So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby asteconn » Sun Jan 21, 2018 8:42 pm

You should fix that.

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby SockFiddler » Wed Jan 31, 2018 8:44 am

On the far, far edge of The Bubble a secret society floats about in a fleet of approximately 150 luxuriant and tastefully-decorated warships: each vessel is a carefully-designed nod to practicality featuring a series of workshops, storage rooms and living space (with nicely-thought-out guest rooms) and a lot of very finely tuned weaponry, and is the pride and joy of its owner. While currently located in Kinago (while the sales are on), this nomadic fleet doesn't really claim any system as its home. Instead, it will relocate itself to wherever someone needs a stern finger wagging, a coffee morning organised or a warm knitted jumper.

The fleet is made up largely of cutters, clippers and corvettes, though its lead ship, called Fair Isle is a splendidly-outfitted anaconda whose interior is famed for its tasteful aesthetic, practical kitchen space and enormous haberdashery. Indeed, on the third Wednesday of each month, every ship will send a representative to browse the wool and fabric store (a civilised and efficient way to collect fleet dues) ahead of gathering in the comfortable drawing room (with the nice rug) to work on their various projects and discuss The State of Things.

The attendants of the meeting are - without question - the most powerful women in the galaxy.

This roaming, feminine collective of retired Amazons have together decided that They Have Had Enough. Whether through birth, marriage, sex or scandal, these women boast connections to every single power-player in the Bubble; whether their connection is to pirates or statesmen, princes or smugglers, there's not a decision in the Bubble that cannot be unmade should they decide to make it so.

The commander of Fair Isle is known as "The Godmother": all women strictly maintain secret identities to save their powerful, famous family members and ex-lovers any embarrassment should their coms be intercepted. It's endlessly surprising how fast word of an uncomfortable rash or poor fashion/dating/political choice gets around and the media are relentless... But these secret identities serve a further purpose, too, namely to offer a polite barrier between women connected to those on opposing sides of the law. Thus the wife of a well-known pirate can make cheerful conversation with the mother of the stateswoman who has posted a bounty that could well get said pirate killed without things descending into name-calling and unpleasantries.

The women also consider themselves to be the unofficial keepers of Human Lore and Mystery, with many of them having been noted scholars in their time. Thus there is a haphazard juxtaposition of religion, mythology and philosophy where Jesus Christ sacrificed himself so that Jason could find the Golden Fleece, which was ultimately stolen by Loki for presentation to Bodacea so that she'd be inspired to oppose the invading Buddhist-Roman army, itself commanded by Pythagoras. This also explains why The Godmother's Chief of Staff is called Mary Magdalene ("Em-Em" for short) and flies a cutter called "Shiva".

These colliding cultures are also reflected in the many arts and crafts continually being practised throughout the fleet: the ancient "Fair Isle" knitting pattern (The Godmother's specialty) now contains tooth fairies and vikings; contemplative mandalas will swirl around Christmas trees and Easter eggs; Hannukah starts on Halloween and features 8 separate costume-making contests. The fleet will split up 4 times a year and distribute crocheted blankets and hand-made crockery, socks and gloves to newly-settled systems, buying influence and connections with delicious home-made meals and pamphlets they write themselves (printed on home-made paper) named things like "Sensible Home Remedies for Settlers" and "Seed Propagation The Easy Way" and "Upcycle That Ship!". They organise medicine drives and charity raffles, coffee mornings and informative talks, all with concise efficiency and a never-ending supply of perfectly-baked Victoria Sponge.

And The Godmother oversees it all while spreading the joys of tea, yarn and slightly kitch knick-knacks throughout the fleet and the galaxy beyond.

However, today the Godmother isn't quietly knitting-one, perling-one in the corner while listening to what her Shield Maidens and Maenads have to feedback from their various lovers, families and spouses. Instead, her bifocals are purposefully atop the bridge of her nose and she is sticking her knitting needles firmly into her large ball of Number 8 ("Hypothetical Cerulean") wool. Guinevere - a fussy little woman who is the older sister to some higher-up in the Sirius Corp - is drawing breath and about to warn The Godmother about the dangers of splitting her skeins with her knitting needles, but The Godmother silences her with a single glance before politely clearing her throat.

The women, quietly chatting and offering each other tips on their tatting, fall silent.

"I think it's all getting a bit out of hand. The Thargoids, the slaving, the criminality. It's everywhere. We need a wide intervention." A gently-Birmingham accent softens her voice, though her tone remains stern.

"Aisling was at the slavery thing again..." offers a tall, red-head woman known as "Hera" (ship name: Amenhotep). "I thought that was quite nice, really."

Women around her murmur in polite agreement.

"Oh, pish-posh," replies The Godmother dismissively, "Until she moves off that rock that depends upon slavery to keep running, I'll listen to none of her "Look at me! I'm so caring!" nonsense."

The murmur of agreement is louder and longer this time.

"Maybe we could increase the price of crime?" comes on suggestion.

"No...", the immediate retort, "We need to lower it."

"Lowering it would mean devaluing the victims."

"Not at all, studies have shown-"

And then, as often happens, the various voices become indistinct as the group descends into what The Godmother calls A Moment of Passionate Discussion. She pauses for a moment, lifting her cup and saucer for a sip of tea while her ladies let off a bit of steam. And then she stirs her cup and taps the teaspoon gently on its rim. The resonant tap is enough to call the meeting back to order.

"It's more than bounties and pay-outs; it's right from the top. There's a nastiness to things these days, something base and unpleasant that wasn't there before. And I say we need to find a way to challenge it. We need to make An Example."

The women nod thoughtfully in agreement. All except one who rises to her feet. The Godmother groans inwardly: it's Nefertiti (ship name: The Kon Tiki) who could be described as "a nemsis", if one were prepared to acknowledge that such an inefficient and potentially hurtful thing as a rivalry could exist.

"There was another sex tape released," offers Nefertiti, folding her cushion-cover embroidery project around her hands.

"Oh? Who was in it this time?" asks The Godmother carefully.

There is a silence and then two words that force the Godmother to put her hands in her pockets and clench them into fists.

"Your husband," replies Nefertiti.

"Do you have the tape, by any chance?" asks The Godmother, her voice utterly under control.

"I do."

"Why you'd want to keep hold of such filth..." mutters Em-Em just loud enough to be heard and incur the agreement of others around her. The Godmother shoots a grateful look at her lieutenant before returning her gaze to Nerfertiti.

But Nefertiti - usually so preoccupied by appearances - is not so easily dissuaded today and she's come ready for action. She reaches into her pocket to produce a small datachip, before turning to place her sewing on the chair behind her and then walking, with slow confidence, to The Godmother and handing it over.

The tape in her possession, The Godmother stares Nefertiti down and mutters through clenched jaws, "Meeting adjourned, thank you, ladies."

"Enjoy the show," whispers Nefertiti before striding off back to her ship. The Godmother stares after her, furious, before retiring to her study to see how bad the damage is.





Some time later, Dawg, Kharma, Tor and Lori are in a bar taking bets on which one of them is taller. The answer is obviously Tor, but this is a favourite game that they play when they're all so drunk they can barely speak and there is much laughter in the happy little group.

"Excuse me, Gents," says Dawg as his communicator lights up. He turns from the others to see what has just come in, expecting news on a status upgrade from a group he's been killing skimmers for over the last week or so. At first, the others carry on without him, but - one by one - they notice that he's gone as white as Lori's second Cutter and has started to tremble just a little bit. Worse, when he finally speaks, he sounds utterly sober and thoroughly unamused.

"Everything okay there, buddy?" asks Lori.

"Er... we have been summoned, Gentlemen."

"Oh?" says Kharma.

"Yes..." And then Dawg increases the audio so they can all hear what is being said in a gently Brum accent.

"Dudley, it's me. Why don't you pop home for a bit? I'll make a curry and we'll have a nice chat. Bring everyone along, they'll all enjoy a nice meal and a chat, eh?" Her tone is light but, somehow, terrifying. There is a slight pause and then she adds, "Bring your little pipe, too, Dudley, why don't you? I'll send a rendezvous point; don't be late. Godmother out."

"Oh shit..." says Tor. Lori drops his head into his hands, Kharma puts his half-finished beer down.

"Time to go to Fair Isle," whispers Dawg.
"Drink fast, die young"
Image

"You may ask who was wearing the bow tie; me or the shark. The answer is: YES."

TorTorden
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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby TorTorden » Wed Jan 31, 2018 10:22 am

Part of the game, is to get me so drunk I can't stand up straight, hence how the others can manage to win :D
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People call me Bob.

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Rule 2: No such thing as overkill, as long as there are reloads.

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby Loriath » Wed Jan 31, 2018 1:29 pm

Oh shit... Tor is right, this is not good.... I'm going in something that is BLAZINGLY fast and small and maneuverable. And I need to double test my remlock and make sure that my escape pods are tested and working.... The last time... Oh Oh.,,,
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12 year olds tearing around the woods on dirt bikes have LESS FUN than we do!

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby Dudley » Wed Jan 31, 2018 7:23 pm

Loriath wrote:Oh shit... Tor is right, this is not good.... I'm going in something that is BLAZINGLY fast and small and maneuverable. And I need to double test my remlock and make sure that my escape pods are tested and working.... The last time... Oh Oh.,,,


Does anyone have a spare Helmet..?? :oops:

There appears to be a fish in mine.. :?

..It looks like it's been there for some time!! :shock:

Gentlemen, I'm missing a shoe..!!! :(

If we're late..... :oops:

she knows about the pipe..??

o7 Dawg
As a tribute to Tor, my CMDR has small feet too! o7 Dawg

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby SockFiddler » Sat Feb 03, 2018 12:39 am

GALNET DISCOURSE:
Keeping pilots in the loop
(Free version, click here to upgrade NOW!)

INCOMING MESSAGE: SOCKFIDDLER, THAT'S NOT MY FINGER, DECIAT SYSTEM
Show time-stamp y/n?
RECEIVED: FELICITY FARSEER, FARSEER INC, DECIAT SYSTEM
DEL, IGN, X more options.

StockDiddler: So... How far can you actually see?

F@FARSEER: Stop wasting my time and buy something.

StockDiddler: But I bought you muffins!

F@FARSEER: I am gluten free. Buy something or leave.

StockDiddler: Sorry about the coeliac thing - must be mega-shits for you on your birthday :( . What about some nice toiletries? I know this guy who bootlegs some really nice Lyra hand-made stuff...

F@FARSEER: No, thank you. Especially if it's that vile-stinking crap CMDR Loriath was trying to peddle last time he was here.

StockDiddler: Oh, that was YOU?! But seriously... just trying to lighten the mood.

F@FARSEER: Buying something would lighten my mood. What do you want?

StockDiddler: Pulse lasers?

F@FARSEER: You know that's not something I offer.

StockDiddler: Yeah, but you SHOULD...

F@FARSEER: No. pick something I offer...

StockDiddler: Fine, fine. Okay. Can you tune up my FSD?

F@FARSEER: Of course.

StockDiddler: And take a look at my pulse lasers?

F@FARSEER: ...

StockDiddler: Just kidding! Hey, what's your dog called?

F@FARSEER: I don't have a dog.

StockDiddler: Guess what?

F@FARSEER: What?

StockDiddler: You do now!

INCOMING IMAGES

Image

Image

F@FARSEER: ...that's not a dog.

StockDiddler: No, I know. But I couldn't find a puppy in a hurry and Sol is far too far away to claim it was an impulse buy.

F@FARSEER: What IS that?

StockDiddler: It's Steve.

F@FARSEER: Very good. But what IS it?

StockDiddler: It's a skaccoon.

F@FARSEER: A what?

StockDiddler: A Skaccoon! I think it's the product of something called "Genetic convergence" where some guy thought he'd try to make a new species that could live on some new planet or other. He was selling them cheap in 317. Isn't he the cutest?

F@FARSEER: ... it's terrifying.

StockDiddler: Yeah, but he'll piss all over your house AND eat all the trash in your compactor. And without ever needing more than .2 G.

F@FARSEER: You are joking. I don't want it.

StockDiddler: Him.

F@FARSEER: Excuse me?

StockDiddler: Steve. It's a him. Don't him "it", that's mean.

F@FARSEER: I don't want him.

StockDiddler: Too late, dude! He's already setting up home in Hangar 3.

F@FARSEER: Whatever. I'm busy. What do you actually want?

StockDiddler: Fine, fine. Can you give me a little more jump range on my vulture pretty please?

F@FARSEER: Of course. Usual arrangement.

StockDiddler: Groovy. Will be landing in about an hour.

F@FARSEER: Will be waiting for you. Oh, and SockFiddler...

StockDiddler: Yeah?

F@FARSEER: I've got a message for you from The Godmother.

F@FARSEER: StockDiddler: Oh? Wait, she's REAL?!

F@FARSEER: She is. And she wants you to go meet her on Fair Isle. Be ready to receive rendezvous information. I know how you love to never check your messages.

StockDiddler: You sound like my mother.

F@FARSEER: No I don't; I'm speaking to you.

StockDiddler: Ouch, buuuuuurn. My mother's dead, you know.

F@FARSEER: Of course she is.

StockDiddler: No, seriously, she's dead.

F@FARSEER: Well, I doubt that's true.

StockDiddler: F@! You're harshing my buzz. Anyway... enjoy Steve. See you in an hour. With my pulse lasers.

F@FARSEER: ...
"Drink fast, die young"
Image

"You may ask who was wearing the bow tie; me or the shark. The answer is: YES."

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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby *Al* » Sat Feb 03, 2018 8:36 am

I'll just leave this here:

A-Team ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
They'd rather give you a shot to the face then diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's and each night begins a new day
If you don't understand them and they don't die young
they'll probably just jump away

Mamas' don't let your babies grow up to be A-Team
Don't let 'em pick spoilers or drive them old Asps
Let 'em be Authors and PAC men and Vikings and AdMen and IT Gurus and Senior Engineering Managers and such


Mamas' don't let your babies grow up to be A-Team
'Cause they'll never stay home and they're always alone, they’ll never be sober
Even with someone they love

A-Team like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornin's
Little warm puddles and killin and girls of the night
Them that don't know them won't like them
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take em
They ain't wrong they's just different
But pride won't let them do things to make you think that their right

Mama don't let your babies grow up to be A-Team
Don't let 'em pick spoilers the grumpy old fucks
Let 'em be Authors and PAC men and Vikings and AdMen and IT Gurus and Senior Engineering Managers and such


Mama don't let your babies grow up to be Asshats
'Cause they'll never stay home but they're never alone
Even with someone they love

Mamas' don't let your babies grow up to be A-Team
Don't let 'em pick Cutters that fly like lame ducks
Let 'em be Authors and PAC men and Vikings and AdMen and IT Gurus and Senior Engineering Managers and such....

asteconn
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Re: So Long, and Thanks For All The... Arrest Warrants

Postby asteconn » Fri Feb 09, 2018 12:36 pm

I love how terrifying you've made poor Dawg's wife.

I'm not entirely sure though that you're totally going to get away with trolling Ms Farseer - she seems the sort that would counter-troll by messing with ones FSD :P


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