 |
|
Comrade Tassadar
|
|
They have done it.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Googlie
|
 |
Commanding Officer, CRYPTEIA
Apr 1999
time: 21:28
|
|
The saloon door creaked, and swung open, ushering in a blast of cool nighttime air. A pungent whiff of kelp with overtones of sealurk wafted in on the evening breeze. The Stranger stood in the doorway for a moment, his large silhouette blocking the flickering light from the outside porch lantern. He was huge.
Conversation in the bar ceased as all eyes looked towards the door.
The Stranger shuffled in, glancing around the bar as he entered, at the myriad of eyes regarding him appraisingly. His rough jacket collar was turned up around his ears and a woollen oilskin toque was pulled low over his forehead, leaving a small gap from whence his piercing gaze swept the room.
Seasoned pirates cowered when that gaze flickered over them, averting their eyes as they saw those of the Stranger. And those eyes. A piercing blue, as deep and icy as the glacier fed lake abutting Mount Planet. An earnestness in that gaze, buttressed by a palpable zeal as the Stranger took in all that he saw marked him as one who led and expected to be obeyed.
He moved to the bar, and the barkeep, with downcast eyes, inquired as to his needs.
“Will you be having a wee something, Sir?” he queried. “We have a fine shipment of xenorum just arrived.”
The Stranger leaned forward, and holding his hand under the barkeep’s chin, forced eye-to-eye contact. The barkeep squirmed in his grip, but was drawn hypnotically to those eyes, his face showing the strain he was under.
The Stranger spoke in a quiet voice:
“I’m looking for the Cuspidore Brownbeard”
The barkeep flinched. He nodded, mute, to a corner where a raised dais held The Captains’ Table, and finally found his voice:
“Up there,” he squeaked. “With Cap’ns Flubber and Hercules. They’re in a strategy discussion about them Cyborgs and won’t like being disturbed.”
The Stranger grunted a ‘thank you’ and released his hold, and the barkeep sagged against the counter and watched – as did every eye – as the Stranger ambled over to the Captains’ Table.
The Captains looked up as the Stranger approached, back to the light so that his features were hidden. But his gaze found them and locked on to the Cuspidore’s.
He reached into the folds of his jacket and pulled out a parchment and dropped it on the table, nodded to the Cuspidore, then turned and marched across the saloon and out of the swing doors into the night.
The Captains looked at each other and shrugged.
The wind brought in by the swinging saloon door had ruffled the parchment open, and it lay on the table. Their eyes were drawn to it as metal filings to a magnet. Finally the Cuspidore reached out and smoothed the parchment, pulling a lamp closer so that they could decipher it.
There was but one phrase ……………….
You could always trade them Doctrine: Initiative
And the signature simply said ............ Googlie
Last edited by Googlie on 16-10-2003 at 10:06
|
|
| |
All times are GMT. The time now is 05:28.
Apolyton Time is 00:28. |
top of page
|
| archivepost |
|
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
Smilies are ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|
14-10-2003 15:02
...we didnt know and though it was a gift to speed up another tech to give to them)
|