Pleasure to make you acquaintance, “Betty.”
May I give your or any of your grand-lobsters a tour of the Muddlin’ Through?
As you can tell from my crew, we succeed by embracing the unique qualities of highly diverse individuals. We’ve never worked with a space lobster before, but we are always on the lookout for more highly-talented individuals, the more dislike our current crew the better.
-David Falkayn,
Captain, Muddlin’ Through
The first thing they need to know about the ropes, is to stay off them.
Your grandspawn sounds like theyz need a Manager. You’re in luck, I might know a guy.
The slug race highlight reel has been released.
While trekking through space, waiting for the Cosmosword to be intercepted by Nilah’s fleet…
“Thanks for fixing the printer, Dakota. Sorry the ship is a hunk of junk.”
Browf and Dakota are making coffee in the mess.
Dakota said, “Hold up. The ship is flawless, only 5 years old. You’ve just got a lot of old junk in this thing. Your translator, that printer, the non-slicing toaster, the manual closets.
“But there’s some real nice things too: the hotel-class washer and dryer, The genuine Laz-e-Boy armchairs. The well-stocked bar. And that rug really ties the common room together.”
Only slightly miffed, Browf replies “Yeah, Mom organised this whole place when she got the ship.”
“Browf, your mom has… interesting tastes in what should be on a spacecraft. But what I think is maybe your family spent so much on the ship they couldn’t afford the standard fit-out, and had to find these relics to properly equip it.
“And know that your Bridge Assist Multitasking Biomimetic Intelligence is pretty top notch too; Mrs Clamphoof didn’t skimp there.”
+ THANK YOU DAKOTA +
“You’re welcome, BAMBI.
“Browf, I wouldn’t worry. This ship is comfy and homey. I know you can’t say that for very many ships. The Cosmosword is actually very nice. My quarters remind me of home.”
Note: Running a bit behind schedule. Number crunching and real life and whatnots. Check back in 8-10 hrs for the next round. In the meantime, found this:
Something like that would never happen to me. What Time District am I in today?
Beard, yes, I know! Echoes of time past. Waiting. Wondering. Asking ourselves what we’ve gotten into.
Yes, I promise. If this lasts for greater than a solar year we’ll cut and run. In the meantime, enjoy your rum horchata.
Yes, fine a Earth standard solar year. You knew what I meant. Weirdo. Weird Beard. Ha, that rhymes! [passes out from too many rumchatas]
If that’s a real thing, I have just found a new hobby.
Beard sez he’ll have a Fireball if you’re pouring!
I don’t drink, but I do believe I’d drink that.
Line one up for me, por favor.
(added picture above)
Captain Newlireconstructed chugs down the last of his drink. He puts on his aviator glasses and heads for the door. Some last minute checks on the ship seem to be in order. It might be his last flight aboard the MDDT, but at least it will be under his direct control. He’s dismissed the crew, they won’t be needed.
'When the tides fall and the stranded choke in the sun, those beneath the waves also suffer. Do what you can. It will never be enough."
- Book of the Clutchmother (A7:G5:01)
[Lazlo slowly eases into a booth harness with a grumble. His polytonal vocalizations are as discordant as his own thoughts - although several spacers have been freed from Unizone’s webs, many more find themselves still tangled within. Resisting the urge to soapbox about the evils of taking too much on credit, he considers the political ramifications of the situation at hand with Mamma (@SteampunkBanana), Quirky (@DreamboatSkanky) and Sssir Galaxy (@Donald_Petersen).]
“Now that orders have been submitted an’ we’re all waitin’ on our respective launch windows, I gotta get a few things off my shell. So we’re shippin’ so-called ‘art’ to this so-called ‘cultural center’ on Sandfish VII. Only this time we’re workin’ with sealed crates, right? I suspect it’s not so much ‘art’ as it is ‘the state of the art’. As it were. We got some good pilots out there gatherin’ necessary intel on Mission 3. An’ we got some fine folks shippin’ hats as well. Now call it a hunch, but I reckon it’s up ta us to take up the slack and make sure Mister Nebula can take receipt of enough crates to make a difference. When it comes to weapons, it’s the use of them what counts. And art is the greatest weapon of all.”
“If ya know what I’m sayin’.”
“Now iff’n we’re lucky, the four of us will make it to Sandfish VII with cargoes intact. We’ve got reasonable odds on that. If we don’t, I’m suggestin’ that we treat this as a team operation an’ share our profits to cover any losses. I won’t say any more about the odds lest I jinx it, but I reckon we’re lookin’ a little more than okay at the moment. Quirky, I know yer gonna come up short no matter what, but we can worry about that later (…but…ahem…if ya have any more of those Mark V Personal Massage Grenades™…well…uh…I heard some good things about 'em).”
“The ol’ Didn’t See That Coming is almost a generation out of date when stacked up against modern ships and is on her last pleopods. So when we all settle up on the other side of Sandfish VII, I’ll trust yer to do the honorable thing at that time. Now I know yer all capable an’ veteran spacers. Ya have fine ships and finer crews, an’ I’m not here to call yer shots for ya. The instant may come someday when ol’ Lazlo gets atomized in a blaze of quantum retribution. If that timestamp comes, all I ask is that ya occasionally look to the Void and remember the name of Lazlo Deepwalker.”
“Until then, I want ya in formation with all of us until we ice Unizone or ya die tryin’. Tidewalker forefend.”
“In conclusion, Unizone delenda est.”
[Any spacer knows the long hours of boredom before a launch window that are invariably followed by endless moments of tension. Lazlo describes the advantages of the ‘cheliped crusher’ formation in a four-ship cargo run (as holoprojected within the Strat-O-Sphere 400)]
awesome.
Economically rational pilots.
Space lobsters are the best…
–Falkayn
Are they now?
They’re the bessst at many thingsss, like ssscuttling (both varietiesss), and plotting, and fiddling (asssk that guy Crabby!); they’re unparalleled mechanicsss, handy bottle-openersss, and the finessst folk-dancersss you’ll find in both Wild Blue Yonder and Deep Blue Sssea. They have many ssstrengthsss, and I count ssseveral of them as among my mossst trusssted friendsss and alliesss.
But when you sssay “the bessst,” that adjective demandsss a noun. When it comesss to the cold calculation and occasionally brutal logic of command, when we ssspeak of the bravery of initiative and the recklessss abandon of iconoclastic maverickism, no ssspeciesss can sssurpasss the Ssspace Lizard.
I’m jussst sssayin’. We have sssubssstantial egosss to go along with our impressssive ovipositorsss.
Community Banking Summary
Natasha @davide405 is serving as treasurer for the Community Bank. Thus all deposits and disbursments for the Bank go through Natasha.
The Bank was capitalized with b95.8 by it’s four board Members, in the following amounts.
@messana Lazlo ‘Scuttle’ Deepwalker b10.0
@davide405 Natasha Fatale pledged b50.0
David Falkayn (me) b20.8
@PromptedInk Captain Sorbet Wooster b15.0
As will be clear below, Lazlo’s contribution was actually closer to b160. Lazlo is a highly-valued member of this community.
@patrace For the accounting, here are net transfers to @davide405 Natasha that set up the Bank. These were all declared previously in the public thread.
b35.8 from Falkayn to Natasha
b10 from @messana to Natasha.
Here are the disbursements. All are debited against @davide405 account.
b1.6 to @penguinchris
b8.6 to @rkt88edmo
b16.6 to @daneel
b17.0 to @inqydesu
b17.0 to @Ratel
For total disbursement of b60.8, leaving a balance of b35.0 in the Community Bank account.
HOWEVER, everyone but penguin_chris and rkt88edmo are taking an Ella mission, so the money was sent to Ella directly in [a form Unizone can’t touch.][1]
Assuming the b40 cost for Mission 3 for these captains, these captain should only have the unifinanced portion of their mission costs deducted from their accounts. That is
-b23.4 from @daneel
-b23.0 from @inqydesu
-b23.0 from @Ratel
Hope that helps.
Statement prepared on a “best efforts” basis. All corrections and additions welcome
[1]: Badass Space Dragon 2.0 - Round 4 - Cube Farm
Lazlo, my fine arthropod, I want to reasssure you on one point. In my long yearsss sssurfing the ssspacewaysss, looking for profit and finding pennilesss adventure inssstead, making friendsss and enemiesss and bumping up againssst more alien ssspeciesss than a fleet of vaccinatorsss could keep up with, I’ve been called a lot of thingsss.
Pit viper. Asp-hole. Geecko. You big, scaly outcropping of libidinous if slightly forked virility. Hissssy-fit. Dumb-o-saur. Sir Galaga (with long As). Lisp-o-Tron. Herpes-troid. Sir Fartsalot. Claude Cloaca. Stinkclaw. Bionobutt. I, uh, could keep going.
But one thing I’ve never been called is faithless. My worssst enemy will tell you that I pay my debtsss and keep my promisssesss, which is why I make ssso few of them that don’t involve cloacal regularity (you could ssset your chronograph by it).
I have your back for the duration of the mission, and the Didn’t Sssee will sssee the benefitsss of our profitable outcome before the Denture does. I guarangoddamntee it.
As long as you’ll have me, until fickle Fate flickss uss assunder, I’m your winglizard.
Put 'er there, Chitin-Tits.
