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 Post subject: Neokorps
PostPosted: 30 Mar 2009, 13:51 
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Joined: 27 Jan 2008, 01:00
Posts: 10164
Location: Lexington, Zettler, Germania
Medals: 20
Most Valuable Mercer (1) Author (5) Best RPer (4) Absentee (1) Reviewer Extraordinaire (1)
Most Creative (1) Brainiac (1) 2008 Mercury Art Contest (1) Zombie Apocalypse (1) Best Digital Artist (2)
Best Scenario Creator (1) Roy Mustang Award (1)
Has thanked: 83 times
Been thanked: 70 times
Episode 1 - A Beginning
[i]“Coming together is the beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.â€



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 Post subject: Neokorps
PostPosted: 13 Apr 2009, 20:34 
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Joined: 27 Jan 2008, 01:00
Posts: 10164
Location: Lexington, Zettler, Germania
Medals: 20
Most Valuable Mercer (1) Author (5) Best RPer (4) Absentee (1) Reviewer Extraordinaire (1)
Most Creative (1) Brainiac (1) 2008 Mercury Art Contest (1) Zombie Apocalypse (1) Best Digital Artist (2)
Best Scenario Creator (1) Roy Mustang Award (1)
Has thanked: 83 times
Been thanked: 70 times
Episode 2 – Genuine Imitations
[i]“It had been insignificant in its infancy, nothing more than another construct of stone and gas and liquid, weighing on me and enslaving me.â€



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 Post subject: Neokorps
PostPosted: 02 May 2009, 23:09 
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Joined: 27 Jan 2008, 01:00
Posts: 10164
Location: Lexington, Zettler, Germania
Medals: 20
Most Valuable Mercer (1) Author (5) Best RPer (4) Absentee (1) Reviewer Extraordinaire (1)
Most Creative (1) Brainiac (1) 2008 Mercury Art Contest (1) Zombie Apocalypse (1) Best Digital Artist (2)
Best Scenario Creator (1) Roy Mustang Award (1)
Has thanked: 83 times
Been thanked: 70 times
Episode 3 – Organized Chaos
[i]“You wake up in the morning with the moons rising and decide to go for a swim. By the time you reach the sand dunes though, you realize you’ve forgotten your left foot, and so decide to screw the whole thing. Imes.â€



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 Post subject: Neokorps
PostPosted: 30 Jan 2010, 14:42 
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Administrator

Joined: 27 Jan 2008, 01:00
Posts: 10164
Location: Lexington, Zettler, Germania
Medals: 20
Most Valuable Mercer (1) Author (5) Best RPer (4) Absentee (1) Reviewer Extraordinaire (1)
Most Creative (1) Brainiac (1) 2008 Mercury Art Contest (1) Zombie Apocalypse (1) Best Digital Artist (2)
Best Scenario Creator (1) Roy Mustang Award (1)
Has thanked: 83 times
Been thanked: 70 times
Episode 4 - Life is a Conspiracy
"When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?" ~Chuck Palaniuk; Terran author and social commentator

"Seriously, I'm just saying that a conspiracy is the only way to explain it. It shouldn't really surprise us, there are enough dickwads involved."

Captain Dawson looked up from his desk, "'Dickwads'?"

Major-General Atticus Reginald Galfridus, leaning against the desk with little regard for proper conduct within the ranks, responded with the soft, mellow, not quite monotone voice so typical of him. "Yeah. I mean who else would bother hiding the fact?" Dawson looked unconvinced, so Atticus continued with a sharp gesture of his hands, "Look, two species so identical they can crossbreed, and when suddenly an inconsequential colonial fleet is tossed across the galaxy by an oh-my-god-space-hole-thing away from Terra, it ends up almost right on the planet with all the almost-Terrans. We're the same frikkin' species!"

"How? I don't think Neanderthals had spacecraft."

"I'm working on it. Maybe the Cro-Magnons. Unless the ancestor species started on Takari and made their way to Terra."

The two were interrupted in their chat by a message from Captain Dawson's aide outside, an RX with the rank of Lieutenant-Commander. "Captain Dawson."

Dawson responded quickly, the audio-visual receptor detecting his voice and relaying them automatically. "Yes Rachel?"

Atticus took another look around the office as his friend did so. It was a comfortable enough but humble office—in theory. In actuality the room was determinedly high-tech looking, with its transparent aluminium window all along the farthest back wall, unfinished ceiling exposing all sorts of cables and ribbons, holographic nameplate atop the desk, and the dull brushed metal floor tiles. There had even been what looked like a bird foetus floating in a liquid Atticus hadn't the slightest clue about sitting on the black shelf along the right wall of the rectangular room until Donovan had removed it. Atticus agreed, that thing had just been plain creepy, whether you were head of homespace cloning operations or not. The rest of the office, which was longer than it was wide, was rather Spartan. Atticus understood this was most likely because Donovan had only moved in two days ago.

"The latest unmechanised cloning fahcilities quotuh reports ah' comin' up short fuh this past month. Totals or logs ahn't published fuh the crew unduh Lieutenant Norris Connuhs."

"Alright, thank you. I'll take care of it." The message ended, and Atticus's usual look of a deceptively "clueless" smirk resumed.

"I guess I better stop bothering you then."

Dawson shrugged as he called up the officer in question at his desk terminal. "It's fine, just not sure how I want to handle this."

"Give his ass a reprimand."

"Right..."

"Seriously. Whatever you do, don't wait very long to do it. You got promoted remember? Hesitating's not a really good thing to start doing now that you're a real leader."

"Gee, thanks."

"Just saying."

Donovan closed a window on his terminal with a touch to the screen, and locked the workstation, standing. "Priorities first. When's your lunch?"

Atticus pretended to look around until he saw the rank on his collar with mock surprise. "Right now if I want."

Donovan laughed and moved his rolling chair to the side to join Atticus to leave, the door whooshing open as they approached it.

"But really, saying Takarans and Terrans aren't the same species is like saying all the Mydeans aren't the same faith—they don't actually know it, or if they do they don't want to be, but they are."

*****

The Officer's Mess wasn't particularly crowded—it was still early to be eating lunch, only 1100. Besides, most people actually had a schedule they had to follow. Dawson and Atticus were just that lucky. At least, that's what Atticus was thinking as the two entered. He wasn't one to shirk his duties—far from it—but it was nice to have a perk here and there. The average heighted Major-General with the middle-tone brown hair (All things considered, Atticus would never describe himself as anything other than "delightfully average". Yay.) subtly motioned to the tray of a passing Captain.

"Ok, there's one thing I don't understand."

Dawson looked forwards to the short line at the serving area, "One thing?"

"Yeah. How come we've got at least 50 planets supplying any kind of food to us at any one time, but we're being offered the same thing for the third day in a row? Third day in a row..."

Dawson looked at Atticus for a moment before the two started towards the serving area. "Well at least the dinner hour'll be different. Any beef stew from yesterday is being sent to the clone mess hall tonight."

"Yay. Now they can enjoy having the same thing two days in a row."

"They were served chicken yesterday."

"Whatever. Why are you looking through their menu anyways?"

"Well it all goes over my desk at some point."

"Yeah..." Various officers were holding their trays out for offered foods as the duo came to right adn claimed their own trays to follow suit. Luckily, if one thing could be said for a homespace mess hall, despite its monotony and dullness, the food really didn't taste so bad. A fact both were infinitely grateful as their augments relayed to the end of line transceiver whose account to deduct the modest fee from. The pair then made their way to the end of a long table which was the last before the wall-sized windows overlooking the rest of the floating fortress and the turbulent winds of a storm on the Jovian moon Titan beyond. Dawson was still a bit distracted by the day's activities, so Atticus continued taking the initiative for conversation. And unusual swap of roles.

"So I guess life'll get even better for the clones now, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's homespace, clones don't have it better anywhere else, and that's when the old boss was still here. No offense, you're a softie."

Dawson chuckled before taking a spoonful of soup. "Yeah I know. But everything's good right now. I don't want to mess anything up yet unless I have to."

"How're you going to handle that one CY then?"

"Which one? There are millions you know."

"That one that was pulled from duty. I've only heard a little bit about it. People said 'him acts funnie'."

Dawson uncomfortably thought of the first priority message he'd received at his new desk. CY-190-101402. "Yeah, Admiral Sung left me with some materials about that. It's top of my list, but at the moment I really don't have much information. It was out of my jurisdiction before the promotion."

"Your promotion's not really exciting, ya know?"



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