~Transmission Blast~
Comm. ID: H. Zinn
Transmit to: Open channel
Uh, hello all. I figured I'd share my latest DSF (deep space findings, you playful laymen).
We discovered the following information floating in the Taus... on some very old looking scrap. Scans are innacurate, but prove to be from at least a thousand years old. Perhaps those Colonial fops have something to do with it.
Anyway, here's what we translated... have a look:
Quote:AND YES, WE HAVE COLD WAR KINGS!
Here's the rules... give 'em a read
Cold War Kings:
A - Space Race - Flip cup between both sides. Losers feel shame.
K - The Social(ism) - From each man according to his thirst, to each man according to his beer. (Drink however much you'd like)
Q - Containment - Nobody can talk to you until the next Q is drawn; if someone does talk to you, nobody can talk to them, either.
J - M.A.D. - Whenever you drink, someone you pick from the other side also drinks (and vice-versa). Lasts until the next J.
10 - Dictatorships - Make a rule!
9 - Collectivization - Everyone takes the same quick sip.
8 - Cuban Missile Crisis - Staring contest between you and someone you pick on the other side. Losing SIDE drinks.
7 - Duck and cover - Last person to duck and cover drinks like it's the end of the world.
6 - Spy tricks - For the rest of the game, you are now on the other side (you defect!).
5 - The Five Beers' Plan - Depends on who picks the card. Americans have to drink for 5 seconds, Reds get to distribute 5 seconds' worth of drinking to others.
4 - Proxy War - The person who picks the card chooses one person on each side to rock-paper-scissors (best of 3). The losing SIDE drinks.
3 - FBI - All Reds drink.
2 - KGB -All Americans drink.
Quite insane, really. Perhaps some sort of pagan religious rite?
Really consult your Pineal glands, friends... and let us know if you've found something deep within! As always, I'll spread my odd findings with the superpals as we find them.
After all, you live and learn. Or you don't live long.
I'll return to Baffin soon, and all other factors permitting, will throw a "housewarming" party of sorts.
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Staff roles: Moderator
Comm ID: [TAZ]Doc Holliday
To: Mal; All TAZ
Subject: Stuff
On the subject of Med.Force.One, I still don't have contact with it. The last round of storms did something to it, even knocking it off course. I'm still trying to get ahold of Commander Haddock. I'll keep you all posted on that. Last known location was just off of Gran Canaria.
Charlie, Sukar and Zinn, welcome aboard. If Mal hasn't already done so, I'll make some roster additions soon.
For now, I am still at my Estate. Between making efforts to get Med.Force back and looking after Midori, I've also found time to do work in my lab.
{~ Incoming Transmission~}
{~ Comms Id: SamsarianS ~}
{~ Source: Freeport1 ~}
{~ Comms Target: TaZ representatives- free popes and that old lad on Baden-Baden ~}
}at the background: dozens of laughing playing children and their shouting mothers. Cacophony from an overpopulated spaceport{
Greetings ...popes
Yes, we are here do not worry at all. We've already started to produce mass amount of Flaxscrip and amulets made of the finest pineals. Too bad that we don't have enough Plastic to help me solving this issue faster...Anyways..
I think we will need your help.
As I've already informed the honored prophets, the popes, most crew members of the Spaceport, and the next three stations most crew members, ahh n I have to mention personally the guy on in the cantine who had that big beard and told me that he can ,,get anything": we just lost one of our main family vessels. It was a train. Erm..The ,,Laocomotivation". It was older than my grandpa (and I must tell you THAT is really old) and rusty like the rotten-metal hell of the Barrel-purgos ( Hell, that is the rustiest place what ever been non-created)
So I've found myself with mey small lil family on a spaceport. For a day it was funny, for three it was okey, but it seems the locals cannot stand us for too long after a week. Pff... I guess they never got this improved-ananchristian-owerlapse on their shiny lil 'port called: samsarians. *smiles* Well...here is what I could use...I mean what I would need:
A ship what is big enough to hold a small or middle sized family of our people ( between 500 and 1500 people) and has decent enough hull and shields to stay alive even in a nastier attack.
We've already purchased a fine BW-Trans, so our belongings and half of my own-personal family already found place- but I think we need an even more decent vessel. A whale would be a true beauty to fly but I am afraid we would end as a huge pile of scrapmetal in that real soon-a bit slow and a bit big for our style. Mey boys are not too experienced in drivin such a huge birdie, and I cannot even drive a heavy-lifter. I was rather think about somthing what could be able to let us explore a bit, since mey nation is not really fancy in living in the same place without moving...you know: the travellers blood. *sighs*
I tell you what: we have enough flax or scrap to purchase any kind o' vessels. Or even a dozens from that any-kind, but somehow when I send out my sons they arrive back usually with...erm I mean IF they arrive back, than usually they bought: 1000tons of wee', 2000bottles of alcoholics, at least 1000tons of shiny things, and like 1000tons of colorful clothes. Ahh ofc in a rusted ship. SO: I rather ask you to find me a suitable vessel-where I could push mey family into.
Ahh and as soon as I will reach the heart of myself, I will purchase a.. erm....just a second *the old man turns from the radio and starts to talk to someone with fast-speed and a weird language*:
-Janika csommhere or I lesmakja. Whodwazzaja hajo whatyo shuweme? HE? De ,,shiny,, Dikamorekaresz..Az...Dikman. Ja....Az....ja.. Jovanna' takaroggya'. - *than he turns back with a huge smile on his face* Okey I am back. so it was... an..erm: ,,conferencier" boat. In yellow. Or lime-green. Ahh and with purple and orange lights. And ..erm...yeah.
We already called for the circle of brahmins and Voivods. We will discuss about the future of our nation, and a few reachable goals ( read: a party with huge pile of old Samsarians smokin together to decide our new targets to be pranked or supported and just to meet with old-seen friends and blood).
We will need a huge ship to solve that, but otehrwise it is a huge caravan anyways, so we jsut pick a place whre every gypsy-rover can meet to praise Eris, drink dance make love and war together.
It is evident that all popes and tazmongers are welcomed there- but it needs a strong stomach (to accept the huge amount of alcohol) an even stronger lung (what did you think whay do other people call us ,,smokeys") a pair of strong legs (to dance for days) and your msot colorful clothes- just to not to garther too mutch unwanted attention with colorless greyfaced shirts- since our people are not really like the colourless or plain coloured clothes under the age of 46 (2*23, total of 1). And nerves. Not everyone is capable to keep his lost-sanity among our children.
Okey popes. We are around- we are waiting for your answer, and we are preparing the Garthering (ak the meeting among our families).
This is all. a confier, and somthing bigger stronger for explore. I will send an incomplete list with mey family member names, and ships what we are able to use up...as soon as the jolly-mood of our precios goddess Eris fades from the space. When she is laughing so many ships screaming. So we rather not try our luck with small vessels in her ion-storms.
And a secret for the end: Sukar means, sweet, beautiful or handsome, free and in soem rare occasions it means: sy-juana. It is kind o' a title among our people used on the honored ones on a level. Even a child can be sukar among his playfriends- or if he declares himself Sukar. It is just something what we use on the trusted and honored freinds.
So: you are all Sukars. As we are all Popes.
The reality is a ballon, but hell.... I still don't know what is it filled with-
luckily I don't even care till the taste is okey.
The word is Sukar, so do life.
yours faithfully: The Sukars of the Samsarians
[color=#6600CC]
{~ Transmission Terminated ~}
{~ Signal Lost ~}
Looks like the ion storm's clearin' up. Time to get the Van fired up. After I've had some coffee. Shasta's been all out since the storm hit and a supply convoy just arrived, at last.
Annette out.
Posts: 8,113
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Sitting at his com, a staticy message arrives.
"Ambassador Holliday, this is Ensign Charles Kent, the communication's officer of Med.Force.One, do you copy?"
Excited and relieved, John Holliday immediately response, "I read you, Ensign, it's good to hear your voice. Is everything OK up there?"
"Not entirely, Sir," he answered, "the storms have wreaked havoc on all communications and some parts of engineering but we're holding on. No lives lost and no significant structural damage. We still have some work to do but we're OK."
"Very well, Ensign," smiled John, "Keep me posted."
With that, John Holliday shut his com down, sat back in his couch with his arms outspread and a rare smile on his face. Yes, relief had arrived.
Just a few slight adjustments to be made on my info there, Doc. I've already let you know via FnordNet.
As for the rest, reports and whatnot, well, I took a trip to the Geode, bathed in the warmth and washed off the muck, and now I'm back here on Pueblo, setting things up like I had 'em before. I'll have to go out and get a ship soon, probably a transport or some such. Suppose I'll call it the Precious Mao again, assuming the thing's big enough to warrant its own name.
Well, not much else to say. Can't rightly give a report on my patrols 'til I have a ship to patrol in. So until then...
++ Source : Gabriel Angelos, Captain of the Tau.Ceti.Central ++
++ Destination : TAZ popes ++
++ Derivation : none ++
++ Encryption level : mu ++
++ Transmission begins ++
Hello over here.
After my little holidays at Marne, Saaz told me that Episkopos told him that Eris told him that the holy crab told her i needed to go to Shasta rehab center.
*obviously liying*
After consulting my pineal about this i decided to give it a go!
So i docked to Shasta and freely entered the rehab center where i had funny time there with people. We played a lot of games, we picked flowers and we chewed bubble gums.
Then people there said i was so nice and so sane i didn't need to stay there, and they offered me presents. It was a nice day.
After this i said "Full sails!" and we moved to trade stuffs and spread the Chao.
We provided some stuffs to some people and it was alright. And i didn't drink a single bottle at all!
Have a nice day my dear popes.
++ End of transmission ++
*After a few minuts, you receive another message from the same source*
++ Source : Saaz, Second in command of the Tau.Ceti.Central ++
++ Destination : TAZ popes ++
++ Derivation : none ++
++ Encryption level : omega ++
++ Transmission begins ++
Greetings.
This is Saaz.
You have probably received by now a report from Cap'tain Angelos. But i think i need to clear some things.
First, after harassing our Cap'tain we succeeded to make him go to Shasta Skyhook.
After this, the Cap'tain decided to go to the bar. But we made an anonymous call to the Rehab center and they agreed it was a priority target. So they picked him up.
The Cap'tain was very displeased about this and refused to follow them.
They took him to SSRC (Shasta Skyhook Rehab Center). There started a long and violent process to make our Cap'tain sober again.
I'm afraid that process failed. The rehab center released him, since they couldn't do much to help him.
When the Cap'tain was allowed to quit the rehab, he went directly to his cabin, and opened a bottle a Gallic wine.
That is all.
Comm ID: Linus Koios
Vessel: Loose Ends
Location: Planet Pittsburgh, New York System
Well, we're still stuck here. With the 'moth sittin' out there on the mooring fixture, exposed to these stinkin' ion storms, some of her systems were a bit wonky when we boarded 'er yesterday. We spent a day workin' 'er up, making her ready to put to space again. We've had to abandon our work a few times since, with more ion storms pulsin' through the area.
This might bear investigatin', folks. I'm gonna get in the Raven and piddle around in some suspect places...'course, these ion storms might be for some reason we'll never know, but then again, what if they aren't? 'Fore I can get back to the RH3, though, we've gotta get off Pitts.
Not that it's a bad place. The folk here're decent enough. Some refugees from Leeds, came her lookin' for an industrial job away from the war. Some Junkers that usually spend their time in the surrounding debris fields. It's a dead-end planet - the trade lane leads just to Pitts, an' nowhere else after - so it tends to attract "lifers", folk who've decided to make their career here.
An', of course, a few oddities like my crew an' I, bringing goods to Pitts an' weatherin' the storms in harbor, so t'speak. Not many traders, though - mostly, like I said, "lifers". Hospitable people, though. Chillin', playing cards in the bar...could be worse.
Comm ID: Stella Maris, Cmdg, [TAZ]Consul.du.Baffin, Marne
To: FnordNet Central
Subject: Readiness reports
Ambassador Holliday, the Consulate vessel weathered the recent storms berthed at Planet Marne. No damage to report. Condition: Ready to receive yours or the Deputy Ambassador's flag.
Consul.Escort.1 has reported from Lodeve after detached duty escorting Tau.Ceti.Central to the Gallian frontier. No damage. Status: Making all speed back to Marne.
I have also received reports from the Temple Guards for transmission to Warden Kyte at Pueblo Bonito.
Templar Daleth on station at Freeport 1. No damage. Frater Daleth requests further orders.
Templar Gimmel on station at Pueblo Bonito. No damage. Resuming normal Temple patrols.
Templar Beth on station at Reunion. No damage. Frater Beth reports he has a full hold, and requests transfer by TAZ trading vessel to Sirian sell points. Ready for escort duties within Languedoc and Dauphine.