just transmitted, damn those amateurs. He noted the flash of headlights from his wing man, she had spotted it too. Then the shit hit the fan...

From astern of the group came the radio freq scream of an incoming Vanduul pack. His wingman catching the IR span her ship in Decouple and commenced fire. Clark strafed up to clear an easy assault and jumped on the open channel to the Hull C. "Macnight 3, this is Broadsword jump now I say again jump now." before he could finish there was a burst of fire messing up his shields. He decoupled and swivelled to meet his attacker. There were two of them and at least another five on the radar behind them. "Alpha flight go active, Bravo flight join the fight, make sure that the Macnight makes his jump."

Bravo flight, four brand new Hornets, picked up seven weeks ago at Sol, had been shadowing the convoy out of sensor range, ready for just such a surprise attack, they blazed into the battle taking out Vanduul Scythes as they approached. "Alpha Four, jump with the Mac." He instructed, so that he didn't leave the Hull C completely undefended in the final jump to Vega. Two and Three on me lets shred these beasts."

As Bravo Flight cut into the back of the Vanduul pack, his wingmen and him took up a loose formation and swung over to cut the remainders path to the Hull C. He heard the call from Alpha Four "Jumping" and watched the two blips disappear from his radar screen. The Vanduul went into a starburst manoeuvre throwing Clarks formation off track he strafed right and up still decoupled bringing his cannons to bear on the left most Scythe, the Badgers cut through his its shields and hull and it fell apart in front of him. He could hear Two and Three exchanging shorthand as they picked targets.

"Broadsword, Charlie One, more just jumped in, we are outgunned." Clark glanced quickly at his scope there was a rash of red blips astern of Bravo Flights. "All units to the jump point." Clark ordered, "we need to get the hell out of here."

He watched as his two flights ramped up speed and still engaging made for the jump point, The Vanduul were not in an obliging mood though. He watched as two of Bravo's blips left the screen and as he continued fire on the Scythes ahead of him he heard a wail from Alpha two.

Clark held on to his attack as he watched the remaining ships of his squadron make the Jump point, and as the last one jumped he swung in a last desperate bid to reach it himself. He heard the internal squeal of his ship as a Scythe laser cut through his starboard wing he hit the jump drive as he felt a thud of metal against his shoulder, space distorted around him as he blacked out....

His ship made it through the jump, thanks to the autopilot, not him. What remained of Clark's squadron, three of them, realised quite quickly that inside his mangled ship he was still alive and wit the help of a Vega based Cutlass Red he was extricated and swept down to the field hospital planetside. He came to, three days later in pain but in one piece.

"You're a lucky son of a bitch," The attendant medic told him. "The Ice Maiden was on duty when you came in."

"Ice Maiden?" he asked conscious that he was slurring through the medication.

"Yeah, Doctor Rin." He laughed. "best trauma Doctor on the planet but a pure bitch to work for. She saved your arm, thought you would lose it for sure, but she is trying these new Nano jabs, bloody miracle them things. Yup you are lucky."

Three months later... 25th April 2946

"Captain Eagle, welcome to the Clyde Tombaugh sir." Clark stepped onto the Flight Deck of his First Command, a shiny new Idris fresh out of the ship yard. Things had changed a lot in the last six months.

Captain Broadsword-Eagle had just short of a year in command of the Clyde Tombaugh, after which he felt that the situation had stabilised enough for him to follow his ambitions in the civilian world. He had heard from an old friend of his sister Kara, "Cerberus Zero", who was getting together with a group of like-minded individuals to set up an organisation called OBEC. The rest is the future....

Keiji (on leave)

Keiji is a rarity within a rarity. A pure blood from an ancient culture he can track his ancestry back to Earth’s Fifteenth century Japan and probably before that, had records been available. The culture dynasty that was Keiji’s heritage has led to strict genetic arrangements to ensure against unhelpful mutations, but has also insured an inherited genius level intelligence. As the only child of a significant branch of his family, Keiji was destined to be joined with a compatible partner. He rebelled, taking his already significant fortune he started to set up his own fleet and left the systems around Sol. By good fortune the rebellious young man found the organisation called OBEC and put his resources to good use developing the mining section of the organisation. Keiji’s real name is not known to any of his compatriots, his family still hunt him down to bring him to heel and preserve the dynasty… 

© OBEC 2018