It's Spriiiiing-Time and Peace is in the Airrrrrrrr....Gonna Dance aroound with Daisies in my Hairrrr....
Okay, so it's early Summer instead. Blame the delay on trans-warp holodeficiencies or Virgo running into the front of the House of Pisces. Whatever...
Yessirree, Boys and Girls! It's Peace! Well, a mild facsimile of it, at least until The Treaty is signed. Guess chewing on a bit of Armageddon kinda left some folks with queasy stomachs (not to mention much thinner wallets...). The USS decided to make their own treaty, but then- ooops- they shot up an IMPie survey ship. No apologies, natch. So it looks like we'll have fireworks at your local USS colony all summer. Last word is that they're losing one a week.
Peace, sorta. But hey- I don't look a gift duck in the mouth. Maybe I can cruise around soon as an IND again and not get shot at. I mean, being EEM is okay and all, but it's kinda like flying with false colors. You know, like the USS did when it suited them. What? Oh- that's right, we're at peace now. Forget I said it.
Back to The Bone. I was supposed to run the next installment of the trials and tribulations of Father Larry, but I lost the author's address when I upgraded the Bone's computer system (redeeming all those soft-drink cans Duckbutt picked up these past few years paid off). If yer reading this, drop me a line will ya? Can't leave the unfortunate friar wandering around the alleys of Werth forever, nowcanwe?
What else? The DTR, ZCS, WCE, and USS have lost people. Speaker Cascade has Ascended from his post with the MYR.. Rumor was lots of fur-pulling going on.Well, the Myrrians have changed rulers, bringing back a very outspoken former citizen to run things. So far though he's been quiet...Prince Nolan booked from the ZCS and he's a pseudo-squirrel now. Does that mean he'll eat pseudo-nuts?
So the FET, FOE, and MYR gained a few, and Nicky of "Blue Wail" fame lost his freedom and is sitting in a Quman jail (note to Duckbutt: send Nicky a care package: 'Sex Lives of the Primates' video and a box of kleenex...woo woo!). Somebody supposedly found a way out of the Nexus. I hope he remembered to lock the door behind him.
And last, but not least, I is now Lieutenant Harold Hedd. Kinda scary, ain't it? Damn, they'll promote anybody nowadays. Maybe I'll be USS PD next.. Springtime- and Peace is in the Airrrrr....
Other Bone-wise stuff. If you read the main page you'd have seen that we dumped our GeoCities site. Too many techno-problems. And- if you didn't read it on the main page, go back right now and look, willya? I didn't use up three precious hours and half a bottle of Jose Cuervo just so people can skip it.
Well Kids, some sad news. The RIP Assassin bought the farm over a WCE colony, of all places, about Week 8. If you've stayed awake through our last issue (the boffo #50), you remember 'Poppa' Woody and his journal about life aboard Starship 1114, last known as the Assassin. We don't know if 'Poppa' became so much space dust, but we'll let you know. Fortunately, we managed to obtain the rest of the story and will present it later. Meanwhile here's:
Part Two
Battle Log of Starship No. (1114)
From WCE SEA DEVIL to RIP ASSASSIN!
by Freelance Correspondent "Poppa" Woody
[Ed: This is the second part of a journal written during the last two years. During that period Starship #1114 was under the command of five different officers and fought in 27 battles.]
(Tought Ugo 195.32) We received orders to rendezvous with the fleet in the orbit of Tought Ugo in Porkamo where we are to bombard the Quman base PORT RUDE.
Tought Ugo was one of the first planets colonized by humans in the Transhole, by Lord Croft and the smelters of the SMS, who mined the pulac on Tymet Ugo and sold jump engines to starships floating through the blackholes. Over the last fifteen years SMS PORKAMO BASE has grown into one of the largest facilities in the Region.
To increase his batteries against the ever aggressive and sometimes hostile Colonial Corporation the Croft family built SMS SUOMI on one of their outposts on Tought Ugo. A third colony was later constructed. Over the years, to encourage trade and allies to join the SMS, the Crofts sold SUOMI and INFINITY to the FET and AFT. Later the QSN and their cyber ally the Pennockians bought up the colonies and used them as stepping stones into the Transhole.
(Author's Note: In the center of the Transhole the QSN bought WCE VILLANOVA in Latexia-64. Will Scaflock later would kick himself for turning it over to the enemy. In 192 when wealthy Qumans were buying up property throughout the galaxy, Scaffer explained the deal by saying Posthind is "nothing more than a sooty, ball of pulac." The QSN used it as another stepping stone to Allipon in Limond, and then into the Lower Transhole where they wished to colonize and claim several mineral rich systems weakly held by the Flagritz.)
In the Forum Room Gus explained: "There have been several battles on the ground already. PFM KI PRIME was scouted by the Colonials and captured last week by Flagritz commandos. The War Department sent a recon in force against PORT RUDE with equipment bought off the market at PORKAMO BASE, but they were beaten back. But from the photographers our tankers supplied, Curry seems to think the Qumans are weak enough to destroy from orbit, without undo losses," Gus said.
Pendleton's hand went up. "Is this going to be like last time Sir, when we were told the entire fleet was going to be with us, and all that shows up is the HUNTER'S MOON, BLAZE OF GLORY, and ICARUS?"
"I've been told thirty ships from all our Transhole allies will be meeting us."
A groan of disbelieve escaped most of the crew.
"Mr. Merrick?"
"Sir, what about PORKAMO BASE? In the CPT it says Lord Croft has interlocking defend orders with the QSN and PFM. If the SMS open up on us, we don't stand a chance." Several years ago a couple of rouge Flagritz baseships tried opening up on PORT RUDE and PORKAMO BASE smoked 'em. One was even captured and serves as Admiral Soteki's QSN flagship.
The Forum erupted into growls of discontent.
"Now, now, settle down. Supposedly the Secretariat has taken all care of that. Yesterday at ODIN'S EYE the PD Horst Treyder and Junior Croft signed a new agreement. As of 0600 today all the governments of the Transhole: the Colonials, the Samillians, the WaSP, the AIS, and the Flagritz are being added to PORKAMO BASE's defend list. When we arrive the SMS assures us we will not be fired on."
Even with this assurance when the bells clanged and the SEA DEVIL's guns roared all of us had our hearts in our throats. Would the SMS double cross us? The WCE had done them dirty plenty in the past. Had the Qumans reinforced Tought Ugo? Would there be any defenders in orbit?
Terry and I buckled ourselves into our seats in the galley and prepared for missile flak. She said, "You know, I'm not a fan of Hype Rage, but I was real happy when that Gregos bimbo told me him and his posse took down the SMS stargate next to the planet. You don't think the SMS are still sore about that, do you?"
I didn't know, but quickly found out.
Through the outside monitors I watched a fleet of 20 WCE, WSP, and FGZ form up in a line and circle PORT RUDE gun ports blazing. There are seven Flagritz Baseships with us, but we are still the only FBS in the Colonial fleet. Capt. Greybeard O'Brien and his pocket battleship WCE PARANOIA pass by the tiny window in the bulkhead. Terry and I both craned our necks to see. The collidium from his guns sends a puff of green haze swirling the decks.
The screen of the monitor glowed as hundreds of green arcs pierced the atmosphere like bolts of lightning. The whine of thousands of Flagritz photon guns joined the rolling thunder of our disruptors. Over 800,000 mu's of hell rained down on Governor Ming'Ritt.
Much to our relief PORKAMO BASE remained a twinkle of lights on the far side of the island of what was the only continent on an otherwise water world. Likewise KI PRIME remained a silent spectator. PORT RUDE managed only 200 weapons split into two batteries. They got off one shot, then were slagged into a molten mess by our fleet.
Twenty-three brave little QSN X-19 fighters came out to face us and buzzed the FGZ GREY WANDERER, but as Lord Den the FGZ Ataman later was to remark in the CPT, "They didn't even scratch the WANDERER'S thorlium plate."
The War Department had been right about PORT RUDE. We took no casualties.
The officers and crew are in excellent spirits. Terry told me to make them a cake. So here I am in the midst of our finest hour baking Domophyte pies. The key ingredient comes from these 70' tall mushrooms that grow all over Tought Ugo. I managed to wrangle a couple MUs from a shuttle coming out of PORKAMO BASE. The stuff is like bread, and glows an eerie violet phosphorescent. It gave us all a nice buzz, so I am now immensely popular with the crew.
The men tell me we are going to ODIN'S EYE for a parade, shore leave, and a new patch for our flight jackets.
Sgt. John Pelham snuffed my enthusiasm. "Don't listen to those shlubs from Olag. Gus told me the Secretariat intends on taking the war to the enemy."
"We're going into Drell?"
"Bob only knows. But this could be the big war we've all been praying for."
Praying for war? Pelham scares me more than the Qumans.
* * *
(Tought Ugo 195.38) Obviously Pelham is out of favor with the gods of war. We have been on station patrolling Porkamo for the last six weeks. No parade. No patches. No action.
Then this morning the bells clang. Unbeknownst to us all the android Pennockians have had the audacity to claim Porkamo System, even after we kicked their cyberbutts out of SUOMI. Two of their best warships have been cruising the system skirmishing with our vessels. Just last week the PFM BLACKFLAG commanded by Star Admiral Byte Hedzoff traded volleys with one of the Blaze family's ships, the MoW WCE BLAZE OF GLORY.
Although the PFM MoW is the same size as the Colonial MoW their hull design is much newer. Supposedly it gives them more punch per pound of air speed velocity, or something like that. What do I know, I bake pies.
Fortunately Pendleton says the Pennockians weapons systems are not as potent as their ships. "Their puny positron suck."
But as Lt. Alec Blaze learned, the PFM had taken to ditching their positrons in favor of missiles. Pendleton said, "They come in outfitted heavy on launchers, carrying just enough missiles to nail you twice, and then they run. That's where their new design really comes in handy. Their MoWs are more than twice as fast as ours. Blaze took some serious damage to his main section, but they're going to be all right. Nobody bought the ranch."
Our undercover agents at PORKAMO BASE spotted the BLACKFLAG in the repair bays and alerted our people. The SEA DEVIL, 2 FGZ baseships and the MoW WCE WARBIRD were all in Porkamo and rushed to Tought Ugo. We met in orbit just as the BLACKFLAG finished completing its launch cycle.
SAdm Byte Hedzoff bit the big one. Apparently Lord Croft allowed him to repair his vessel, but refused to sell him any missiles or fresh launchers to replace those destroyed by Blaze.
The officers apparently found it amusing because they laughed their way through dinner. I was able to overhear snatches of their conversation. Apparently Hedzoff had split his 50 remaining missiles into three batteries, none of which did any substantial damage.
"Still," said Gus, "do you realize that after an entire year in space, and a half dozen engagements this is the first time we've been targeted? Will, how much got through our shielding?"
"No more than 100 MUs of damage to main. We lost four guns."
Gus thought about it. "We'd better increase our shields. If we run across a PFM ship that's not firing blanks, it could get ugly."
* * *
(Porkamo 195.48) The WCE is taking the war to the enemy, but not to Drell. They've decided to exterminate the PFM. It seems the Qumans transgressions have been forgotten in favor of stomping the much smaller Pennockian Federal Meritocracy.
For once Terry seemed to be in agreement with the War Department. "Ever been out to the Eden rec complexes? It's a big tourist trap. And let me tell you, androids make the worst chefs. They have no sense of taste. But they make this stuff called cevene. I've never tried it, but it's supposed to be fabulous. It'll get you higher than lotus blossoms."
While the Secretariat plans to exterminate of the entire Pennockian race Terry hopes we go along to sample the local cuisine.
While Admiral Rage and the Colonial RDF are out fighting the good fight in Eden the SEA DEVIL is ordered to Lemke to pickup the new Gunship-A specialization. The Baseship goes into the shipyard and through a complete re-fit that enables us to double up on our disruptors.
Afterwards we are sent to patrol Fishbed.
The crew is glum. Daily we watch in the news and read in the CPT how the Colonial fleet and their allies the Detinas Rebels engage in a series of battle after battle that results in the destruction of the majority of the Pennockians prized MoWs.
It seems the HUNTER'S MOON, SCAFLOCK, and number of Colonial starcaptains that outrank Gus have finally been upgraded to Baseship, and are quite eager to steal all the glory. Feeling forgotten and insulted, morale on the SEA DEVIL plummets.
To add to our woes one of our best officers Will Pendleton asks for a transfer and is given command of one of the 80 starships captured from the Quman during the war, the SoL WCE BUSHWACKER. While we remain in the Transhole Will is shipped immediately to the front lines.
* * *
(Fishbed 196.10) The officers are hopping mad. Seems the whole Colonial RDF is going to be involved in an operation to capture the PFM HQ DELTA PRIME, except us.
Apparently Gus did not speak up when the War Department asked for volunteers, so we are still on station here at the artificial moon Fishbed. The truth of the matter is that the Lieutenant Commander has picked himself up a girlfriend at SOUL CAGE. At the moment he's more interested in tits than tanks.
All in all, I'm happy for the interlude. I've been in the air for almost a year now, and I do not share Pelham's thirst for gore. When I get the opportunity for shore leave it feels strange to walk on the ground. For some insane reason I actually find myself eager to get back onboard the ship. Strange how these monolithic scraps of metal and fissionables can substitute for home.
* * *
(WCE SOUL CAGE 196.11) Something Terrible has happened. While Gus was planet side with his wench John Pelham and the rest of the officers informed us they were taking control of the ship.
Without proper clearance Pelham, Merrick, and Kidd took us out of orbit, did a BHT into Portcia, and changed the transponder on our starship to IND ASSASSIN!
The crew is in an uproar. We gathered in the Forum and listened to what Pelham had to say, none of it surprising. They are sick of sitting around. They want to fight, and are amazingly honest about their admission they really didn't care much who they fire at, so long as they are in the heat of battle. "That's what warships do," Pelham finished quite simply. I think the man is insane. And he's in command of our ship!
All those wishing to debark would be allowed to do so at the earliest opportunity. When, remains unclear.
Terry fumed, "I didn't sign up for this. How am I ever going to ever get a job cooking in the Transhole?"
Life was exciting enough onboard a warship supported by the might of the Colonial Empire. Flying IND, without the protection of any government, seems not only dangerous, but suicidal.
* * *
(System Unknown 196.13) We are enroute to a pirate base in the Periphery run by the Gallowglass crime family. There is an uneasy tension on the ship. A lot of the crew loyal to the Colonials want off, pronto.
Enroute to our destination Pelham and Merrick had it out. Possibly over command. Side arms were drawn and a couple of computer consoles shot up. Our marines pulled them apart and threw Merrick into the brig. Over Coast Zone they zipped him up in a suit of battle armor and tossed him out the airlock. (Author's Note: Later we learned Merrick survived the plunge and months later would turn up on the command deck of his own IND corsair.)
Once we'd landed at the Gallowglasses underground base the crew were given the option of re-signing or debarking. I really didn't know what to do. Did I really want to entrust my fate to Pelham and a band of cutthroats? Kidd offered me a job in his department, and like an idiot I took it.
Along with our Chief Engineer Henry Sibley and 100 others Terry bid us good-bye in the starport. I helped her with her duffel bag, tossing it on the rack of a beat up, greasy flitter. She took one long last look at the mammoth warship and gave it a parting salute.
"So long Woody. Don't let me read about No. 1114 in the obit's." She gave me a hug. "The galley's all yours now."
"No, I signed on with Signals. They've got me on the computer."
"Out of the kitchen, and into the fire. Good luck."
"Thanks."
There goes my favorite boss ever. I expect that will be the last I'll see of Terry Foote. (Author's Note: Not true.)
While in the starport I wired my last story into the CPT. I got a hacker to tap into the STC lines and e-mail the file to the CPT. I ended with the lines: "I am about to embark on the IND ASSASSIN. Woody."
One TU later I received a response: a receipt for *1000 stellars that had been deposited in my STC account, and a note.
The hacker handed me a short print-out: "You're fired. Curry."
The rest of the day we were laid up on the ground waiting for the officers to hire 100 new crew from among the riff raff in the starport. Our new hands hail from all Regions. With Merrick and Pendleton gone Pelham hired two new officers, among them is a young ensign named Lorik O'Brien, son of the late great pirate baron Sean O'Brien. It's a motley crew. We've got an FET smuggler running the galley, a winged Barot named Glider that serves as a gunny, and an ex-CPT reporter on the bridge manning the signals booth.
This could be a bumpy ride.
* * *
(Petroom 196.18) The newly christened IND ASSASSIN made its debut appearance in the Periphery by joining the FGZ fleet massed in the SSQ over Petroom. In formation around us are 17 Flagritz Baseships, warships from three squadrons, the Nomad's, Grey's, and Sith's.
The only real pirates enroute, a RIP Corsair, has been accidentally targeted and toasted by an incoming AIS Devastator. Oops.
"Not a good omen," Pelham remarked. He didn't get any happier. Right behind us in the line of ships are a couple of other IND warships, including Lt. William Pendleton commanding the IND BUSHWACKER. In three months Will shipped out he'd been in a half dozen battles, and eventually gotten himself thrown out of the Colonials for destroying the QSN ATTAGIRL in Quoda. Apparently the Transhole is attempting to iron out its differences with the Qumans at the peace table. Firebrands like Pendleton no longer find themselves welcome in the WCE.
But they are certainly welcome among the Flagritz.
The day after our arrival two ISP Dreadnaughts try to run our blockade and die miserably. With them goes Star Admiral Dax Krieger and the EEM SWORD OF PRUSSIA. Unfortunately Dax responded to ISP Admiral S.S. von Foxxl's distress signal and against overwhelming odds attempted to assist the Imperials.
"Now there goes a brave man," Pelham muttered. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
A lot of the crew are grumbling about what happened. What are we doing fighting on the side of aliens, killing humans? The Kriegers are well known, and well liked. The officers don't like the way Pelham is pacing the command room. Seems our big, tough Mr. Coastzip Gladiator is has a clear case of space sickness.
The bells clanged and everyone jumped a meter.
It was only an ICN pseudo-fighter. It disappeared in a dust cloud the size of Petroom's moon Aldon.
"That was a probe," said Pelham.
"Why would they bother wasting the ship? They have von Foxxl's last read-out. Plus there are those GTT and SMS ships the Ataman is letting by unmolested. They must have full scans of our fleet."
"Knowing the Imperial beauracracy, the ISP probably won't share the data with the ICN," said Pelham mopping sweat from the scars on his forehead. "Get me Will on the monitor."
Minutes later the starcaptain of the BUSHWACKER appeared on the main screen. He did not look happy to see Pelham. "What do you want?"
"What news do you have? The Nomads don't tell me anything but to sit around, and I don't like it."
"What's the matter, turning yellow? The little pseudo fighter scare you?"
Pelham threw his coffee mug at the screen.
"Get me LtCdr Nomad 1!" Pelham snapped.
In front of us all in the command room Pelham told the FGZ Fleet Commander we'd received a request from the Samillians to join them on an operation in the Belter System. Nomad 1's eye stalks bounced a little more than usual, but as far as I could tell, registered no emotion.
Through the translator we heard: "We appreciate your assistance Lieutenant Pelham and look forward to serving with you again."
Pelham saluted and barked to the navigator, "Set a course for Lefter."
As we moved out of the fleet from the way Merrick and Kidd were glancing at each other I had a feeling there might be another mutiny.
Just then I got a new set of bogeys on my screen.
"Sir!" I shouted. "There's a large force of Dreadnaughts entering SSQ 1738. They're on the far side of Petroom."
Just before we jumped out of Newbian across the main screen flashed the scans of over 100 Imperial warships.
Kidd flipped through the screens rapidly till he came to the schematic of the supra hauler ISP Konigsmark commanded by a Lt. Jack Tibbs. The excited officers crowded around the computer. Pelham whistled.
"Cybermind disruptors. They figured out the Flagritz are outfitted without battle computers. This is going to be a slaughter."
Fortunately we were well into our jump to Belter.
The results are history. Twenty-seven FGZ, IND, and AIS warships perished over Petroom. With them Will Pendleton and the BUSHWACKER.
Everyone gulped and wondered if we should have stayed and met a warrior's death.
"If we'd have stayed it wouldn't have made a damn of a difference," Pelham said.
Merrick says the ASSASSIN is lucky. Warship crews are notoriously superstitious, and will cling to any notion that helps them believe they live a charmed existence.. Everyone is now convinced No 1114 is indestructible.
TO BE CONTINUED....
NEXT TIME: Most Wanted Pirate in the Periphery!
Well, it WAS indestructible. Sigh. A ship from the Colonies, wiped out by one of their own (sorta). Eye-ron-ick.
Well, once again the 'Bone Curse' has struck. We tried lining up an interview, but the candidates either died, chickened out, or had placed me on their 'S' (Shoot) List. And everyone's tired of reading Krieger interviews. So guess what? You get to suffer with...ME!
Yes, mon gorditas, your eyes haven't failed you. We were determined to have an interview so I volunteered. Our wunnerful new intern, Rnl Krieger, drew the short straw and sat down with me at Werth's famous Veranda Miranda Patio Bar for an evening of bosso-nova karaoke and cheap tequila. He was given carte blanche (a free ticket to you SSL-types), so here's the:
Ringbone Interview: Harold Hedd
RG: Is it true that with the exception of your stint at the the Ringbone Gazette, you've been a Loser all of your life?
HH: With a capital 'L' , eh? Sort of. When you're born at then-RIP Stinkbug and have the joy of celebrating your tenth birthday working overtime in the orphanage/small arms factory while the colony's under IMPie bombardment, it kind of explains it all.
RG: What was your family life like?
HH: Odd. I grew up as a ward of the colony. My Dad was a pirate who worked for the O'Briens and got reportedly got killed during the CPR war. My mother was a scientist, a xenobiologist to be exact. She'd been a RIP prisoner of sorts, and used to appraise alien critters the pirates brought in. She made out when the IMPies took over, and got transferred to IMP Curiosity as head of the Xeno-Sciences Department. She died when the AIS overran the Curiosity and massacred everyone. I'm named after a distant relative, by the way, so I don't have either of my parents' names.
RG: What made you come to the Ringbone Gazette?
HH: Desperation. I'd just gotten fired as farm manager and needed a job. I'd submitted a few stories to the Bone that I wrote on my night shift. Maddie Mallard [the Bone's editor then] remembered my work, read my resume (with a picture from my 'buff-bod surfer' days attached), and hired me. I've been here almost ten years.
RG: Do you like being Editor?
HH: Yes. It's not as much fun as the old days, with all the partying and chocolate wrappers and latex, er, thingies lying underfoot. But I enjoy the job, especially since a few of the old gang have come back to work.
RG: How is the 'Greatest Pundit in the Galaxy' job going?
HH: Well... I think that's going to go bye-bye.
RG: Why? I thought it was a good thing for the List.
HH: Yeah... But too often it's become a real headache.
RG: What sort of headaches do you get? Alcohol-induced?
HH: Funny. One thing about being a reporter is you're supposed to remain sort-of objective. I say "sort-of" because being sentient, I view things through my experience and ethics. But as a reporter I can generally suppress them in the interest of getting the story out. A pundit isn't restricted by that; his is an "informed opinion".
RG: So what's the problem? Don't you learn a lot working for the Bone?
HH: That's the problem. As a reporter, my sources expect a certain degree of confidentiality for whatever reason. Let me give an example:
As a pundit, I asked the Flagritz if they hired mercenaries to work with them over Petroom. I got a reply from two FGZ sources basically saying they didn't control IND ships and that any coordination between then or between the FGZ and USS was 'coincidence'.
But I had the story about the RIP Assassin on my Editor's desk. True, it's just the memoirs of a low-level crew member. But Poppa Woody's background is solid and that gives the story credibility. And that story indicates the Flagritz had some, though not total, control over the IND ships during the Petroom operations. What didn't get answered was 'did the FGZ hire them'?
As for the second part about the USS- we all know the USS and Flagritz party lines.
A USS member called the Bone offices one evening and offered to hand over a diary for publication. The diary, according to him, was about his ship, the USS A-r, and its actions against the GTT on Petroom. He even described a few of the actions. The impression I got was that the A-r was working to disrupt the GTT on the ground at the same time the FGZ was in orbit. We verified that he was a USS member, and that the USS A-r was a definite Third Fleet ship. But for whatever reason, he chickened out during the negotiations and we never got the diary. As a reporter, I couldn't use what little material there was because we didn't have the diary. But as a pundit, I wouldn't have given a rat's ass. A USS Third Fleet member said there had been action, and that's good enough for a pundit to use. The pundit and the reporter are two different breeds.
RG: I'm lost.
HH: It's simple. I can't be both a reporter and a pundit because it's a conflict. To use an old saying, there's a million stories out there in Known Space. I'd rather have those stories be told by their people in the Bone, than have them used as fodder by the Pundit. So the gig is done with.
RG: That's a loss to the List.
HH: Oh, I'll still be on, but as a private citizen.
RG: Lastly, what's in your future?
HH: I kinda like being a starcaptain. I'm not keen on working for the EEM, but my Myr crew didn't like the idea of being IND during a war. Besides, I got a couple of promotions, and the stellars don't hurt. In case you haven't noticed, the Bone doesn't pay much.
RG: I noticed.
HH: Ingrate.
RG: Thanks for your time.
Now, wasn't that special? And I can supply plenty more where that came from. Stuff like the best places to surf in the Periphery, using Sampoon as a paint-remover, gummy-ball as an aerobic exercise. Of course if people (that includes aliens, by the way) would accept my invitations to be interviewed you wouldn't hafta suffer through crap like this... But I do interview well, don't I? Ouch- I just sprained my arm patting myself on the back. Gonna have to drink my margaritas through a straw for a while...
Here's a cartoon sent to us by a so-called fan. Not sure if
it's bashing the SAM, the Flagritz, or Nixon. Or is it complimenting the
Flagritz?
Okay, okay, anywhere from here is gonna be an improvement, so let's go to:
Letters to the Editor
Dear Editor;
Your newsletter sucks. It is the most ameturish and juvenile piece of [junk] that I have ever read. Why dont you write real English instead of that [crap] you do write? Are you trying to be cool or something? I doubt that you published fifty issues. And quit bashing the THC and the USS. What have they ever done to you?
A Reader
Dear Reader; thank you for your input. If I were a real juvenile amateur, I'd use this space to insult the daylights out of you, and generally abuse the power I have as Editor In Chief to make you look as big an ass as possible. But I'll just print your letter. Ain't I nice? Oh, and use a spell-checker.
Hedd;
Peace? No way, man! Death! Destruction! Yeah, baby- that's it! Nuke them until they glow. Stir the ashes with a stick and then- NUKE 'EM AGAIN!!! They say I'm too violent but what do they know? Milk-sucking Wimps! Kill 'em all. Yeah baby- we ain't done yet. Shoot them all up. Dead! Dead! Dead! Havoc and dogs of war, baby!!
The Mad Warmonger, Somewhere in Space
Okay, King Richard...put down the sword. Maybe the Oberon's will take you under their wing. Better yet, why don't you head out to the ROC and fight with them? I hear Buffalo Bill Cody and his sacred Presidente are looking for a few more able-bodied psychos. Besides you'll get a chance to develop your rhetoric. Consider it a side benefit.
Harold;
I enjoyed rereading the old issues of the Bone. Whatever happened to David Addison? And are the Partytrons really the DDR?
A longtime Bone reader
Thank King Komehameha for the first bunch of old Bones. As for Addison, who knows where he is? I'm not sure even he does.
Last I heard he might be out in USA-space somewhere (he always was a lousy navigator). He did mention something in a missive recently about 'brainpan-draining'. And the Partytrons being the DDR? I dunno. Maybe the RoC has information, but they're too busy hiding in their secret clubhouse, giving each other secret handshakes, and whacking each other on the butt with paddles to tell anyone.
In the early editions of the Bone, there was a series called 'Rollo McAllister - Agent of the STC'. Rollo was a non-descript man, who with his telepathic sidekick, Squith, chased down the deadbeats of the galaxy. Kinda of a collection agent/repo man. The last story was over ten years ago, and we wondered what happened to him. So here is the first part of a sequel:
Rollo McAllister, Agent of the STC
Chapter One: Waiting it Out
"We're cut off!" the voice on the comm circuit could barely be heard over the gunfire, "there's too many of them! We need support-"
"Roger, Militia Four-Two, this is the STC Security team. We're on the way. What's your location?"
"Rec-plex One, second level. We've got sixty-percent casualties and our company officer is dead. The bastards are coming at us with combat shuttles! Help!"
"Hold on, Four-Two. We're trying to get through the rubble-"
"Where's our ground-fighters? Where's the effing tanks? We're getting slaughtered out here!"
"We're almost there, Four-Two. ETA is two minutes. Hang in there-"
"Too late!" the voice screamed, "Theye broke through! We're done for! Damn you, McAllister! Damn you to hell!"
The sound of crashing glass woke me up. I looked down at the smashed lamp and my bloody hand. I was shaking and covered with a cold sweat.
* * * *
Six months.
Six more months and I could retire.
Sure, I could've taken medical retirement. I'd been doing a minor collection job when SSL Arkham got attacked. Senior STC guy on scene meant taking command of our security unit during the first attack. We didn't win, but I survived. And got pressed into the militia when the KZK made their move.
I was right next to the Governor when he decided to turn against our captors. We charged their tanks. Goldfarb and most of our militia unit bought it in the first blast. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess, if you want to call it lucky.
After Arkham was recaptured, Stellar Treasury had a medic look at the patchwork of scars on my body and a psych-tech look at my mind. They examined my records, clucked a few times at the health reports, then offered me an early out. Nice little retirement package and a ticket anywhere.
But Arkam's bank-branch needed rebuilding and I was practically the only representative left in the place. So what if I wasn't a banker? I was still STC. It was a matter of keeping busy. And keeping from going completely nuts.
I rubbed the newly-healed scars on my hand and looked over the reams of information on my desk. Office-equipment requests, files of resumes from colonists (a good portion probably dead), reports how much of the stellar transaction data was being recovered from the branch's computers. Oh, and fifteen new stellar-transfer requests awaiting my thumbprint and approval. I pressed the required digit to each form and signed my name: 'Rollo MacAllister, Acting Branch Manager' on each one. There used to be a macro available for that stuff, but the computer system was still on the fritz.
'Rollo?" It was Maitha, my Assistant Manager. Also my Transactions Manager, my Construction Supervisor, and Data Recovery Project Manager. She also made a damn good cup of Ghettian java and played a mean hand of poker. If she hadn't been romantically involved with a WCE starcaptain, I'd have asked her to marry me.
"More paperwork?" I asked. She shook her head.
"No, a call over the comm-link. A secure one, believe it or not. Took me five minutes to find the damn decoder chip."
"Didn't know we had any intact ones left. Who was it from?"
"Periphery Main Office. The head honcho wants a meeting with you. She's over at the hotel, or what's left of it. Suite Three."
A cold spot developed at the base of my spine. They don't send out a Region Officer unless the job's too nasty, too critical, or too time-sensitive to be done by a regular agent. Like dealing with rogue agents in need of retirement...
"Fine," I forced a smile on my face, "I'll take a stroll over there. Fresh air might do me some good."
"Rollo?" Maitha called as I reached the door, "you forgot this." She reached into my desk drawer and pulled out my Spenser hand-laser.
"What do I need that for?" I tried to sound amused, "aren't there enough armed Kazerickii around to keep the pickpockets away?"
"Take the damn thing," she glared, "I'd feel better if you had it." I pressed the holster to the side of my chest, felt it adhere into place, and put my jacket over it.
"Thanks, Maitha." I said quietly.
"Get going," she smiled, "doesn't look good for a Branch Manager to be late."
"Or even an acting one," I replied, and headed for the hotel.
Ah, yes- hardboiled fiction. dark nights, wet streets, cheap booze, and all that. Too bad I couldn't find a saxaphone piece to slap in at this point. Guess you'll have to use your imagination. Don't use mine- the only thing I can supply would be the fog.
Speaking of retro, we thought about rerunning an interview with Ma Krieger, but we're almost out of space (stop that cheering!). But- we still have space for a Bone favorite:
Rumor and Innuendo
by Bone's Society Editor, Kinki DeWins
* Certain Transhole races may be gearing up for an intra-regional war.
* The Grand Alliance may be there for the long haul.
* Two fantastic alien artifacts have been found in the Periphery, and there may be at least two more yet undiscovered.
* Larissa Oberon has a steady beau, and wedding bells may be in the air. Oberon patriarch Drax reportedly has set up a funeral plan for the fiance in case he doesn't survive the honeymoon.
* A certain scourge out in the Draconian region may have its origins in distant Periphery history.
* Two more Kriegers are on-line for the Autumn..well, sort-of Kriegers...
* Members of both sides are looking at the peace treaty as buying preparation time for new attacks.
Well Kids, so ends another mediocre issue of the Bone. Stay tuned for the next issue where we hope to finish the Father Larry saga, continue with the third chapter of the Assassin, another segment of Rollo, and maybe have an interview with a noted celebrity. Oh, and RADman promised us an article. Ciao!
Advertisment Advertisement Advertisement
QWAZAR Publications presents:
The Collected Speeches of William Cody
(Volume 1)
Yes- it's finally here! Often clamored for, it's the collected speeches of that great Coronan statesman- William Cody.
Bound in hand worked bosseven-leather, this 15,647-page volume of some of the most voluble orations will be a grand addition to your library. Amaze your friends when they see it propping up your coffee table. Thrill to read such passages as:
Openess is a virtue, Free access to information and Technology is the Foundation of our Republic! But Democracy is a greater virtue! A free democracy demands that the veil of secrecy forever protect the hallowed booth. What a man thinks, and how a man votes, are sacred secrets. Democracy cannot survive complete openess.
Marvel at the emotion expressed in speeches like:
Gird up thyself! Lift once more the trusty sword, steel your hearts. Resist the clawing stench of the infidel! Sweep back the dark shadow of tyranny, the jack-booted Dominium, their Zombie cultists, and their dark seething thirst for human blood. Cleanse Blowton with righteous fire!
And the wisdom:
With the vision of the ballot box ever in your mind, destroy the accursed aboriginals! Suffer not the insurrectionists to pollute the fair air of Geeche with their breath. Rip the livers from their bodies, leave their bones to bleach in the sun!
The Naviar, the STC, imperialism, the blessed Republic, all are covered by Cody's amazing perception and vocabulary. But don't just take our word for it:.
I couldn't put it down. Then again, I couldn't pick it up.- A Morlock historian
An amazing insight into the Republic of Corona. A must-read! - Naviar supporter
Beats watching monkey-porn flicks - Nicholas Van Rijin, prisoner
Useful.. our sewer connection is still cut off and we're using porta-potties - STC branch employee, ROC Corona
Better than Black Lotus! - a Transhole citizen
Is it 'one if by Land' or 'one for the Road'? Damn, I forgot... - Chuck U. Farley
The Collected Speeches of William Cody- available at a merchandising complex near you.
The Bone would like to thank the following:
"Banjo" Hatterson (your check is on the way)
King Komehameha Annie Ominous
"Poppa" Woody White Satin Coffee Shop
China Garden Restaurant, Flagstaff, Az William "Buffalo Bill" Cody
David Addison- for checking in Clan Oberon (just to stay on their good side..)