What is that now? Part 5? I can't seem to Recall...

Matrix

Rear Admiral
2681.035.1021 - So Now What?

"Okay, it's done," James watched the medical scanner complete its analysis. "My turn I guess."

Gordon got up from the bed and James took his place. He pressed a green button on the panel overhead, beginning the scanning sequence. Part of the panel extended either side of his head, cradling it and lightly pressing against his temples. Gordon saw the heart rate and blood pressure readings appear, soon followed by a brain activity read out. James closed his eyes as the part of the panel slid out above his head, emanating a bright light. It slowly progressed over the length of his body to the tip of his toes. The light subtly changed colour and retreated into its resting position.

"Now the bit I hate," James grimaced as he heard the curved instrument slide out from beneath the bed and stop in place. He put his hand into the device and felt a prick on the middle finger as a small blood sample was taken. Several seconds passed before Lieutenant Vence saw the display become littered with what he assumed was the blood composition. As the sampling unit slid away, a mouthpiece extended to James' face, covering his nose and lips. He calmly breathed through it, fogging up the clear plastic with each exhalation. Several more readings popped up on the display. Finally the tube withdrew and the headrest receded as well.

James sat up on the bed and poked at the control panel by the medical scanner's display. "Nothing unusual, but Micas will take a look at our analyses just to double check," he explained.

Gordon just nodded.

Lieutenant O'Connor switched on a wall mounted radio, "Captain, we're done here."

"Alright," Thomas' voice squawked, "I suggest you make yourselves useful and try get some repairs done on the Weasel."

"Good idea," Gordon threw in.

"Aye Sir," James spoke into the radio and then switched it off. "Let's get to it, shall we."

"You lead the way," Lieutenant Vence indicated.

"Well have to get some equipment from cargo bay 6. Luckily they converted bay 5 into the hangar so we don't have to lug it far," James was in a talkative mood as he stepped through the sliding door. He had spent enough time in bed - there was only so much sleep he could force on himself.

"So how come the Captain had you resting?" Gordon asked as he followed Lieutenant O'Connor down the corridor.

"Oh, just a bump on the head," James pointed. "Occupational hazard," he grinned, "The Cap can be a bit over protective sometimes."

"So it seems," Gordon mused, "I wonder how such a docile man became the commander of a military vessel."

"Oh, we're not military," James replied offhandedly

The answer caught Gordon off guard - almost causing him to miss his footing on the metal steps they were descending.

"At least that's the impression I get - sifting through rocks in the middle of nowhere." James stopped at a nearby porthole, "Welcome to Fariss quadrant, asteroid central."

Gordon too looked out one of the few windows on the Icarus. Among the myriad stars he recognised the haze of a distant asteroid field - the Icarus obviously circumnavigating it. "What were you looking for out there?"

Lieutenant O'Connor shrugged, still looking out into the darkness, "Anything. Anything of interest." James knew he couldn't satisfy the pilot's curiosity, despite the thrill of the discovery. He turned to face Gordon, "New minerals. Lost probes. Pirate caches. You know? That sort of thing."

Lieutenant Vence watched a stray rock slowly drift by. He wondered if they had found something, but preferred to avoid a direct question. "I guess the likelihood of finding something out there warrants this trip then."

"Or so think the mathematicians," James replied without a moments thought. He took a few steps down the wide corridor, stopping by a large door. "If you want my opinion, I reckon statistics can be bent to look good either way." He pushed a button on a nearby panel and soon a green light shone upon it, indicating the airlock was safe to enter. The door slid aside and they walked into the small white room, lit by cool fluorescent tubes and a flashing red warning light on the ceiling. The door sealed behind them, and shortly the door to the hangar opened a crack, allowing in a decidedly chill gust. They watched the door rise, steadily revealing a human silhouette from its boots to scraggly hair. It was Travis. In one hand he held a freshly uncorked bottle - from which he promptly took a long swill.

"Fancy seeing you here," James led the way out of the airlock.

Lieutenant Keene belched silently and wiped his mouth with a cuff, "The Captain had me move the explosives back in here."

"Explosives?" Gordon hesitated.

"Yeah. Sometimes it simpler to blow a 'roid apart to see what's inside," Travis answered, corking the bottle. "If you'll excuse me," he entered the airlock and the door closed.

James was already rummaging through a tools chest, "Looks like everything we need is here. If you take this lot, I'll grab the welder."

Gordon nodded and walked over to pick up the heavy case. He noticed a smaller box with a clear lid showing neatly arranged circuit boards of varying size. "Should I take these spares too?" he asked, recognising the components of an on-board computer.

"What?" James wheeled out the tall welding unit, "Oh yeah, sure. You must've got more than a few holes in that Weasel of yours."

Gordon grinned, "About the only thing that doesn't need replacing is the flight stick, and that's only cause my hand was shielding it."

"Yeah what happened in there?" Lieutenant O'Connor pulled the welding kit up to the airlock door and pushed a button. "You were singed when you came out."

"I think the radar display caught fire when I lost targeting. Luckily the extinguishers did their job. I still had to fly blind with a cockpit full of smoke for a few minutes."

James chuckled as he wheeled the cart into the now open airlock, "Travis always flies blind. It's surreal when he lands and the top of the cockpit opens, setting free a cloud of smoke," he made a wide gesture with his hand.

It was Gordon's turn to chuckle. He followed James into the airlock and the door sealed behind them - opening the way out into the corridor. They walked the short distance to another airlock with a number large number five painted on. Lieutenant Vence spotted the sign "Flight-Deck" that he hadn't previously noticed, on the way out. Once through the airlock, Gordon looked around the small hangar. Aside from his Weasel, a shuttle was parked here along with two mining pods, leaving room enough for one more craft. The flight-deck was small by comparison to those he had become accustomed to. So small in fact that either the Weasel or the Shuttle would have to be moved to allow the mining craft to depart. Lieutenant Vence imagined the Gargoyle's spacious hangar bay - he remembered the call-sign on every craft that had stood there.

"I'll fix the outside if you fix it on the inside," James suggested.

"Yeah, that suits me fine. I think the last time I welded was for basic maintenance class at the Academy."

"Well that wasn't too long ago for me," Lieutenant O'Connor stopped the welder near the Weasels front where the armour damage was most extensive. "I nearly flunked electronics though. It's all black magic to me," he wiggled his fingers in the air.

Gordon shrugged and dumped the tool-chest nonchalantly on the flight deck, "I don't know what each IC does either, but our mechanics were always fooling with the computer components. So I quickly learnt how to keep my craft tuned." He gently put down the case of spare parts and hopped up on the still extended ladder to the cockpit.

"Funny that," James mused, "Welding came in handy cause when you get a little too personal with the rocks, things tend to get bent and snap off."

Gordon leaned into the cockpit to assess the damage, "Oh man!"

"What?"

"The whole dash looks a mess," he retreated down the ladder for a screwdriver.

"Here," James walked over to a two-wheeled step ladder standing against the wall and pulled it over to the fighter, "You might want to use this. That way you can put the toolbox on top."

"Hey, yeah. Thanks," Gordon locked the wheels and proceeded to lug the heavy case atop.

"I guess I'd better get started on my bit then," James put on his work gloves as he strolled to the opposite end of the hangar. He grabbed the handle of a cargo trolley and leaning on it, pushed downward. By means of leverage, the heavy load of assorted armour plates was lifted, and the trolley wheels unlocked.

"Say, you need some help with that?" Lieutenant Vence asked as he placed the box of spare parts where he could reach them more easily.

"No Thanks, I can handle it," James replied tugging at the slowly moving mass.

Gordon eyed the young Lieutenant and returned to his work - undoing the screws that held the dashboard in place, he lifted it off. The damage hadn't been as extensive as he had thought, despite everything looking charred. Several elements were badly damaged and would need to be replaced. A few cables had also melted, leaving a tangle of exposed copper and fibre-optic threads. Gordon was thankful the ship's flight controls weren't as prone to damage - otherwise he may have never made it to the Icarus.

"Lesse," the Lieutenant muttered to himself as he began pulling out the damaged components, "I'll need one of these..."

As he pulled the disfigured parts out, he noticed the main-board that serviced most console functions had remained intact. 'Better check that just in case,' he thought. As he reached for the test module he briefly glanced at James, who was searching through the stack on the trolley for the right piece of metal to replace the damaged armour panel. He finally lifted a long narrow piece up to the damaged part of the fuselage and grinned with satisfaction.

Lieutenant Vence dove back into the cockpit and plugged in the testing unit. He flipped a cap on the now detached dashboard and pushed the button beneath. The multifunctional displays flickered then displayed a single line error code. Gordon poked at the handheld portion of the testing tool and watched as a complete test ran its course. Upon completion, the display reported full functionality with a projected reliability of 98.2%. Gordon frowned, 'One of the chips must be shot.' He couldn't be bothered searching for the culprit and decided he could live with the less than 2% risk of something going haywire. His ship would probably undergo a complete rehaul anyway, given the state it was in.

He switched off the ship's onboard computer and reached for a can of general-purpose electrical cleaning solution. He sprayed the oily, foaming substance generously on the main-board and into the contacts. As the soot stained liquid dripped off, Gordon opened the clear plastic box and dug up some replacement cables. The bright flash of a laser welder caught his eye, indicating that James had started removing the damaged panel.

Gordon reached deep into the bowels of the wiry mess usually hidden by the dashboard, in search of a particular plug. Whilst searching, he felt the unpleasant prickle of metal points on his arm. Having found the desired plug, he squeezed the catch and yanked the connector, replacing it with the new one he was holding against his palm with his little finger, curled. Withdrawing his hand, he felt the sharp metal scratching at his arm. Sure enough he had earned two shallow gashes running the length of his lower arm, from wrist to elbow. He shrugged off the wounds and connected the cable's other plug into the main-board. Replacing the other two damaged cables was far easier as the plugs were plainly visible.

Gordon nearly jumped, suddenly startled by a loud clang of metal against metal.

"Sorry," James lifted his face guard and grinned; the liberated armour plate at his feet. "I didn't have a third arm to catch it," he shrugged.

"Damn nearly fell off," Lieutenant Vence muttered as fished out a new radar component and inserted it into the ship's computer. Confed ensured that even a monkey could perform basic fighter repairs. Everything was modular and easily identified so the chances of making a mistake were minimal. He glanced at the other modules that had been damaged - weapons and targeting. The first wasn't a problem, but there was no targeting system with ITTS. Gordon shrugged, 'Like I ever use it anyway.' He replaced the missing parts and switched on the ship's computer again. This time several systems checks were performed and completed okay. A malfunction assessment was then displayed, reporting moderate damage to shield generators, engines and the ejection system - nothing the auto-repair system couldn't fix once in flight, yet the ejection system worried the Lieutenant.

He wasn't sure where the fault lay. He reached under the seat with both hands and released the catches, causing the seat cushion to pop up slightly. Gordon lifted it to check beneath. Everything seemed to be in order. The compact oxygen tank and backup battery showed no signs of corrosion or heat damage, and their gauges indicated nominal levels. The cabling running under the flight-seat was also intact. He lowered the seat cushion, snapping it into the locked horizontal position. Next he lifted off the headrest which hid a panel of four routing modules. He removed each in turn, checking for any signs of physical damage - noticing a blown fuse on the second. Finding an appropriate substitute amongst the spare parts, he replaced the entire unit. Gordon did not wish to delve into whether the fuse had blown due to some external short circuit or malfunction of the module itself. He replaced the headrest and reran the damage evaluation. The ejection system was indeed more effective, though still not at 100%.

"Aw, good 'nuff," Gordon was satisfied with what was working. He replaced the dashboard panel and cleaned it off with a rag from the toolbox. The radar displayed appeared to be working fine. Obviously some other element had begun the fire. He tested the on-board computer one last time, turned it off then descended the ladder.

James had already welded on the replacement armour panel up front, and was now busy removing a badly scorched panel near the base of an engine. Though a wide-beam laser welder didn't spark like a traditional arc welder, the occasional ball of molten metal found its way to the floor, spattering red specks that quickly cooled and solidified.

"You sure work fast," Gordon examined James' handiwork closely. The unpainted panel stood out like a sore thumb, but the joining was clean and regular.

"Hey I just set the beam intensity, penetration depth, and follow the dotted line," James was obviously smiling under the protective mask he wore.

Gordon remembered one more thing he could check while James finished up. A muffled clang reverberated in the hangar while Lieutenant Vence circled to the to opposite side of the ship. He kneeled down and undid two small bolts with a spanner he had prepared. A panel swung open wildly, revealing a numerous cables and pipes. Gordon thumbed through the tangle of wires, tugging each one gently to check if any were severed. Having checked all the cables only two appeared to be loose - on the cockpit side. 'Great!' Gordon thought. Now he would have to find where the two cables had become loose. As he walked around back to the stepladder he saw James had already trimmed the replacement armour plate, and had begun to weld it in place. He stood with one knee pressed against the metal, holding it in place. While one hand aimed the tip of the welder, the other held a thin rod of metal in place. A bit of molten metal slithered down the hull and set as it cooled. Another dripped onto the flight-deck, an inch from James' boot.

"You sure you don't need any help?" Gordon held the stepladder with one hand.

"I'm fine," James replied, seemingly concentrating on the job at hand.

Gordon smiled, climbing back up to the cockpit. He understood the young Lieutenant's reply because he himself had to learn to ask for help - the hard way. Perhaps he would tell James the story after they finished. Though only a few years older, Gordon had aged quickly in the flight-seat. He never got a taste of war, but there were still pirates and rebellions to quell.

He reached down beneath the flight-seat's cushion and released it again. He lifted it up and checked each wire using the same procedure as before. Again, two cables were obviously unattached - the colours seemed to match too, though he would double check later. Why did there have to be so many cables here? He contemplated his next move. Though he had fiddled in his dashboard on several occasions, he rarely diagnosed any other faults. That job was left to the Gargoyle's engineers. The cables could either run into the dashboard or further forward into the lengthy nose cone. He lowered the seat cushion and jumped into the fighter. Lifting the dashboard up he surveyed its dark depths with a small flashlight from the toolbox. Each of the bundles or wire that were connected there seemed intact. He switched off the torch, lowered the dashboard back in place and got out of the fighter.

James had already attached two opposite corners of the armour plate, allowing him to stand on both feet. Lieutenant Vence kneeled beneath the fighter's nose. He immediately spotted the small service panel and used the spanner from his pocket to open it. The small, thick metal door dropped open, releasing a rain of black debris over Gordon's lap and onto the flight deck.

"Sheesh! Somebody got me real good." The thought of just how close he had come to death didn't even figure in Lieutenant Vence's mind. He looked down at the floor where James had left the damaged armour panel. There was a hole clean through the plate of shielding. Now he realised that the shot had pulverised the radar antenna and caused the short circuit in the cabin. He reached into the hole, feeling something cylindrical that was obviously no longer attached. As he took out the charred object it crumbled in his hand. 'Ion gun damage,' he thought, letting the singed fragments drop to the ground. Reaching into the compartment he checked the integrity of the walls and the other instruments inside.

'A few inches to the front and he'd have nailed my communications,' Gordon mused as he brushed the dark brittle flakes out with his hand. 'A few inches back, and I could say goodbye to one of my mass drivers,' he looked pointedly and a stubby gun barrel reflecting the hangar bay's light. Only the radar had been damaged, although completely. Remembering the loose cables he reached in search of them and soon pulled out a blackened piece of circuitry with two wires still attached. Gordon breathed a sigh of relief as he disconnected them from what remained of the radar. Surprisingly the plugs had survived intact, which meant he would be spared the fiddly job of having to replace them.

"Now where do I find a radar antenna?" he got up.

James had finished with the second panel and had lifted his protective mask to assess his handiwork.

"Do you have any spare radar antennae onboard?" Gordon knew there wasn't one in the box of spare parts.

"Hmm," Lieutenant O'Connor tried to remember, "I don't think so. Just take one out of the mining pods. They don't have the same range but should fit."

"You sure?"

James shrugged, "I doubt we'll be using them for a while."

"Well I'd rather check with the Captain first."

"The comlink's by the door."

Gordon walked the short distance to the airlock and switched on the wall mounted radio, "Uh, Captain Harvey? This is Lieutenant Vence. The radar in my fighter was completely destroyed and I was wondering if I could replace it with one from a mining pod?" He waited uneasily for the answer.

After a short silence, the radio came to life, "Yes, sure. Go ahead. We won't be using the mining craft for quite some time."

"Thank you, Sir," Gordon switched the communicator off.

James looked at him somewhat amused and dragged the welder around to the other side of the ship. He located the last and smallest panel to replace, and began its removal. In the meantime Gordon walked over to the nearest mining pod and found an access panel in the bulge beneath the mining laser arm. He opened it, revealing the part he was looking for. He undid the four screws holding the radar in place and unplugged it. Once removed, he then closed the service panel and walked back to his Weasel - content that replacement would do just fine. Kneeling down, he stuffed the radar through the small opening and set it in place. He fixed it down with the four screws, reattached the loose plugs and finally sealed the compartment door. Walking around to the rear of the ship, he saw James cutting a small piece of armour to fit the hole that he had already made. Gordon checked the cabling one last time and closed the other panel, satisfied. Finally he climbed back in the cockpit and made sure the dashboard was screwed down. There was no point in testing the radar now - the effectiveness of his repairs would be revealed in flight.

"Well I'm done," Lieutenant Vence beamed as he took the two boxes off the step ladder and wheeled it back up against the wall. He removed the two discarded armour plates and swept up the sooty debris.

"Me too," James proclaimed as the soft humming of the welder suddenly died. "There! Good as new," he pulled the welder toward the airlock, pausing to look back on the ship. "So what's the story behind your call-sign?"

"I do Voodoo," Gordon grinned, stepping up to the air-lock with a box in each dirty hand.

"Really?"

"Nah. I used to have dreadlocks before I entered the academy. So armed with the right picture, my brother spread a rumour that I was a Rastafarian who dabbled in black magic," Gordon couldn't help but smile. They entered the airlock as he continued, "It actually came in handy when the older cadets took initiation a little too far. I started chanting, and my brother pretended to go into a trance. We must have been convincing cause they sure cleared out in a hurry."

James laughed out loud, "You're kidding?"

Gordon shook his head, "You should've seen the looks on their faces when they each found a headless chicken in their locker the next morning."

James kept laughing; nearly stumbling into the airlock to cargo bay 6.

"After that, whenever someone got out of line we threatened them with their rag doll likeness," Gordon continued. "My brother even made mock-ups of some of the fighters. He had it all worked out." It didn't feel so bad until he thought of how much he would miss Justin.

James saw the expression change on Gordon's face. He turned to face the door out of the airlock and silently wheeled the welder out once it opened. Gordon followed behind and put the two cases he carried back in their place.

"We'd better get cleaned up now," James suggested.

"What's that noise?" Gordon frowned slightly.

They both stood in silence, listening to a low, growing rumble.

"It's the jump drive powering up," James recognised the familiar droning.

The buzzing intensified, filling the small cargo bay. They felt the ship vibrate then abruptly jerk, as if passing through some unseen barrier. Finally the sound died down and only the engines' endless hum could be heard.

"We've jumped," Gordon noted, though he wasn't quite sure where.

"So, you up for a little zero-G snooker before lunch?"
 

Matrix

Rear Admiral
Another pretty slow moving episode. Next scetion we should see some action...Promise.
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Comments anyone?
 
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klaus

Spaceman
"Yummers"!

How long 'til the next part?
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"This matter winds itself ever in new riddles.", Faramir - The Lord of The Rings
 
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Matrix

Rear Admiral
LOL! Soon...sooner if you write my MFC based program for me.
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Quarto

Unknown Enemy
Hmmm... in a hurry, were you
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? There are several mistakes. Let's see...

1. "Oh, we're not military," James replied offhandedly - something's missing at the end of that sentence...

2. asteroid field - I've never heard of asteroids actually concentrating in fields rather then belts (except for Oort clouds, but that's another story) outside of games. Still, since this is a WC based story...


3. "Yeah. Sometimes it simpler to blow a 'roid apart to see what's inside," - it's.

4. Gordon grinned, "About the only thing that doesn't need replacing is the flight stick, and that's only cause my hand was shielding it." -
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"You don't have to worry about the hand (in the cockpit) taking damage" - Armada Quotes.
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5. "Yeah what happened in there?" - "Yeah, what happened in there?" or even "Yeah. What happened in there?"

6. The flight-deck was small by comparison to those he had become accustomed to. - "In comparison" might be better.

7. call-sign - Let me guess. Word suggested that
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. "Callsign" is the one that's normally used. Just tell Word to add it to the dictionary.

8. He glanced at the other modules that had been damaged - weapons and targeting. The first wasn't a problem, but there was no targeting system with ITTS. - Confusing. I don't quite know what, but I know there is a mistake in there. Maybe that's supposed to be "without"? Also, I'm not sure if I would describe the lack of weapons as "no problem"
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.


9. "Aw, good 'nuff," Gordon was satisfied with what was working. - Really? I'd be kinda worried if my ejection system didn't work 100%
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. Mind you, when we flew the Dralthi in WC1 SM2, we had no ejection system at all
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.

10. Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon - Get my drift?
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11. He never got a taste of war, but there were still pirates and rebellions to quell. - Rebellions to quell? I would advise scratching that line. The closest thing to a rebellion had been the BW conflict, and that was caused by elements within Confed. It didn't lead to prolonged fighting, and it wasn't about "quelling" a "rebellion". In fact, the conflict wasn't so much about the BW's secession as it was about the troubles along the Confed/BW frontier. Why not put in a line about Retros and other terrorists, instead?

12. Remembering the loose cables he reached in search of them and soon pulled out a blackened piece of circuitry with two wires still attached. - Throw a comma in there.

13. "It actually came in handy when the older cadets took initiation a little too far. I started chanting, and my brother pretended to go into a trance. We must have been convincing cause they sure cleared out in a hurry." - Amusing, but maybe a trifle overdone. I seriously doubt that cadets are that naive. Still, why not?
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14. Gordon shook his head, "You should've seen the looks on their faces when they each found a headless chicken in their locker the next morning." -
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Was the chicken running in circles?
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And shouldn't that be "lockers"?

15. "So, you up for a little zero-G snooker before lunch?" - Will wonders never cease?
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What will they think of next?
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Iceman: "I challenge you to a game of eight-ball."
Hunter: "No way! You cheat!"
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Ok, that's about it. Another good piece, though it was indeed a bit slow moving. But if you don't write more, you'll get behind again
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.
 
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Nighthawk

Spaceman
It may be slow but that doesn't mean that it's boring!
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I like it when the pace of a story is changing every now and then. There cannot always be fast-moving dogfight action.

IMO, this chapter is somewhat relaxing to read while it keeps up the high standard of those parts already posted.
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(double grin=big grin! I refuse to put a Pokémon in my posts!)

Keep up the good work!

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No one will hear your cry of death in the void of space


[This message has been edited by Nighthawk (edited March 08, 2000).]
 
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Matrix

Rear Admiral
Quarto:
No not in a hurry. I took two days, but since it was such a slow moving piece I only proof read it thrice instead of the usual 4 or 5 times...no, I'm not kidding.

1. Okay maybe it was a little *too* offhandedly.
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2. Actually they form in rings, but there's no reason any area of asteroids couldn't be called a field.

3. Definately.

4. Yes, yes, I remember those. *sigh*

5. Yeah, okay.
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6. Not only might, it is.

7. You guessed right, but I'm still not sure about "callsign." If I find it in the Oxford dictionary then I'll change it.

8. YAY! I finally managed to confuse you...just like you do it to me.
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The weapons module was no problem, a targeting system with ITTS was.

9. You? Worried about not being able to eject? Are you feeling okay?
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10. Lieutenant Vence Lieutenant Vence Lieutenant Vence Lieutenant Vence Lieutenant Vence - Get mine? And to add to that - he he he he he he he he he.
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11. Hmm. Nobody ever said all the people on every Confed planet were happy that way. I'll think about it.

12. I might even split that up.

13. Hmm. You're right. If I think of something more subtle, I substitute it. But cadets are naive.
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14. Nope, because there was a chicken in *each* locker.

15. Actually a friend did it for an OpenGL project.


You forget I still have the lead...for now. =D

Nighthawk:
Thankee! For a change of pace, they'll be getting in a fight soon. And I too refuse to put Pokémon in my posts. Who's the idiot that changed it around!?
 
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klaus

Spaceman
[whisper] LOAF did it... [/whisper]

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see?

one more...

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"This matter winds itself ever in new riddles.", Faramir - The Lord of The Rings
 
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Quarto

Unknown Enemy
2. I suppose...
4. I recently found a whole 'nother batch of quotes on the KSaga CD. But they're not as funny as the Armada quotes.
7. Do you think you'll find Steltek there too?
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8. Is that what the case was? Then maybe you should rephrase it... a lot
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.
9. Why wouldn't I be? The only reason I don't normally eject is because it's a waste of time in WC games; usually you're captured and have to replay the mission anyway.
10. Lieutenant, Lieutenant Vence, callsign... Voodoo, wasn't it?, Gordon. There's no excuse
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.

Ah, but do you really have the lead? Or is it just an optical illusion? Perhaps you don't know the whole truth... and you haven't seen my Chapter VIII
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.
 
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klaus

Spaceman
chapter 8? where?
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------------------
"This matter winds itself ever in new riddles.", Faramir - The Lord of The Rings
 
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Quarto

Unknown Enemy
Why, on my computer, of course
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. And I've started Chapter IX, too.
 
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klaus

Spaceman
Mmmmm...

I can wait.

Or perhaps I could hack into it.
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------------------
"This matter winds itself ever in new riddles.", Faramir - The Lord of The Rings
 
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Matrix

Rear Admiral
7. Steltek is a name.
8. Well when I say stuff like that, you ignore me. So I'll go right ahead and do the exact same.
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9. Replaying a mission. Hmm.
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10. Callsign Shaman. You haven't been paying attention.
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As for volume, like I said in the mail - you have indeed taken the lead. Maybe I should get mad and stop writing comments?
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Is it just me or has the use of other smileys increased since the grin was sabotaged?
 
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Quarto

Unknown Enemy
10. He only said it once
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. I did actually try to check it up when I was writing that post, but the connection was really slow, and I kept getting timed out about halfway through. There are days like that, unfortunately.

Actually, you are still ahead marginally. You said you were 4000 ahead, and I asked if you've got 34,500 (which is what you would have needed to be 4000 ahead). I currently have roughly 31,000. Would be more, but I got stuck yesterday
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.

The use of other smileys has indeed increased. But I don't like having the range of smileys restricted
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.
So, I'll use the Kilrathi smileys
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.
 
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