Message to: Everyone except the bloody duck.
Comm ID: Don Quixote
*Tap Tap Tap* Is this thing on? Ahoy!
Decision of indecision has decided after much pondering and little help from Eris
regarding what to do with the old IMG rustbucket questionably labeled a gunboat.
A few junkers were called in and they happily ran off with the dismantled scrap.
In it's place I took possession of a brand new Corvo cruiser complete with
shag carpeting and the nostalgic fuzzy dice. I am also pleased to announce that the
trusty hookah made the transfer with little damage and is now powering the Corvos
navigation system. It's no wonder I haven't managed to find my way out of Baffin
for months now... Come visit onboard, take the tour, befriend the hookah and ignore talking duck.
COMM ID: Cid
Message To: Shamus and the fellas
RE: Neural Net Pics of new Popett...
Holy Smokes Shamus. If you could still do it, you'd be salutin' twice. I b'in hearin' all o'er 'bout t'is new lass and her photospread somewhere once upon a time. Half me bleedin' crew is flubberin' over this little chickey, and I ain't gettin' a thing done. Let's welcome her and get some clothes on her before it all goes to crap. ::Grins widely::
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Their Doc sits, finally getting through much of his overdue paperwork at the desk of his Baffin office in Shasta when a courier bangs on the door. Doc get's up, puts his Ambassador's robes on and answers to find a young Zoner out of breath.
"Sorry, Mr. Ambassador," he says through panting for breath, "but they have been trying to call you from the communications office."
"Relax, Kid and have a seat," he replies, handing him a bottle of water, "I shut my link off so that I could work. What's up?"
"This, Mr. Ambassador," he says, holding up a picture received of a half naked female captain.
Doc looked at the picture, looked at the courier and then again at the picture. He then nodded and handed it back to the courier.
"Fine looking young lady she is. So, um, what gives?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing, Sir, this is spreading like wildfire. She's hot and one of us here in TAZ," the hormonally run young courier went on.
Doc just nodded, "I see."
He then turned to his desk and took his own picture off and handed it to the courier simply with a "here."
"Sir, she's.....beautiful. Who is she?" the courier asked.
"That, Son, is my bride-to-be," he answered, snatching the picture away from the youngster and placing it back on the desk, "now, unless you have something of importance to tell me, Young Man, I am busy."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, "just, do leave your com link up? The station captain would be most appreciative." Doc only nodded in acknowledgment as the courier took his water and left the office.
Doc then sat down and rubbed his eyes for a moment and finally snickered a bit and softly said "teenagers" as he shook his head and chuckled.
Geetings members of the Temporary Autonomous Zoners. My name is Carmen Naso. Attorney by trade, fisherman by hobby.
I have recently had my researchers do some digging into this whole Gran Canaria mess for you, and we turned up some interesting results here. I hope that you are all pleased with the results. If need be, I can conduct further research into this matter.
As for now, I am on retainer with the TAZ. Contact me here if you need anything further.
My bill for this reasearch amounts to 1,852 credits per hour, and in total, 16 hours were spent. Either that amount of a fishing trip on Malaclypse's tab for me and my crew. Bring lots of beer.
Quote:My bill for this reasearch amounts to 1,852 credits per hour, and in total, 16 hours were spent. Either that amount of a fishing trip on Malaclypse's tab for me and my crew. Bring lots of beer.
How about both!
Fine work, Carmen. Suite 235 in the Simon Towers is reserved for you and your staff, and the "Fishing Fool" is fully staffed at Quay "E" for Eris. Take her out, I'll be along as soon as I can!
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Location: Shasta Outpost, Baffin System
Sitting at his desk, Ambassador Holliday once again can't sleep. The door on the far wall is closed to his quarters as the lovely Midori soundly sleeps. Needing some form of occupation, he fires up his com systems and begins checking for any late night messages. Low and behold, he has a few, one of which is from Malcalypse.
"Aaargh! Doc, read this and get back to me as soon as possible."
It is a message from a lawyer on behalf of Bowex. As he reads it, he grows angrier by the word. As he reads, he starts saying the words in a whisper, then a soft talk and then finally a loud talk. "....Finally, the databases and publications are correct, and the planet is indeed named 'Sydney', please have the courtesy to update your own records as such, in compliance with the law..."
His temper again flares, getting the best of him. He slams his fists on the desk and shoots to his feet, talking out loud to himself in anger,
"Scum sucking, no good, worthless, Bretonian pompous ass!" he mutters in anger, "update my records in accordance with the law." He then screams at the com, "UPDATE YOUR RECORDS YA NO GOOD...."
He then catches himself and as fast as he exploded, he settled back down with a couple of deep breaths. As he stood looking out the window in an effort to try and contain himself further, a set of soft hands came from behind and began massaging his shoulders.
"It is OK, John," her soft voice said, "do not get so upset." Still filled with rage, he said nothing, not wanting to hurt someone he loved so dearly.
"Come, John, try to sleep. You need your strength," she said. He just turned to her and gave a weak smile.
He then put is arm around her and they escorted one another to bed.