This be Matt Myers, speakin' to all ya lazy bums in da LPI. We have a Code 2 emergency, which is second only to Code 1, which is reserved for the donut factory workers going on strike. Code 2 is when a cop-killin' fool kills his way outta jail and then kills one o' our police chiefs on the ground. The foo be called Rawshank, and here be his file.
File-G235R2
If ya sees him, make a show o' bein' huntin' him down, while you hide and wet yerself. He be extremely dangerous, and mean besides.
// OOC: wouldn't do this if he hadn't asked -- make some ruckus if you see him guys
Larry Morrison read the pamphlet aloud to the nearby quivering LPI. For the first time in years, he wasn't the only one shaking in terror. Setting another first, he began addressing the issue.
"Okay guys, I was going to take this forklift to help out Jim, but forget that. Let's go make a bunker."
A pile of nods, and they were off.
So um... I know of a great hiding place for if this guy shows up...
The LSF will keep their eyes and ears wide open for "Rawshank" Lucano.
We have reason to belive that he will meet up with Liberty Rogues or strike a deal with Junkers, fleeing into the deeper regions of Sirius to lay low for awhile.
The Junker's are atleast hospitable, and as my rank holds no authority; I ask you to step up patrols around the Texas and connecting systems to Rheinland Space but do not tresspass on Rheinland Space.
Try to bag him in Libery; Perhaps a higher security prison is needed... Or Execution. The court-hearing will decide.
And while you guys pride yourself in optimum-unusefulness... I have some glazed Cinnamon Danish's in my cargo hold in case the LPI is not doing their job...
Put Rawshank into court again and Ill give you all the Danish's you want, until the Director makes them Illegal and burns all of them but one, and you can take the Illegal Danish to your evidence locker.
Making THAT Danish the best Danish in ALL of Sirius. No greater reward can be the best Pastry in Sirius.
-Walker
Jim turned to look at Jeff. For once, his brother was silent.
"Uh, Jeff? Ain'tcha gonna do something about this fella?"
Jeff just stared at the sheet of paper.
"Jeff?"
"Huh? What? Oh, umm, no. See, a bomber is not very good against a Talon. 'Specially not mine. My ship is anti-cap kitted! How in the blazes am I supposed to do more to a Talon than a few dings?"
"Good point, that."
"Well, looks like we're screwed."
"Yup."