Tales of the Admins

[ArmsAndLegs Guy]

The janitor felt his side for any broken ribs. The pain started to subside, and he thanked the sirius gods that steelcapped Doc Martens had not been issued to the Reverends of the faith for nearly 400 years.

"Well, typical - now I have to first take my broom to the engine room and sweep all those sheets of paper away, and then they probably want me to clean the bridge after their party." he thought to himself. "Never any recognition for my work, besides a kick to the side by the reverend."

The janitor leaned on his broom handle for a moment and started to daydream - Vivid pictures of big bullseyes hanging on the back of the Admins, while miners and angry farmers took potshots at them with kittencannons and halfeaten ploughmans lunches, drifted through his mind.

He sighed, then decided it was time to get back to cleaning the engineroom, lest they turned the Agency on him too.

---

Here to serve® You!!!

[Agmen of Eladesor]

Agmen stood up from his bunk.

"The bar is open? That's very good. I've been wanting to ... well, perhaps mingle is a poor word choice. Ah, I know - get to know my fellows in a more sociable setting for some time now. After all, watching poor Dieter sweat over the coals as he applys the hot branding irons to those rule breakers, or watching the Reverend and now Saint apply ointments that peel the flesh from the sinners isn't really conducive to small talk, after all."

He stopped at the door, and turned back into the room. "You be a good boy, now, and stay here while I'm gone. Don't eat anything or anyone that's going to be missed."

From the stand in the corner, a head nodded in understanding...

---

Oh god... The end of days... Agmen agreed with me.

[Fellow Hoodlum]

Hoodlum reached for his third coffee, the imported Gran Canarian blend hitting the spot as usual. It still came
out of the beer tap in the bar, no one had ever had the heart, or the inclination to look into the anomaly known
as the coffee machine ...
The Dean Uncertainty Principle, not to be confused with the Reactionless Thruster known as The Dean Drive,
which of course, was seriously lacking in most parts of Sirius, states, though very uncertainly, that the close
relationship between vending processes and the their associated machines, is inversely proportional to the
amount of credits you are prepared to lose at any time operating one. It never did make any sense, but
that's another story.
There seemed to be a huge Ion storm emanating from what would have been the direction of the old Sol
Sector, and it looked like all Sirius traffic would be grounded for some time.
Not that much of a problem in itself, maybe the current population would stop bitching and whining at each
other, and actually do something a little more meaningful with their short and ineffective lives.
Pigs may fly ... But apparently the cloning experts hadn't got that far yet, well it hadn't been reported in the
Daily Star anyway.
He reached for the intercom button.

"Cannon, anything further on the weather conditions ? Appears the whole of our sector has been shot into a
temporary black-hole, and I look really bad in that colour. Doesn't anybody do one in green ?"

He made a mental note to have the contents of the coffee checked out ...

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[Cannon]

Mean while...

"I'll look into it"

Cannon turned to air lock window and looked out into the depths of space. As he expected it still appeared to be hard vacuum although it was just possible to see the wreck of a corsair and his ship drifting in the distance. Minutes earlier this ship had attempted to approach the battlestar and then it very temporarily added a little atmosphere to the area. It seemed likely that Hoodlum was drinking his special coffee again.

Returning to the console in the desk, Cannon continued typing...

dear mum,

things are good here. I would LIKE to but i Can't say where here is but I am fine. The peOple are very nice except for the Reverend who Says meAn thIngs behind my back. unfortunately he met with an accident while getting a waRm cup of coffee. it seems the coffee Machine malfunctioned and Exploded. I do not know And cannot think of any reason why this could have happened. The doctor says that he will be okay although it is hard to know when he will be able to return to duty. not soon I think.

i sometime miss the green hills of gran canaria but this job is rewarding. i get to work on the engines and coffee vending machines all hours of the daY even when nobody else is around to see what I am doing.

yoUr son, cannon
ps. Please tell Mrs sanchez that i saw her son recently.

After pressing send, Cannon stands and walks in the direction of the flight deck. "I guess I'd better do a little recon and check on the natives".

---

Proud member of "the most paranoid group of people in the community"

Old Avatar #2 | Old Avatar #3

[Cannon]

With a nudge from the thruster, the Thor Mark II drifts free from the Battlestar's docking clamps.

"Computer, charge jump engines. Target Manhattan orbit"

A soft female voice replies *Acknowledged, jump engines charging*

A pause then *Jump engines charged, ready to jump*

"Go"

With a flash of darkness the ship disappears and settles into a new orbit. Manhattan gleams in the background.

Cannon looks around for any ships nearby and thinks about food.

---

Proud member of "the most paranoid group of people in the community"

Old Avatar #2 | Old Avatar #3

[Doc Holliday]

Doc sat at his desk, a glass of water at his side as he worked through the piles of paperwork that were the bane of every admin. But, it was necessary.

"Cloaking device," he muttered as he zeroed out the offender's bank and took the device away.
"Such a filthy mouth," he said of the next offender, ordering him placed in Bastille with a bar of mouth sized soap.
He put his face in his palm, "Why is it that so many think they are lawyers?" he asked himself. Finally, he turned to Cannon who was at his desk doing much the same, "Do people ever behave themselves?"
Cannon only shook his head.

Again rubbing his face, Doc continued laying down the law on offenders, hoping that people would finally wise up!

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Jihadjoe]

The admin known as Joe was awake late... very late. There was a strange sound coming from somewhere within the battlestar. This wasn't unusual in and of itself, but disturbing and slightly annoying none the less. He flicked at the end of a pen and put his feet up next to the pile of paperwork he was casually ignoring.

"Hey Dieter" he yelled across the room. "We should like, totally organise a party or something."

The lack of responce annoyed him slightly so he yelled louder "Oi, Dieter, I SAID WE SHOULD LIKE TOTA-"

Suddenly the chair span out from under him and sirius flicked past at a nauseating rate as he was propelled by some mysterious force from one jumphole to the next, seemingly without any specific direction at all.

"Oh god..." He thought to himself, trying to control the vom-urges as he flew backwards through Tau 37, briefly aware of a whole load of very confused outcasts sitting near the freeport. "Cannon's fired the .pull generator again."

After several hours of rocketing through space at speeds Einstein would have wept to see, Joe finally and suddenly stopped just outside Planet Cambridge. A message popped up on his admin mind-comms device.

"Cannon: PWNT."

---

[Doc Holliday]

The loading crews were busy at Doc's ship, loading up some provisions and his personal bags for a road trip.
Doc arrived at the launching bay in his flight suit and helmet tucked under his arm and his side arm holstered.
"So where are you headed, Sir?" asked the young man loading his ship.
"Dublin," he replied, "it's become a cesspool. I've made arrangements to stay there."
"Never been there, Sir," he replied, placing a shrink wrapped container in his hold.
"Maybe some day I'll take you out," Doc replied. He then noticed the vacuum wrapped container, "What is that?"
"Food provisions," replied the loader, "when vacuum wrapped, they keep better and it's all stuff you will like."
With that, the final loading was complete and Doc climbed into the cockpit of his ship.

Once away from the ship, he made his way to Dublin.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Dieter Schprokets]

Dieter Schprokets staggered onto the bridge giggling like a schoolgirl.

Like a schoolgirl on meth...

The others turned to look at him, and were dismayed.

He was covered in blood and gore.

"It took hours, but it is finished."

"FINISHED.."

He sat in a chair and poured a scotch with shakey, bloodied hands.

---

[Doc Holliday]

Ft. Bush, New York:

Doc finds a seat at a corner table in the bar, looking up over his glasses to make sure no one is pestering him. No one is. He makes his log entry:

I guess there is some hope for humanity. Caught several people talking a lot of nonsense. My oh my how they act in shock when they are caught and a tractor beam draws them close. I had their attention and they listened. Would you believe it? I actually was forgiving...even of some foul language. But, they righted their ways and behaved.

*takes a sip and re-checks around him. He's still alone and continues*

Dublin got quiet. If miners aren't mining, pirates aren't pirating. Too bad, really, it was fun too watch at times.

*notices that he actually has citations in his ticket book*

That's a first! I usually burn through a couple of these a day. Matt will be upset!

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises