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Author Topic: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)  (Read 1924 times)

Offline Solclquial

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Re: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)
« Reply #15 on: October 10, 2015, 04:07:00 AM »
Rowellie Sison, Junior Security Administrator, Marcos Imperial Space and Sky Security Branch

Maayong umaga, everyone. President Jingbong sends his warmest regards from PRESEC. In light of the unfortunate loss of our neighbors' satellites, my Leader suggests a specially discounted purchase from the Camarkosan Corporate's many military-grade satellites. You have 48 hours to consider this offer.
« Last Edit: October 17, 2015, 09:04:53 AM by Solclquial »


"I do not care how brave a president is; I do not care how many medals he may wear. I do not care how well trained his guards may be. If he violates the will of the people, he shall be eliminated." - Ferdinand Marcos

Offline St Oz

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Re: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)
« Reply #16 on: October 10, 2015, 09:43:53 AM »
Somewhere in Ozipol
There was a knock on the windowless office door, a woman with scrubs and a bloody surgical mask hanging off her neck opened the door, "He's awake."

Ieter, sitting at a desk with just a flickering CRT monitor and piles of papers, tossed a folder on the climbing pile of aged paper, "Good. I couldn't stand to read any more Bureau of Security et cetera incident reports. I might as well get that intern to burn it all."

"Right well, I'm just in medical..."

Ieter stood up and interrupted her, "You're not just one thing Doctor, you became STIA, when you're STIA, you become anything we say you are."

The woman in scrubbed tilted her head down, "Right comrade."

"Show me to our new guest."

Ieter followed the woman down a confusing set of concrete floored hallways, their boots heard echoing all the way up ventilation shafts. It was a strange building to be in, under, whatever, because it was so dead quiet. The doctor pulled a badge from her scrubs, entering an 8 number code on a keypad next to a gray door, and pressing the badge against it to make the door click open. She opened the door and let Ieter walk in first.

A single light illuminated a surgical table at the center where a man was strapped down and had a bandaged throat. He managed a weak and breathless, "W-Where, am I?" in broken Ozian.

Ieter laughed, responding back to him like a grade school instructor teaching Ozian as a foreign language, "Ozipol, Sir Fletcher." She switched to Megatrine Inglish, "You were declared dead for awhile Mr. Fletcher. Unfortunately for you, Ozia's brightest trauma surgeons were on standby. Also unfortunately, you weren't dead long enough for brain damage to be a possibility. So now, the last things you'll remember Fletcher, could be me."

"W-What am I doing in Ozipol? How did I get here?" He switched back to his native language.

"I dragged you here, and how you got here Fletcher is a whole other story. As I understand it Fletcher you've never been to Ozia, how do you like your stay at Divine Ozia so far?"

He played along with sarcasm, "Swimmingly"

"Funny you should say that!" The doctor in scrubs wrapped a piece of cloth over his face and another woman in scrubs started pouring water over his mouth. After a moment of pouring they stopped and removed the clothing. Ieter continued, "This is child's play compared to what else we might do. I know this weather isn't what you usually experience in the Order. I can get out Gaea's Jacket and we can discuss things more when you catch your breath again."

His eyes dilated, skin whitened, "No, no, not that. I don't know what I did to you people. I'm sorry. I never meant to disrespect Gaea, God bless her, I mean Gaea bless her, I mean Gaea be holy." He teared up, "Anything but the jacket! Not that, never that. I'll talk, I'll talk. I never did anything to the Ozia-... People's Government, I swear! Just anything but the jacket!"

Ieter lowered her head closer to the washed out face of the man, "How will I know you'll be truthful Mr. Fletcher. You are a man who makes business in lies are you not? Do you have anything to offer? You have kids don't you? Little Barry and Ashley." She looked at her watch, "They should be in bed by now, no? Their grandmother, your mother, reading the Durlothic Tales to them, well not the real ones. You bought them the modern revised version. It doesn't even include anything about The Three Crystalisks because it's so inappropriate for children."

"H-How do you know that?"

Ieter grasped his bandaged throat, applying pressure to his new wounds, blood dribbling out of the sides from the sutures starting to tear, "I know everything about you Fletcher! Maybe next Celebration Day, I'll wear red, and I'll go visit your children. I will tell them that I'm there to take them, not give presents! Are your children naughty Fletcher? Are they? Because their father sure as hell is, and as they say in Megatrine, the apple doesn't fall far from the fucking tree. If you don't tell me what I need to know Fletcher, I'll call my monster to get your boy. All I have to say is Monster, come get the boy. Come get innocent Barry. Then will you talk? Will you talk then Fletcher? Or will I have to call monster to get the girl too? I hope you are honest with me as a drunken fool Fletcher, or I'll rob even more. More and more, until there's nobody to speak about anyone you've ever cared about ever again. Do you want me to make them disappear? Vanish without anyone knowing? You might be rich Fletcher, but you're not that rich. So do you understand the fucking cost of dishonesty now Fletcher? Are we crystal fucking clear?"

Just as the blood from his broken sutures dripped from the bandage and onto her hands so did from his eyes, it was uncontrollable. "Y-yes."

"Yes what? Who are you speaking to? I'll give you a hint, it starts with the color of your blood on my hand"

"Y-yes, Red Robber."

Ieter's tone shifted back to her soft voice, "Fletcher, what were you doing accessing that Megatrine satellite? You've made us cause a lot of trouble forcing it onto a crash course. But take your time, because I have all day. Don't think that I won't know if you're lying either, because I'm just dotting i's and crossing t's."

« Last Edit: October 10, 2015, 09:54:06 AM by St Oz »

Offline Lindisfarne

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Re: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)
« Reply #17 on: October 11, 2015, 09:34:35 PM »
Irahn Rikku, Assistant Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Chancellery of Lindisfarne, Free State of Lindisfarne

Greetings all,

"Sorry for connecting so late, but I had to make sure I was fully informed before engaging in this confrence.

To adress the issue, I have checked with our space agency and our intelligence community and we have drawn a blank. Naturally the Free State of Lindisfarne would never engage in anything like this, but it seems like no other group or organization in Lindisfarne have had anything to do with it. Needless to say we have increased aur vigilance in regards to our own sattelite systems, both military, communication and commercial. If we find anything relevant, we will undertake to immediately inform the Magatridimensional Order."
(orders papers on desk, sipping from a glass of water and awaiting next communication)
.

Offline bigbaldben

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Re: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)
« Reply #18 on: October 18, 2015, 11:54:37 AM »
Tabula Rasa Center for Space Acquisition, Operations Division

Grigson Traller, head of space division, was having his greatest day ever.  Most of his subordinates were on vacation or otherwise occupied, there were no pressing issues, and he had been playing video games in his office most of the day.

The great day ended when the caller id showed the Ambassador called.  Traller couldn't imagine what they wanted with him, but knew he'd better pick up and find out.

"Please hold for Ambassador Vitmueller."

Oh dammit, he was going to be talking to the Ambassador himself.  Though it was only voice, Traller sat up straight and dusted the donut crumbs off of his tie.

"This is Ambassador Vitmueller.  Am I speaking with Mr. Traller?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm calling to inquire about our missing satellite." 

Dear sweet Petrus, thought Traller. I knew there was something I should be doing.

"Uh, yes sir, what about it?"

"Well, first, what do you know and second, where is your team currently on the investigation?"

"Ah, well, I don't think there's much I can add to the initial report.  Satellite 5150 was last in contact at 1400 10 Aquaire AR2.  It disappeared between 1400 and uh 1530, when it was out of view of our other Satellites."  Traller paused, not sure where to go with this.

Vitmueller's tone did not seem sympathetic.  "And?  What have you found in the last 24 hours."

"Oh, well, we, uh are pursuing a number of leads, though.. we are understaffed and under budget for this sort of investigation."  Traller thought he was pretty slick with that answer.  "I'm sure you understand, what with the recent budget..."

"So you have found out nothing," said Vitmueller.

"Well, no, not yet... we were under the impression that MinPsych had the lead on this..."

"So you have done nothing," said Vitmueller.

"Uh, as I said we are pursuing a number of..."  His eyes caught the phone display, which said "disconnected."  "Hello?" he said to confirm.  Vitmueller was gone.  He hung up the phone and sighed - there would be consequences to this, and not pleasant ones.  He put his feet up on the desk, picked up the control and went back to his video game.

----------------------------

Ministry of Psychology, Intelligence Division

"We believe the Ozians have Fletcher."

"So? Fletcher is dead."

"That seemed to be the case, but we believe that is no longer true."

"I saw the footage.  His spacesuit was compromised and he was motionless.  He was space debris."

"And the Ozians picked him up.  One of those - whatever they call their space ships - picked him up."

"How do you know it was them?"

"Marked ship.  Don't forget, we were supposed to be blacked out to that area visually.  They had no reason to believe we could see them.  Except for the AI Cam Fletcher took with him, we would have been.  Fortuitous that we had the right angle."

"So the Ozians crashed our satellite?"

"Not necessarily.  We only know they picked up Fletcher.  They could have been investigating, you know, the fucking satellite falling out of the sky."

"True.  They've made no contact regarding Fletcher?"

"No."

"Do you think they could have revived him?"

"Yes.  We will know more when we hear from the Insider."

"He's trusted enough to know?  This would be top, top secret if true and they aren't contacting us."

"Yes.  He is firmly embedded in their organization."

"Ok, so we wait to hear from him?"

"Can't.  Fletcher knows him."

"Oh good goddamn!  What are the odds?"

"Fletcher can expose the program and our most valuable spy."

"How much time do we have?  Can the Ozians make him talk?"

"These are the Ozians - face to the world notwithstanding- they know how to make people talk, and Fletcher, trained as he is, will be no exception.  The only question is what will he say when he does?

-------------

Tabula Rasa Center for Space Acquisition, Operations Division

"Jang, check this out."

Jang's eyes darted over the page.  "Jingbong ...Leader suggests ... discounted... Camarkosan Corporate's many military-grade satellites.. 48 hours?!?  Is this a fucking ransom note?"

Prezia laughed.  "I thought the same thing."

"Why would we buy a satellite when we don't even know what happened to the one we lost?  We're going to buy one, launch it and lose it also?"

"Well," said Prezia, pushing up her black-rimmed glasses,"MinPsych has other plans."

"MinPsych??"

"Yeah, I have an order here to make the buy."

"What?  Why?!  Marcos is only going to rip us off, and with inferior tech to boot."

"I don't know, Jang," Prezia shrugged.  "I never know."

"Ok," said Jang.  Give me the p.o. and I'll make the call."

Offline Solclquial

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Re: [MicroRP] Satellite Shenanigans (2015)
« Reply #19 on: October 25, 2015, 03:56:05 PM »
Col. Ignacio Telo
Marcos Imperial Space and Sky Security Branch, Main Campus

"Did Camarcorp receive a reply from the Order?" Telo inquired to the younger officer in Foreign Communications.

"Colonel, we have them on Channel 1. Should I wire them to your station?"The assistant noted, her head peeking out from the booth.

"No, that's not necessary. Give them the product details and the agreement documents through the wire and have a liaison ready to attend to them. The bureaucratic process must be swift as usual. Don't make them wait."  Telo ordered, opening his drawer. The video feeds around the assistant's main computer showed a variety of views from around what seemed to be burning wreckage in a farmland area. He sifted through the documents.

"What happens when they need to have the satellite shipped? Will we be overseeing logistics? Do you need an HK around to oversee the trade-off?" Local villagers are gathered outside a secure perimeter. The Megatrine insignia can be made out from a broken-off dish and plating fragments.

"No. Have standard security detail present aboard the Romrov craft. I'm confident this deal will go as planned." Telo stopped sifting, finding his file. He pulls it out. The scenes on the monitors show the wreckage in new angles. There is a badly disfigured corpse visible beneath it, its legs poking out. He opens the document folder. "CAMARCORP PROCEDURES TO INITIATE HOSTILE FINANCIAL PRESSURE - IPO CERTIFIED".

"Sir, I don't trust the Order when they're pissed." The assistant says, concerned.

"Don't trust the Order, full stop, Sedna. Now, we're going to deliver their satellite, no strings attached." Telo retorted, more amused than irritated.

The video feed angles switch again, this time at a much closer distance. Robotic arms are seen placing dead bodies under the wreckage, putting broken satellite rubble on top of them. Camera crews are clearly seen in the background. At far left, a man is being beaten by unknown figures. Later, said man dies and is placed among the bodies.

"We're going to let the Order see what their missing satellite did here in the heart of the Philippines."


"I do not care how brave a president is; I do not care how many medals he may wear. I do not care how well trained his guards may be. If he violates the will of the people, he shall be eliminated." - Ferdinand Marcos