3 members
“You have to be realistic about these things.” — The First Ninefingered One
In the dark corners of space, where UEE law ends and real power begins, there’s a name whispered like a curse and called upon like a war cry: The Bloody Nine.
Forged in the brutal fire of forgotten conflicts, The Bloody Nine aren’t soldiers. They’re survivors—honed by betrayal, bred by war, and bound by a single truth: the only peace worth trusting is the one you carve for yourself.
We don’t file reports. We don’t give quarter.
Every Nine wears the mark in honor of Logen Ninefingers, the ancient Terran warlord whose legend lived longer than the Empire that buried him. Some say he was a monster. Others say he was the last honest man in a rotten world. We say: he was the beginning.
Now we carry that name into the stars.
We’re the ones you hire when you need a ship breached, a syndicate bled, or a war ended with finality. We don’t hold ground. We take it. We don’t follow leaders. We follow the job—and the iron law of consequence.
You want mercy? Call the Navy. You want results? Call the Nine.
“You have to be realistic about these things.”
— The First Ninefingered One
We are not soldiers.
We are not saviors.
We are not here to wave flags or die for causes we don’t believe in.
We are the hammer that falls when words fail.
The boot that steps through your airlock.
The last face you see when everything else is on fire.
We are The Bloody Nine.
We carry the name of a man who didn’t fight for peace—only survival. A man who did what had to be done, no matter the cost. A man who was honest about what the world really is: unforgiving, savage, and ruled by those willing to kill for it.
In his name, we remember:
Mercy is weakness.
Loyalty is earned in blood.
No one is coming to save you.
We take the contracts others won’t.
We finish the fights others start.
We don’t do clean.
We do finished.
If you want justice, hire lawyers.
If you want order, call the UEE.
If you want results, call the Nine.
You have to be realistic about these things.
