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>>The data below charts the final exchange between Doctor Raymond Wallace, CW| Affiliated Freelancer and Councillor Nadeau, open for tracing by CW| Marked salvage crews<<

"Bonjour the most recent addition to what I could call my... less riposte-inducing compadres."

*Grins welcomingly*

"Of course I do not wish to seem possessive - that would implicate a lack of recognition for the communications we have already exchanged, your visitation to the Freeport for instance, our viewing of that incomparable lightshow during Robert's Southernmost sojourn into the Magellanic system. 'Four is a miraculous Freeport, is it not? The taint of a militaristic occupation by Rex Libertine only serves to add a particular, ah, essence of the fallen - a melancholy, which only furthers appreciation for the qualities lost."

"Through contemplations such as this we can discover what it means to be humane humans ami, people who exist for the lavishment of the eternal mean, ourselves. Situated between the twin poles of chaos and boredom, it is down to us to peruse the selection offered by both extremes, to pitch this way and that as the demands of life will.... society is such a chain, at times."

Picks up grape from a bowl of surprisingly succulent, terrestrial fruits. After inspecting the item thoroughly, he swallows it theatrically in one swift, singular mastication before facing the camera again.

"But to business - professional business that is, one that should tingle both of our pallets, in mutual interest. So lend me your ear Sir, and you will hear my proposal".

"My department (for you are aware of my present employment, surely), is filled full of eager, capable, competent minds such as yourself, all sucklings upon the teats of the mother universe, and one of then requires a fresh cache of a particular family of microorganisms, namely, the stellar-based blighters of the omicron edge nebula, the riders of the solar winds, the fertilizers of planets, the seedlings of Sirius. You Sir, share a common goal with that scientist; kindred spirits as it were, twin archers, seeking a sole and virtuous mark. Perhaps you may strike home, hmm?"

"...speaking frankly, I have the capability to field you an extravagantly over funded laboratory bordering his, to collaborate on the same project, with a copious monthly salary as part of the payoff. If any of the above sounds tantalising to you (and I expect it does), then perhaps you could obtain fifty metric tonnes of each of the following, hmm?"

The first item: Blue Diamonds

[Image: blue+Diamond_rare_expensive.jpg]

[Image: blue+Diamond_rare_expensive.jpg]

Reasoned simply, Diamond makes for excellent prisms, and I lie in the need for as much cut, refined, high-grade gemstone as I could possibly obtain. Additionally, I have a particular 'Doctor' in my... our fraternity which sees the average particle cannon as a fetish item. The point is evident.

The second item: Alien organisms

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[Image: bacterias-artificiales-198x198.jpg]

As aforementioned, the man concerned (for, sexually, he is one), is as in need of these creatures as you are yourself. Note, I lust for the various sub-varieties found within the edge nebulas and/or the outer sigma systems, not those scrubby irritances the Baffinites pedal to every man and his panther. You can do better than that, friend.

Let me know what you think of the proposal, for surely, your task is great and requires such cranial exertion in foresight. As to providing evidence of the import, it is simple. Provide photographical data (you know the saying, "Pics or it didn't happen"?) of the commodities in your cargo hold, along with proof of transaction at the Freeport Ten Commodity dealer; he will take the goods from you, as issued.

Goodbye ami, I trust your days are now suitably busied, yes?

Remember - fifty units. Each.

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:: Incoming Transmission ::

>>> Recieving Signal...Please Wait <<<

:: Transmission Recieved ::

>>> [Image Unavailable] <<<
>>> Comm ID: Doctor Raymond Wallace <<<
>>> Location: RV Calibrator, Tau 37 <<<
>>> Detecting Encryption: Levels High <<<

:: Relaying Message ::

Ah, greetings, Mister Nadeau. Please pardon the less than modern technology, I had to settle for the budget edition of the Border Worlds Transport.

-Wallace leans back in the pilot's chair, a cup of tea lying on the control panel in front of him. Piles of paperwork and metal crates are littered around the cramped cockpit.-

I wasn't really expecting a message, especially at that time of day, so I apologize for the delay. I just got back from resupplying at Freeport 10, actually. The Gallics got the old ship a tad shaken up, so I had to park her for an actual repair session, unlike my touch and go on Harris.

While I was on Freeport 10, I made sure to check out the amenities on the station while I had the chance, and I have to say, great work on desiging the place. It's a nice place to stay, and I applaud you all for your decisions in interior design.

-Smoke can be seen coming out of a closed door, in the background.-

Oh, that's not a good sign, one second, please.

-Wallace leaps out of his chair and frantically pushes a series of buttons, unlocking the door and allowing the smoke to escape. He runs in, grabs a fire suppression device, and goes off camera, only to come back minutes later. He flips a switch and turns on an exhaust fan, absorbing the remainder of the smoke.-

Hehe. I uh, left my muffins in the oven for too long. Burned them by mistake, just dreadful. Look at it, terrible!

-He holds a tray of pitch black, steaming muffins up to the camera, and then tosses them aside.-

Anyways, onto the matter at hand, then. Fifty units of Diamonds and Alien Organisms?

The alien organisms are a walk in the park, the Far Omicrons are practically crawling with the things. I'll be sure to pick some up from my next trip.

Diamonds...well, I might have a few troubles getting my hands on some of those, but there's nothing that this trusty old Border Worlds Transport (Or Charon Cannons...) can't do.

Tell your Commodity Manager to be ready, because I'll likely roll in some time tomorrow.

-He pats the control panel, and then reaches for the cup of tea. -

If you need anything else, just send another transmission on this frequency, and I'll try my best to deliver.

Over and out.

Signed,
Doctor Raymond Wallace

"Tomorrow? Well my man, how very rapid of you. And of course - attend to your muffins; one should never neglect one's teacakes at times of pressing urgency, besides, on-ship fires in an oxygen-rich environment such as this yours (or mine) can prove particulary... debilitating, hm?"

"Thank you friend for accepting my (entirely optional) offer. Take as little rush as you need - wouldn't wish for you to be overtly uneconomical with your H-fuel consumption, would we now?"

"...And as to your use of older version of the Border Worlds Transport, well, hm, perhaps we may 'improve' that a tad eh? Overhauls can be remarkably cheap."

"Till success."

[Image: MF7w7K1.png]

Greetings once again, Mister Nadeau.

-Wallace appears a tad bit shaken up.-

I cast off from Freeport 10 this morning with the intent of acquiring the materials which you requested, and I completed the trip at around 11:20 AM, Cambridge Standard Time. Both the Organisms and the Diamonds are currently in the hands of the Freeport 10 Commodity Manager.

-He leans back in his chair, a cup of tea on the control panel in front of him again.-

First off for me were the Alien Organisms, and I traveled out to the far Omicrons to gather the finest specimens I could find. Attached here is a photorecording of my cargo inside of Freeport 10 *. Afterwards, I spoke with your Commodity Manager, and he promptly took the little guys off of my hands. I gathered an original amount of 60 Organisms, for an added bonus, but it appears that 5 of the little guys perished during the voyage home. Attached here is an image of the receipt that I was given by the Manager. *

-He shifts around in his seat, something obviously bothering him.-

Next up were the Diamonds you asked for, and I had to dig around quite a bit in the dirtiest of places to find some. Did you know that Orbital Spa & Cruise are a band of dirty liars? Indeed! I followed advertisements for high quality, grade-A diamonds and ended up on Planet Curacao, and there weren't any there! Instead, I just found a load of overpriced, shoddy quality liners and sub-par hotel rooms that cost an arm and a leg! Dreadful, just absolutely dreadful. I ended up taking a trek throughout Rheinland until I landed in Omega-11, and then purchased a package of diamonds from their salesmen.

-He shudders.-

On the way back, however, I encountered the oddest thing... In Tau 29, I jumped through from Baffin, only to find that a monstrosity followed me through. Attached here is an image that I managed to catch, and of course, the arrogant captain of the vessel demanded the co-pilot that I hired on Curacao! Only the Gods know what they did to him. A Colonial Carrier arrived shortly to confront the tentacle-y demon, and the darn thing turned purple and disappeared! My lord!

Nonetheless, I completed the remainder of the journey relatively unharmed, and I have evidence of the delivery of diamonds here. **

As always, if you have any other requests, feel free to send a message on this frequency.

Over and out.

Signed,
Doctor Raymond Wallace

Resubmitting transmission. You did receive everything as planned, correct?

Over and out.

Signed,
Doctor Raymond Wallace

*Looks slightly out of breath*.

"Hm, a day; merely an allowance for relativistic delays, but four? Rudeness incarnadine, obviously...

...Unless you consider the fact that Freeport Ten is operating off Ill De France Standard Mean Time, in which case, you're merely being inconsiderate. But let us denounce that unplesant possiblity for the moment hmm, and explore the hypothetical circumstance that it is in fact, me, who is in the wrong here."

"Ah Sir, humour my near-irreconcilable delay in responding to your most benevolent boon - you must think me a poor man to work for. Be that as it may… may not completely be, take pleasure in the fact that I am attending to you now, Sir, and any future communiques to my person will be answered as fluidly as one possibly can achieve within a twenty-four hour timeframe packed to rupturing full of tenuous delights."

*Completely out of tone, Achille chuckles irrepressibly*.

"Eh man, you are one after my own soul... 'Shoddy overpriced liners', hah!" *Grins , at first glance, genuinely*.

"Whilst the diamonds are lacking a particular 'blueness' to their tint, the matter is inconsequential; nothing a little marination in a bath of pleblian food colouring cannot adequately fix. The organisms are indeed first-rate, and as we presently converse are swimming merrily round, round and round again their adorable saline jars - one wonders what they must be contemplating now, hmm?"

*Lets off a second smile with a crack of a slender knuckle.*

"...Sir, you have provided me with a considerable boon, and dealt expediently with a potentially calamitous cost. The relief delivered from both is quite filling - indeed, I am, that is to say, "we" are, to an extent indebted to you. Not so much that our existences depended upon it, or worse, our fortunes, but enough to further our collective advancement. Oh, and mutual advancement of course; you will be anticipating some degree of recompense for your ardour's, hmm? Quite, of course you would, It'd require one of completely distrustful disposition to do so (never put faith in a philanthropist, friend)."

"…Since I am not one, then, consider me to be a man of my word. Or woman of my word you be so creatively inclined. Therefore, let me render my reward threefold:"

All you need to know about prize one, in his own words.

"The personage I mentioned earlier is an ex-Rheinland citizen, ex-Cryer Pharmaceuticals, who also happens to be a member of the Commonwealth Inner Circle but you didn't hear that from me. His name is Earnst Rheinhart, and his quite probably the most astounding biochemical virtuoso in the Tau regions… or anywhere else outside of Atka. I'm sure you people will get on swimmingly".

"…And to further that co-operation, permit me to present prize two, a considerably over-scaled apartment situated snugly upon deck Nine within the Freeport Ten central superframe, which happens to be the most bombardment-proof area in the facility itself (note the absence of windows). The room possesses it's own basic life support in the extremely unlikely eventuality some unimaginative particular does see fit to reduce us to a gigantic, burning steel coffin. We are sitting on a cardimine jugular one knows".

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"Thirdly, I offer this; my shrine, my temple to the wonders of the cosmos, for your perusement. After all, what's the point of merely meeting a man if you cannot dabble around in his place of work, hmm?"

Prize three, don't abuse it ami.

"…Just don't fiddle with any crates with ginormous CW shadow Ravens etched into their planes and you should find the experience quite delightful. Such containers… tend to react in a paranoid manner when interfered with by none-fraternals, if you appreciate me".

*And with little more to be said, lunges to terminate the transmits…*

"Nono, I lie brilliantly but in this instance inappropriately; there is one more offer, Sir, if you will permit me: Would you perhaps deign to work with… ahem, for, me again? This time for a more financial motivator? It will prove harder Sir, a task more worthy of your considerable talents than merely bartering with some… Libertonian kleptocapitalist".

"…So, fellow. Will you chance your hand anew?"

I suppose my answer to your proposal could be summed up with a single word.

Yes.

Over and out.

Signed,
Doctor Raymond Wallace

*Grins coyly*.

"...Ah, but no glib retort, no questions as to my motivations, no passing remark? How very becoming of you Wallace, I see that you too are a man of trust".

"But, ah, surely Sir, you must have a query. Remember, you have the opportunity to reconsider at any time... but, well, considering your aforementioned acceptance..."

"So ami, as a biologist, how lie your talents of reasoned communication with that organism of considerable note, Homo Sapiens Stupidis? I hear they can be easy to herd".

"Reply in the positive, and I'll continue to forward details. Pardon the necessary restraint".

I thank you for your rather quick response, at quite the convenient time as well! I recently just got back from a joyride around the Tau systems, and I'm quite surprised, really. It's not the cesspool of scum and crime that the Colony News Network made it out to be back in Liberty. Indeed, the journalism in the California system is quite flawed. Truth? Never heard of!

Nonetheless, onto the topic at hand, my communcation skills with...human beings, I suppose? I will have you know that I am capable of reason, unlike many of the clowns who rule over the houses of Sirius, and I do consider myself adept at the art of communication.

And as a side note, you and your organization appear to be a reasonable, reputable band of people, at least from what I've gathered from our encounters. There wouldn't be a reason to deny your proposal in the slightest, really.

Over and out.

Signed,
Doctor Raymond Wallace

*Your compliment as certainly gone down well, Achille appears glowing in self-exultation*

“Well, why, thank you Sir, I accept your (entirely tasteful) praise as to the nature of the fraternity with the open-palmed generosity that is the predicate for any return to a statement such as that”.

“...Indeed, the Libertines...” *Sighs hyperbolically.*

“It is a common fact that the Liberty government as a whole bears only minimalistic respect for the freedom of the Zoner races, or indeed any sort of rebellious autonomy in general. One may only look to their own independents; The Penslyvanian freesystem is now a paltry, servile annex; a client state. The Magellanic Zone’s sole known installation, Freeport Four, a monument to decades of self-determination and the progenitor of what we now moniker the Independent Miners Guild has been swept from its constituents by the very government which prides itself upon commanding the supposedly “Free World”. This is erroneous – irrelevant, vote mongering, vainglorious showboating, a gauze of gaudy phrases to hide a wealth of corruption (and not the positive kind, most aggrievingly ), ill-organised social-cleansing enforced by a pseudo-democracy which enforces its own, barely representational judgements through a ludicrously over-scaled military. ‘Chains’ would be a more appropriate title towards the regards of that particular house...”

*Smiles weakly*

“Perhaps it is not tactful of me to insult the house of your birth, no? But the stain is universal... even Gallia possesses its scars, its pusses. Far better to live apart, if you understand me”.

“...So, time being a rarefied, highly perishable commodity that dwindles with each passing instant, let us expediently convert such a good into workable credits. Or rather you will, from my bank balance.”

“...In the fringe systems of the Libertarian spider, there yet remains the odd bastion of freedom. And one of these bastions just happens to be the most successful, most influential research stations outside of Corinth; Ames Research Station, a freelancer base under collaborative operations with the illusive Phoenix Zoners or so the rumors spin. At this present time, the key centres of Zoneric research lie in an extended stellar triangle; Corinth (which is nearly inaccessible due to the present collapse of any form of general order within the Omicron Seventy Four region), the Commonwealth’s own research facility within Deck Thirteen (which I just transferred access codes to you for, if I remember aptly), and Ames, of which I know remarkably less than I conceivably should...”

“...This is where you come in, but this second task (three tasks actually, grouped into one), is also a test of expediency – a time trial if you will...”

“...I require, somebody, anybody (I.E., you, Wallace), to gather intellig.., ahrm, ‘conduct field research on’, Ame’s Research Station’s present research charter. Hence the requirement for people skills – a reasonable degree of dialogue would be appropriate here”.

“Here is your alibi Wallace; you deliver to the station, from Freeport Ten, a cargo of water, then land (no need to contact the station authorities, it is a Freelance installation after all, you hardly need wait for actual docking permission). If you could be so kind to then take a sequence photographs, as to the following data:

- The station’s public infocards.

- The contents of the station’s commodity dealer.

This is where you begin to play the role of the social charmer; like with all research installations, I deem it highly probable that Ames (like most research stations) conducts more than they will publically reveal. Now, I’m sure you’re as aware as I am, nobody enjoys conversing about the nature of their employment more than an intellectual, and the station’s bar will no doubt be full of such inebriated personages. Loose tongues are prone to slip. You are to communicate with such people Wallace, converse with them, sympathise with them and their agencies, and when they finally open their hearts, take a photographic transcription of any dialogue that you deem valuable or informative. Supply runs, jumphole locations, personal stories, any of the like.

Then return to Freeport Ten in the manner to which you are accustomed, with a cargo of supposedly counterfeit software appropriated from the same station (this doesn’t trouble you ethically does it, I do hope not).

...Easy, presumably? Ah, herein lies the ‘catch’... to keep any information you derive present and fresh, any data you provide to me (including evidence of the software provision) here needs to be received before 22:00 SMT on the Ninth of this month. That’s tomorrow, ami. The haste has a reason however; at that pre-mentioned time, the station’s datacore is due for a universal wipe – any information stored after that point will be deleted as well”.

“The prize? Twenty five millon, in credits, to be transferred directly at the same time as the wipe. Note the adverb “directly”, your presence at Freeport Ten to receive the money would be much appreciated – I abhor the insecurities of the indirect neural net transfer”.

“If you do happen to present your presence, I may even throw in an extra bonus – a career advancement, in fact”.

Remember! 22:00 SMT, tomorrow. That is your deadline.

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