cut to: nondescript but quite large tavern in "downtown".
cut to mcu: puzzled recently retired and more recently indentured ex bounty hunter bartender:
"Where are we going to put that bloody great thing? You can hardly roll the crate through our delivery doors! What's this, then.. a bill of lading.. "Witchy Wares"? A table??
"Oh, alright, unpack the sodding thing. Work's work. Better than the stockade, eh?
*oc* Ahem, I believe as you're the host, Wolf, I shall retire until you're ready to take the floor and present an agenda. Isn't this fun!?! *ic*
*Oh, and I'll be turning off my siggie in this thread, just to keep things brief and to the point. Hmm?*
"Anything happening on the Black Squadron's Comms, Dis?"
*Not a peep, Mal. Do you think we've been offerred tainted cheese again?*
"I don't know, Dis. What I do know is that we've looked at, poked, prodded, and judged every bloody piece of dung within 10 klicks that even remotely resembles a piece of sculpture. And the Dung Festival Awards Banquet is scheduled for noon tomorrow. If Kerberus and the Black Squaddies don't show up soon, I'll go barking mad!" Can you imagine life on this planet without something to keep us occupied? I can't."
*C'mon Mal, chin up. We have that nice Aeon's Christening to attend soon, and we can always watch old Dr. Who reruns. Any marching orders for our mob?*
"Umm,, yeah. Ping Fin, Menno and Gracie, and have them report here by afternoon tea tomorrow. If nothing else we'll have some dancing partners for the bloody Beet Boil-off and Dinner Dance!
"And send a discreet inquiry to the Kerberus. See if they'll share their ETA with us. Hopefully, they're not up to their arses in SSO, and won't be delayed much longer."
*Mal, as soon as you're done decimating that beet-sugar candy, I have some news for you.*
"Anything, Dis. Anything to relieve this mindless tedium. Even the visit from Pops, and overseeing the installation of our new K.G. facility with him only reduced the boredom to merely crushing."
*Well, Mal, the boredom may be about to end. Word is out on the Comms that there's been a shakeup in the Bs| Hierarchy. Wolfpack has stepped down, and turned the reins over to someone called DBoy. He hasn't contacted us either. According to their most recent Faction Status Report. The ELF is neutral to Bs|*
"Then we have eaten our last Gran Canaria turnip, Dis! All our business affairs here are concluded, including accepting an invitation to to be Grand Marshall of next year's Dung Festival. We'll drop back in a month or two to check on the K.G. crop. Right now I can't wait to show the E_A's arse end to this lovely yet archaic cornucopia of civilization."
*I agree wholeheartedly, Malsey. Marching orders?*
"I'll compose a comms to DBoy expressing our regrets that he couldn't attend the festival. Let Aeon and the SCRA know that we'll still provide the Honor Guard for his Christening, but that the Eris_Ascendant has been called away on important business.
"Then put out a sanitized squirt to Fin and Menno. We'll regroup at location "Victor" for a Council session. Events are poppin', Dis, and mostly to the Glory of Her Quirkiness. The locals are even starting construction on a chapel for Our Lady downtown! Let's load up and blow this turnip stand for awhile!
"Oh, and pack up that bloody huge pentagonal table. It'll look great back in the conference room on Amerigo."
::: And so ends the great Peace Talks between the Black Squadron and the Erisian Liberation Front. It would appear there was "peace in the valley" all along.
Never mind. :::
Addendum:
Should have done it by Comms in the first place!
Commander DBoy of the Black Squadron has extended his appendage in a gesture of good will to the E.L.F.
Offer accepted.
Faction Status updated.
By my buttcheek Imprimatur,
Yada Yada,
Mal