The RP
WarZone...
Page: 87
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Having observed the destruction of the Vulcan police ships from
his postion at Luna le Grange point 4, S'Tranak prepared a detailed verbal
account of the events, along with reams of sensor data and recordings,
and transmitted it all back to the Vulcan homeworld by subspace radio.
At the same time, he made several queries to the central libraries of the
Vulcan Science Academy, concerning such subjects as "Protectors", and "Lurkerspace".
Little had Leroy known that while he was in control of S'Tranak's ship,
hidden scanners, placed for just such an eventuality, had tracked and recorded
his every action. Some of these had been destroyed, but not all, and more
data was on its way back to S'Tranak's homeworld. This being done, he returned
to work on his ship. Warp drive was noe back online, but the Cloak would
be harder to get working again. The Remote Probes had mostly been recalled,
and were back in their launching bays on the underside of the ship, with
the exceptions of Probe #4 (destroyed, as expected, by the Imp forces.
S'Tranak made a mental note to order a replacement.), Probe #15 ( now on
its way back, bearing the vacuum-frozen body of Wesley Crusher), Probe
#12 ( monitoring the behaviour of the new black hole where Mimas used to
be), and Probe #11 (unaccounted for). A 57.67% probablity remained that
some Zerg had survived the destruction of their colony, and detailed scanning
of the Sol system would be required in the near future. No hurry though
( as humans might say), since, lacking FTL drive, the Zerg would not be
getting far.
Scottty
<[email protected]>
- Tuesday,
August 31, 1999 at 17:06:02 (MDT)
A long way away, a team of Imperial technicians were picking over
the remains of Vulcan Remote Probe #4. The Empire had been encountering,
(and usually shooting down on sight), such probes, with their annoying
automated greeting, for as long as anyone cared to remember. All attempts
to reverse-engineer the principles underlying the strange Vulcan technology
had so far ended in futility, or in theories too crazy to accept. Nothing
but sheer pig-headedness kept the Empire's best scientific minds at it.
Scottty
<[email protected]>
- Tuesday,
August 31, 1999 at 17:06:10 (MDT)
In the ghaytanHa, a bunch of spiders watch and record the proceedings,
toasting among themselves and downing miniature thimble-fulls of motor
oil...
Chrome
Spider
- Tuesday,
August 31, 1999 at 17:08:01 (MDT)
In solemn rank an file, the 1147 surviving Imperial former-hostages
prepare to make their own salute. With the background orchestral rendition
of The Imperial March, they turn as one, raise their right hands... and
in memory of their former Admiral Jadesfire... raise their middle fingers
into the air..
Imps
- Tuesday,
August 31, 1999 at 18:19:31 (MDT)
WOW! Okay, so we have Forge, Stan, Pakled Pete (whoever he is),
TDK, Duker, Wedge, Savannah, Q'res and Gonk. Woo Hoo! Okay, I'll start
getting everything ready, maps, boards, everything. So far we have as far
as role preferences go GONK is THRAWN! YEAH! I was really really really
hoping that either Gonk of Jades would take it. Pete wants to be a Klingon.
Cool with me. Savannah wants to be a SW character, easy to do. Q'res is
Trek, plenty of material there. TDK want's to be a Maquis, there are 2
Maquis factions let me know which one. Scottty and Woodlouse are still
thinking on it. 9 yes and 2 maybes is enough for me. We're goin' ahead
with it. THANKS!
Hindmost
<[email protected]>
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 01:50:42 (MDT)
*Once again space is filled with colour ripples indicating a hole
in QWF space opening up then 30 Zahh'Nothi battlecruisers glade through
toward the House Woodlouse fleet to make contact and speak about the "Xanarious
problem"...*
Admiral
Zahh'Nothi
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 03:44:09 (MDT)
GLIDE! GLIDE! GLIDE! You fool!
Lord_Woodlouse
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 03:47:52 (MDT)
*Stumbling across the room while seeing double, Duker walks up to
TDK and gives him a big slap on the back almost knocking him over. Duker:
"Urp...hic...you know big guy...hurp...I never told you..hic..this but,
I forgive...hic..you for messing up my old rug...belch...You're not such
a bad guy after a..huuuh...all. I love you man...hic" Right then and there,
Duker takes a big gulp of bloodwine and falls flat on his back still holding
tight onto his mug with a big smile on his face.
Duker
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 08:03:24 (MDT)
*Left arm falls off.*
TDK
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 10:24:42 (MDT)
His preparations have come to fruitition. The small sensors he teleported
into nooks and crannies about the old Lounge have shown the perfect opportunity
he had been waiting for. Now, teleporting with a drum beside the unconcious
Duker, Leroy activates Duker's commlink, and plays back an edited wav-file
of Duker's own voice, stitched together from all the recorded bits of his
bragging. : "Urp...hic...you know" "I have to make an announcement..."
"..hurp...I" "I love you man...hic" "anyone" "get their" "bloodwine!?.."
"after a..huuuh...all." "..belch.." "get" "out and" "up".. "Merry Drinking!!!."
*Duker's crew on board the Renegade smirk at each other, knowing their
boss has drowned in sauce.. but that offer of bloodwine sounds too good
to pass up. In moments, the unconcious form of Duker slumped ontop of a
barrel materializes in the Renegade. All of a sudden, the lid bursts open,
throwing Duker across the room. Leroy, smashing right through the barrel,
hurls a pair of soft carbon lubrication disks that look like hockey pucks
with inhuman precision, at a pair of Duker's crew who have just pulled
phasers from their holsters. With the sound of snaping branches, their
arm bones are shattered like fine crystal. In a blur, he leaps off the
transporter, executes a tuck-and-roll on impact and ducks behind a console.
From the knowledge he had gained aboard S'Tranak's Vulcan ship, his fingers
fly across the controls and beams the bottom half of the barrel into the
bridge, where it explodes. The object at the bottom of the barrel is a
sonic grenade, knocking the bridge crew senseless. Total elapsed time:
5 seconds. Taking a small highly potent capsule of knockout gas out of
the many-pocketed vest which is his only clothing, he twists a knob and
tosses it onto the transporter pad, then teleports it into the main air
supply duct, gassing anyone else onboard not injected with the antidote.
His fingers finally slow to visibility from a blur on the controls. With
a leap, he is on the teleporter and rematerializes onto the bridge. Using
what he learned aboard S'Tranak's ship, he queries the computer for the
location of all persons onboard, then using the ship's own sensors, teleport
them all to the old Lounge shack to join their equally unconcious comrades
who had drunk too much bloodwine. All except the two injured crewmen. The
two with broken arms, unconcious from shock, he teleports to an Earthside
hospital. Total elapsed time: 55 seconds. Pulling out a fist sized widget
with more buttons than a scientific calculator, he activates a command
sequence that sends his own cloaked vessel away from Earth orbit to the
rendezvous point. Taking control of the helm, he activates shields and
impulse drive, steers the Renegade to the right coordinates, then engages
warp. The fastest starship hijacking in recorded history has just been
achieved.
Leroy
- Wednesday,
September 01, 1999 at 10:35:35 (MDT)
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