The RP
WarZone...
Page: 83
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Figures. Just when it's time to party, TDK makes off with all the
bloodwine.. And here we are up to our armpits in deep fried Zergling drumsticks
ready to deliver..
anonymous
Drakelord crew
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 12:15:02 (MDT)
*Sneaking away from Saturn, a lone salvaged Tie Fighter makes its
way to the edge of the system, towing a large bundle of tied up mutalisk
bodies.* "Ahh, lunch for a month.. I was getting utterly sick of Imperial
rations.. I wonder if mutalisk wings taste like chicken wings..."
Leroy
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 12:27:01 (MDT)
On board Savannah's much-bettered interdictor, an anonymous man
slips a thin blaster-type weapon out of his pocket and slips out of the
holding bay, searching for a computer terminal....
<Demigod
of the Machine>
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 16:02:11 (MDT)
I'm definatly going to have to upgrade the weapons on my ship someday....
Savannah
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 17:30:08 (MDT)
Pissed that his engines broke down right before the main assult
began, Duker finally gets his engines back online and sets a course to
meet Savannah's Interdictor. Duker: " Open a hailing fequency to the fleet."
Comm: " Yes Sir, hailing fequency opened." Duker: "Excellent job on taking
out the Zerg force. Sorry I couldn't assist that much, but my &^@$%^*
engines quite working right before the final attack, but did we get her?
I repeat did we capture Jadesfire? And where is that bloodwine?" Duker
ends the transmission and orders repairs to the ship and orders the engineers
to see what they can do about the engines. Thinking, "where is Screwloose,
she was supposed to be here by now?"
Duker
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 21:54:46 (MDT)
Duker looks down to admire his Persian rug that is spread out in
fron of his chair on the Instigator, and about falls over. Duker: "Oh dear
god, there is a burn mark on my rug." Starts to run around the room and
begins to kick and punch things. He then walks over to his chair and begins
to cry in his hands.
Duker
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 23:24:54 (MDT)
*Following a lead, Cyborg Stan reaches a building. Some thoughts
run through his head. Why did he just see that tatoo? Where are all these
pirates come from? The crew manifests of the ships didn't explain much....
do they grow them or something? Grow.... grow.... something triggers in
Cyborg Stan's mind. He makes his way back to his ship, and sends a message
out to Outlyer Base, maximium encryption.*
Cyborg
Stan of CyKoLaJx, Inc.
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 23:34:52 (MDT)
'Receiving incoming transmission' *The Outlyer Base computer notifies
the comm system operators in a female voice stolen shamelessly from the
Blizzard briefing disk* "Greetings Honored Leader. How may we serve you?"
Outlyer
Base
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 23:51:54 (MDT)
Ask any Earth Defense Alliance members to search for any recent
missing persons from Earth. I know it would take awhile, but be sure to
focus on people that looks like these.... *Flashes some images at the screen,
looks around nervously.* Cyborg out.
Cyborg
Stan of CyKoLaJx, Inc.
- Saturday,
August 28, 1999 at 23:55:43 (MDT)
On a lonely secluded beach at the tip the Indonesian archipelago
chain, a small outrigger fishing boat pulls in to shore. Retching over
the side and looking decidedly green, a miserable resource surveyor from
Exxon squints at the sloping sand ahead. As it draws near to landing, the
fishermen jump out, and pull the small boat up onto the beach. Staggering
on unsteady seasick legs, Nat Partiks stumbles out, crashes down on all
fours, and kisses the ground, glad to be alive. Watching with great amusement,
Sive Dann, the biologist, nimbly hops out and strides over. "A great oil
company field operative you turned out to be. What are you doing now, inspecting
the sand grains for the trademark logos of your competitors?" Nat peers
up at her backlit smirk. "No, making sure that the beach isn't moving.
After 8 hours in that bobbing tub I'm no longer sure what 'solid' means
anymore... hullo, what's this?" *Squatting down beside him, Sive follows
his pointing finger. With a jolt of excitement, she pulls out a plastic
specimen bottle, hovering it in the air a bit.. then traps the tiny creature
chewing on Nate's bootsole. Carefully inverting the container and capping
it, she looks at the odd creature. Almost certainly a new species! A glass
spider-crab, yet able to live on land! She was suddenly very glad to have
agreed to be the guide for this expedition.. She'll make the Zoologists
Journal.. Maybe study the lifecyle and do a genetic map of the new species..
She'll be famous... Putting the specimen away, they begin unloading the
boat and setting up camp. Inside the plastic specimen bottle, now in a
dark carrying pouch, glows with microscopic lights as it transmits the
news to its brethren via the spider-net..
Zapper
- Sunday,
August 29, 1999 at 00:46:32 (MDT)
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