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+--- Thread: QCP Roll Call (/showthread.php?tid=34118)
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QCP Roll Call - Andrew_Bonesovich - 02-03-2010
It was quiet around, the Tau gate construction site was nearly abandoned, just a few miners and workers were here. Remoteness of this station was perfect for Privateers. Michael Geare was one of them.
Michael's last few nights were spent in local bar, spending all his money on booze and women, and the rusty Challenger in hangar was used only as a place he'd sleep. His Eagle didn't see space even longer.
This night, he was returning back from the bar pretty drunk, as always. As he slowly climbed up into the ship, he saw a message light bleeping on the ship's desk. He opened the message, and started reading. After reading it three times before he realized what it is, he's sent a simple reply.
"This is Mich. I'm alive."
QCP Roll Call - lw'nafh - 02-04-2010
>>Incoming<<
>>ID:Arnie Rimmer<<
*A brown haired man in a spic uniform appears on the screen, holding a blonde-haired, pale white doll*
This is Arnold J. Rimmer, and Wibbles. We're here.
>>Cut<<
QCP Roll Call - Blodo - 02-04-2010
Comm ID: Finn Hopkins, Her Majesty's Interdiction and Boozer Drainage
Location: Luxury Liner Shetland, Edinburgh
I say, lads! This 'ere lux liner is the stuff of legends, it is. Don't know where old Stuart sodded off too, but I'm still 'ere. Though with all that commotion going on with them bloody Zoners and other proles I've done and lost my Templar, managed to save only this 'ere Chally. So until we gets me a fighter, I'll only be able to pillage traders and blow up slanted battlecruisers, maybe some of that Zoner juggy bollocks too. But that's all right with you's lot isn't it?
Now, what do we dismember next?
QCP Roll Call - MarvinCZ - 02-08-2010
[Incoming Transmission]
[Comm ID: Nobby Preston]
Hello there, chaps!
I'm still around and kicking. You can find me in the bar most of the times, as usually.
Nobby
[Transmission terminated]
QCP Roll Call - Dieter Schprokets - 02-08-2010
Salty Bob said nothing.
Just lay at the bar in a comatose state.
Everyone was better off when Salty was in that state.
QCP Roll Call - Belco - 02-08-2010
Earl Darlington woke up with a start as he fell forwards out of the captains seat on the bridge of the Earl Grey.
cursing to himself, he pulled himself up, dusting himself off and looked around the empty bridge, stumbling over to the large bridge windows overlooking the mooring fixtures of Gibraltar base.
"How in Gods name did we get here and where the hell are all my crew?!" he shouted to himself, his gruff roar echoing in the large finely decorated bridge.
confusion quickly turned to anger as his eyes narrowing at the sound of approaching footsteps and polite coughing behind him.
Darlington turned swiftly, too swiftly for a man of his stature, his large gut swinging around his body like a hula hoop under it's own momentum sending him crashing to the floor again, his foot high powdered wig spinning off to rest at the the feet of the petty officer that has disturbed him.
"My liege, you've been asleep for sometime, we've returned to Gibraltar in the absence of any orders for the few days you have been unconscious, most of the crew are taking shore leave in the bar as we speak."
"Good show" Darlington replied, rolling around on the floor, reaching under his bloated body to pull out his pocket watch, carefully winding it and resetting it to the current time. "anything else to report?"
"Sir Dobson wants to know if we're still privateers my liege" the petty officer reported, walking over to the elaborately decorated comms units and bringing up the transmission on the large screen mounted on the back of the bridge.
"Of course we're still privateers you dolt!" he shouted at the screen, pushing himself up to sit cross legged on the deck, his tight pantaloons ripping along the crotch.
"Now officer, i am peckish after my slumber, have the chef prepare me a batch of jam and scones at once and for gods sakes get me some new pantaloons!"
the petty officer exited the brige quickly, chased by Darlingtons yells, "and a pot of tea..... and a new wig... and... and..... and invite the queen for a banquette again!"
puffing and panting in the tight Victorian garments that were the dress code aboard the Earl Grey, he broke into a run. It was best to look busy around the captain, even if he would forget the orders by the time he returned.