(Didn't realize I'd handed out promotions to y'all. I can retire!)
You may have noticed my little "notice" to Burton and his GSTeasers..
Here's how we'll play it, Temple Guards: We wait.
The response and further Invocations should be a joy to our Blessed Lady of HodgePodge.
If they come on by, just shoo them throo, unless true snarkiness is demonstrated. If provoked, feed them to the Scrubbies!
Depending on "diplomatic" responses, we may put the whole matter in the cabbage patch, merely ban them from Bafflin', or Goddess forbid, be forced to get out the "Rubber Rose".
Speaking of Scrubbies, we're back in business! I checked prices at Sedona first thing this evening, and lo and behold, we've managed enough volume to see a significant drop in "sell" price. Check it out, traders.
It's a brave New World, my Popes and Tsars. Give thanks, and Sally Forth renewed and secure in thy... Stuff!
Ha, too much flax makes the right hand think its the left hand , which forgets what the right hand was going to convey. Bagh, leave it to Eris to stir things up abit, no disrespect implied, merely a slip in Chao ....err sumthin like dat..
Hey...Kusari is not really impressed with my bomber currently. workin on the Guard attack formations with the GMG. So you know how that goes, I'm sure. I'll get my computers to a more friendly scream and swing by. I still need to get something nice for Pam. She hasn't really forgiven me for selling her ship. Maybe you can help me find jsut the right thing. As for the rum, yeah, its a stout little nip I tell ya. Called Stroh 80, 80% alcohol, so beware when firing up after a shot, it IS flamable. Heh, I learned that the hard way...
All hail Discordia, speaking of Discord, Eris has prompted Gen.Pan to head towards O-49. A new addition has also been spotted in O-74
[TAZ]Golden.Apple and Apostle.Karathud has been busy upholding diplomatic matters in O-49 but is rumored to be planning an evangical reunion in Tau-29.
After many hours of warning about being too close to the docking ring in O-49 BH-Endeavor was finnaly forced to move as his unruly ursurping of Zoner authority was setting a painfully bad example and trying every Zoners patience. Gen.Pan, Zoners Firewater and the mighty Yoda began a countdown til physical force for removal would be applied, the commander of the Endeavor at countdowns end decided it was best to self suicide into our beloved planet then face the oncoming Zoner wrath for repeated denial of our wishes...
Whoa, Gen.Pan.. you are a busy boy! You're buyin' ships and balancing Chaos faster than I can update the Rooster!
Speaking of,
A warm welcome to an old [ELF] Pope who got lost in the Ozone of Oz.
For his lapse of Faith, Willy (dat's Villy mit der "V") Scream has volunteered to do Penance as part-time Scrubby Ranger, part-time Temple Warden and Tour Guide, and Refugee shuttle for those poor souls stranded at Holman.
@Comm_open
@From: Pope Wilhelm Scream
@To: The Epi
Where am I? Oh yes.... lovely to be here!
Pretty quiet, running stuff about. Gotta ease the firin' hand back into it. Still, it's not all plain sailing... a bit of leftover weed in the cracks, and those passengers don't want to get off the dern ship... anyone would think they eat the stuff. Lick the scrubbies right off the hull plating....
Back to the hanging thing, got some serious staring at the geode to be done... purdy.........
Comm ID: I.K.S. Vor'cha
To: All TAZ
Subject: Gran Canaria
Neq'neh!
My crew and I are greatly disturbed after today. We smell something and we don't like it one bit. We headed out for some patrol around Omega 49 due to heavy activity when we spot two Bowex transports, the Chamberlain and Mountbatten. Enclose are guncam shots where the Chamberlain refers to our Zoner home world as Sydney to which I promptly correct him only to be told by the Mountbatten, "Hey, Zoner! Bretonian have this place charted as Sydney." After a few more words, they left.
I think we need to find out what's going on. Is Bretonia, in response to their losing territory to Kusari, moving in our world? Are they so clueless to notice that we live there? The deuterium and niobium supplies are ours, not theirs! At least the IMG have asked to be there.
I think this needs prompt attention. We Klingons have lost one home world. We will be damned if we lose another to a bunch of imperialists.
Posts: 8,105
Threads: 731
Joined: Aug 2008
Staff roles: Moderator
Comm ID: [TAZ]Doc Holliday
To: Commander Matok
RE: Gran Canaria
Very interesting, Matok. This is a matter of great concern indeed. Do us a favor and let the CoZ take this up or since I live on Canaria, I'll scratch the surface of this issue. Keep your head cool and your guns quiet for now.
I guess they don't know that Gran Canaria was discovered by a Zoner expedition in 769 AS. Of course, if they weren't such imperialists as you said, they would do their homework a bit more.
David Fenderson stepped off the St. Gulik at the dusty spaceport on Planet Houston. He didn't often come here, but he needed help, and this was precisely the place to find it. He wandered through the city's streets, trying to remember the way to his destination. Normally, walking the streets of Houston's main city could be dangerous for a lone man, but the laser pistol and Kusari-made katana on his belt, and the ease of which he carried himself in his combat armor did much to discourage the average hooligan.
After a bit of searching, he finally found the place. It was a small tavern, and the locals seemed to be giving it a wide berth. Above the door, there was a sign with the Klingon's distinctive tri-bladed symbol, and some writing in pIqaD, the Klingons' written language. The writing posed no trouble for David, as he had invested a considerable sum into a Linguist 2000 neural implant, and had it programmed for tlhIngan' Hol, in addition to the more common languages of Sirius. He knew that Commander Korg of the IKS Gon'Shar often frequented this place when the Gon'Shar was in port. He took a deep breath and walked through the door.
The interior of the tavern was poorly lit, which seemed to be the standard for Klingon-made structures. There were a fair number of Klingons in the tavern, though the place was not full. They had all gone silent and their eyes were fixed firmly on Dave. It was not every day that a human walked through the door. He ignored their looks, and walked straight up to the bar. The bartender looked him over, clearly unimpressed.
"What's the matter? Lost?"
"No, I'm exactly where I mean to be. Give me a drink."
"I think you'll find Klingon drink to be too strong for you, tera'ngan. Shall I have one of the females breastfeed you?"
At that, laughter erupted all around the bar. Dave was less than impressed, but he knew he was being tested. He glared at the bartender.
"I can handle anything you throw my way, whether it be strong drink, or strong women! Get me a mug of Chech'tluth and a plate of Racht! And make sure the Racht is fresh!"
The bartender's face split into a grin, and he laughed.
"Very good, sir! You'll find our Racht is the freshest in all of Sirius!"
With that, the bartender stepped into the back room for a moment. Dave used that time to look around the bar. He saw Commander Korg sitting in the corner at his customary table. He also saw a Klingon female in full battle armor at the end of the bar looking right at him. It seemed that he impressed more than the bartender. She was larger and more muscular than most human women he knew, and had the distinctive cranial ridges and sharp teeth common to all Klingons. Her hair was a fiery red that he knew was not a common shade amongst Klingons. All in all, he didn't find her at all unattractive.
Before he could consider further, though, the Bartender returned with his food. He took the plate of writhing worms, and his steaming mug, and went towards Commander Korg's table. As he approached the table, Commander Korg looked up from his meal.
"David Fenderson! What do you want!"
"Korg, still as polite as always, I see!"
"Bah. Politeness is for the weak. What brings you to Houston?"
"I need an experienced co-pilot. The Hathor-class gunboat is a bit tougher to handle on my own than the Conference is. Commander Matok told me you might be able to help."
"Why come to me? Experienced pilots are about as common as fleas on a targs ass."
"I assume you've been following recent events in Omega-49? The Bretonians are making moves on our territory, and the council seems content to remain blind to the threat they represent. I fear for the future of everything we've worked for, and I'm not prepared to allow it to be taken from us. It pays to be ready for anything, and as such I want the best, and for that, I need a Klingon."
"Hmm... I agree that something needs done, even if the Council is too blind to see it. I think I can help you. I'll send one of my officers your way before you leave. Now, come. Drink!"
With that, both Dave and Korg lifted their mugs and drained their contents.
-><-
Dave awoke the next morning aboard the St. Gulik, his head pounding. Klingon drink always gave him the worst hangovers. It took him a moment to orient himself, but he climbed out of bed, washed himself off and dressed. Then he took some anti-intoxicant pills, which he used mostly to clear up hangovers. After a few minutes, his head cleared. He looked out the ships forward viewport, and stepping onto the landing pad, he saw the distinctive form of a Klingon. He opened the ship's access hatch, and walked down the ramp to meet his new co-pilot. As the Klingon approached, Dave saw the warrior's red hair, and abruptly realized that it was the female from the bar. When she got to the ships ramp, she stopped directly in front of Dave.
"nuqneH, Captain Fenderson. Lieutenant Mara reporting for duty."