To: The Junker Congress

[versatil]

Incoming Transmission...
Location: Planet Huston, Texas system
ID: Raven Steel

Good day!

I'm Raven Steel. Maybe you know me because I attacked your vessels. I spoke to some of your people and we had an agreement. But it seems your people keeps attacking us. And now, would you let them to attack Interspace Comerce?
This wouldn't be so wise.

This war is between us, if you don't want to stop it now, then do not involve innocent people.

Take a look at this, please.
It's not necessary to keep fighting each others. It isn't profitable for any of us.

Raven, out!

...Transmission Terminated

---

[Ortog]

I believe you need to consult with your optometrist Mr Steel. IC members were never targeted or hited, ask the ones that employed you.

I was in conversation with your employee and I reassured him that only the Steels were my target.

Please refrain from complete calunies and...might I sugest some vitamins for your tired brain cell? As to declare war on congress is not only stupid as will make your life experience very interesting. As in the old Earth eastern curse: "may you live interesting times".

Until the congress declares you are not a target we will hunt you, and hurt you whenever we can. You might be talented as a fighter but you are grossly outnumbered and it will, eventualy , get taxing on you and your brothers.

You will find no refuge, no solace and certainly no rest. Surely nobody wants to live like that ?

Be well, Sir.

-Ortog Ashford

[versatil]

Incoming Transmission...
Location: Planet Huston, Texas system
ID: Raven Steel

*she laughs hardly*

Okay, baby! Let's do this in your way. Firstly, go and consult a doctor. It seems your brain can not analyze images which are filtered thru your eyes, or sounds which are captured by your ears.
Secondly, you want this war to continue? Good! Because we started to like to hunt you down. You just keep praising about the numerous mercenaries or criminals you've sent after us. *she laughs again*
Don't you see? Every time you attacked us, you failed. Keep doing it!

I swear I will send you a shovel, so you can start to dig your grave. Even if it's unnecessary... My cannons will disintegrate you and your ship!

Raven, out!

...Transmission Terminated

---

[TFinnegan]

Right.
*smirks darkly*
Ye Steel blighters done started this 'ere row n' runction, ye'z did.
Oi dinnae know wha' yer minds be nae addled, but allow me t' refresh yer mem'ry.

*leans in close*
Ye lot attacked a Congress vessel, the .:j:.Dropkick, in California, unprovoked.
Ye buggers were holdin' a lane doon like ruddy poirates, an' me lad arsked ye what ye was doon.
Yer answer were hot photons.

*steeples fingers*
Now, ef ye'z look 'ere, -Press Button-, ye'll see wha' ye lot hae earned 'yon foine 25 million credit bounty as reward fer yer pilot's belig'rence.

*slumps into his command chair, brow furrowed*
Until ye'z lot figger oot 'tis nae wise t' tangle wif wealthy Junkers, ye'z can bluster all'a ye'z want aboot yer shovels n' wha' not.
S' loike yellin' inter a tin can, lass

*leans back, arms crossed, boots on console*
An'' Oi be nae inclined t' rescind said bounty, until such toime as Oi done received a sincere apology fer yon act o' vicious agression.
Our forgiveness hae a price as well - 30,000,000 Sirius credits t' cover th' replacement costs o' lost equipment, aye.
O'er wise yer like t'see Junker docks closed ahead o' yez, an' our friends a'tailin' behind ye'z fer as long as Oi'm breathin'.

.:j:.
Congressman Tim Finnegan
Clan Chief, Gordon Junkers of Inverness
Director of Congress Operations - Bretonia
~Coileach an Taobh Tuath~

---

[versatil]

Incoming Transmission...
Location: Rostock Station, Omega 15
ID: Raven Steel

Mr. Finnegan, this war started because we are happy-triggers and you have a big mouth.
We both did something wrong back then. Let's make a deal:
We will send you the credits necessary for reparations and you remove the bounty.

After the deal is done, we will ignore junkers until they'll attack us or they're caught in act of piracy.
And you, junkers, will NEVER ask us about our business.
Do the same, ignore us. We hate when somebody asks too many questions.

When we meet in space next time, just keep your mouths closed,
and we will keep our fingers away from the trigger.

Deal?

Raven, out!
...Transmission Terminated

---

[TFinnegan]

Lass,
Oi'm nae sure what ye'z be tryin t' accomplish 'ere.
*leans in close, teeth bared*
But Oi'll tell ye'z, ye doon nary but pessin' me off't, an' sure.

*thrums fingers on console while glaring at the screen*
Oi didnae hear tha apology Oi's waitin' fer.
An' even if Oi was t' accept tha' "we both done summin' wrong" as a half-arsed attempt, Oi'm not one fer acceptin' apologies wha' include commands t' shut me mouth.
Nary will Oi entertain yon commands as t' what questions Oi ask, an t'whom Oi ask 'em.

T'were nae me wha' begun 'ostilities, were it?
Now ye be heapin' hostility atop 'at?
Yer communication skills be needin' some foine tunin' - course Oi should likely 'spect 'at from a 'Bunter rent-a-cop.

*spits on floor*
Ye'z lot can aye keep yer money, lass.
Yer bloody peanuts isnae 'nuff ter swallow whatcher tossin' at me.
I'm willin' t' spend ten times 'at seein' ye'z lot spaced, fer me entertainment alone.

*grins ruefully*
Aye an Oi'm gonna be usin' me big mouth t' be raisin' yon bounty, fer just such a purpose.
...Ye be sure'n tell yon employers o'er at Interspace Commerce t' expect more trouble in their skies from rampant bounty collectors.

Until yon apology includes th' sentence, "Congressman Finnegan, Oi be truly sorry wha' we attacked Th' Congress, an' specifically your assets. T'will nae 'appen again.", we be done talkin'.
An' 30 million? Pffft. Double 'at.
S' the cost o' yer own big bloody mouth.

.:j:.
Congressman Tim Finnegan
Clan Chief, Gordon Junkers of Inverness
Director of Congress Operations - Bretonia
~Coileach an Taobh Tuath~

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