11 members
Windwolves / WNDWLF
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Bounty Hunting -
Freelancing
We do whatever. Just here to have fun.
History
Origin in the Ashes of Vega II
The Windwolves were born in fire.
In 2945, during the catastrophic Vanduul assault on Vega II (Aremis), several UEE Navy units were overwhelmed, and command structures collapsed under the onslaught. Amid the chaos, a small group of disillusioned special forces operatives—led by Commander Elias Thorne—held the line to evacuate civilians through improvised corridors, buying precious time with blood and tactics. They called themselves “the last wind,” referring to the dying breath of resistance on the planet.
When the battle ended, and the UEE spun a story of heroism that left many forgotten, Thorne and his surviving unit walked away from the military. Disillusioned but not broken, they disappeared into the stars.
The Pack Forms
Over the next five years, Thorne and his scattered veterans reconnected across various frontier systems—Ferron, Nexus, Pyro—working freelance contracts, building a reputation as elite mercenaries who could get the job done when no one else could. They operated under the radar, coordinating with old comms encryption protocols and adopting the wolf as their symbol: nomadic, loyal, and deadly in a pack.
In 2950, with the outbreak of instability in systems bordering Vanduul space and a rise in pirate syndicates in Stanton and Nyx, the group officially founded Windwolves PMC—a name symbolizing swift mobility, calculated aggression, and loyalty to the mission above politics.
Reputation Built in the Grey
Windwolves rapidly became known for three things: stealth, precision, and ruthlessness with a code. They accepted contracts few others would touch—retrieving kidnapped VIPs from Nine Tails strongholds, sabotaging outlaw fuel refineries in the Pyro system, or extracting valuable assets from derelict settlements under siege.
Despite their growing fame, they never overexpanded. Windwolves remained a tight-knit force with a selective recruitment process, often choosing soldiers who had been burned by the UEE but still held a personal code of conduct. They answered to no government, no corporate boardroom—only their contract and their creed.
The Battle of Cinder Reach (2952)
Their legend was cemented during the Battle of Cinder Reach—a month-long conflict in an unclaimed asteroid belt between a rogue AI warlord and a mining collective. Windwolves were hired to break the blockade. Over the course of 16 days, they ran silent infiltration ops, hijacked enemy drone relays, and turned the AI’s own network against itself. Not a single civilian ship was lost under their protection.
The operation was never formally acknowledged by the UEE—but in hushed conversations between corporate execs and security firms, Windwolves became the go-to name for problems too dirty for official channels.
Present Day
Now operating out of their mobile capital-class command ship, the Grey Gale, Windwolves remain an enigma in the ’Verse. Their members wear no uniform—only a wolf insignia marked in crimson. They don’t advertise. They don’t grandstand. And if you hear their engines echo in the void, it’s already too late.
They are ghosts with guns, warriors of the grey space between law and chaos. They are the Windwolves.
Manifesto
Swift as the Wind. Silent as the Wolf.
We are Windwolves.
We are the blade in the fog, the howl in the void, the last voice when all others fall silent.
We were born from betrayal, forged in forgotten wars, and tempered in the cold vacuum of indifference. Where empires retreat and corporations count credits, we stand. We are not loyal to flags or propaganda — we are loyal to the mission, to the pack, and to the code.
I. The Creed
We serve no throne.
We fight for balance — not for law, not for anarchy.
Our contracts are chosen. Our clients are vetted.
We do not wage war for tyrants. We do not guard those who exploit.
We take the mission, or we don’t — and once taken, it is completed without compromise.
II. The Pack
No Windwolf fights alone.
We live and die by the strength of the pack.
We train, we bleed, and we learn together.
We do not leave our own behind.
Loyalty is earned, not demanded — and betrayal is answered in kind.
III. The Shadow Code
Speed. Precision. Silence.
We strike before we are seen.
We prefer the scalpel to the hammer — but we wield both.
We adapt, we improvise, we endure.
Glory is irrelevant. Results are everything.
IV. The Line
There is a line we will not cross.
We do not kill for sport.
We do not target the defenseless.
We do not traffic, torture, or silence the innocent.
When the line is tested, we walk away — or we burn the table.
V. The Mission
We operate in the grey to prevent the black.
We are the ones called when peace fails and chaos rises.
We recover what others abandon. We protect what others exploit.
We do not promise salvation — we promise resolution.
We are not a mercenary cartel.
We are not thugs in armor.
We are Windwolves — forged in the wild and loyal to the cause of balance through calculated force.
If you want safety, hire a guard.
If you want results, call a corps.
But if you want silence, precision, and fire beneath the wind —
You call us.
Charter
- Most are former UEE Navy, Marines, Advocacy agents, or frontier security forces — people who saw the cracks in the system and chose freedom over blind obedience.
- They retain elite training, but operate with autonomy. Discipline is internal, not enforced.
- Not loud. Not flashy. No bravado.
- They let results speak — whether it’s escorting a convoy through Vanduul space or extracting a hostage from a Nine Tails warlord without firing a shot.
- They live by a personal code — not necessarily “good,” but never without purpose.
- They don’t kill civilians, don’t break contracts, and don’t take jobs that serve tyrants or abusers. If a client crosses the line, the Windwolves walk — or retaliate.
- Each member is a tactician. They prefer stealth and surgical precision to brute force.
- They train in multiple ship roles: pilot, EVA combat, boarding, hacking, recon, field repair — whatever gets the job done.
- They can operate alone, but thrive as a pack — coordinated, silent, deadly.
- Trust within the PMC is absolute. Betrayal is unforgivable, and bonds forged in battle are often lifelong.
- Many carry trauma — from the war, from betrayal, from personal loss.
But instead of breaking, it focuses them. Their pain fuels their purpose: to protect others from suffering what they did.
- Sleek, utilitarian armor. Customized loadouts. No corporate logos or flashy paint — just the red wolf insignia, often etched, painted, or marked in blood.
- Ship preferences lean toward stealth-capable or multi-role crafts: Sabre, Valkyrie, Cutlass Black, Redeemer, Mercury Star Runner (for recon/ops), and the occasional capital-class command ship.
