Aboard the Hood, in a corner of the Bar, at a table facing the racing track, Gullveig notices a short range transmission while checking Neural-Net on his Pad using the Bar's Public Access Point. Reading half-way though the message, he chuckles and skips the message, telling himself "Pfff... und anozer group ov scums who think zey own ze place."
Aye, but I already ad me own tax system, but when I saw this, I thought it were a step foard fer mollys an brets, an it meant them squaddies couldn shoot us when we collect.
But that flt cmdr sayin it aint legal, so if it aint, guess, ill just stick to me old method aye? Or what should ah do?
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Tyler Skye leans over and scratches his arm as he looks at the message he just received on an open channel.
"Hey, Carl, keep an eye on the loading"
"Yus Boss"
Tyler leaves the mooring area of Graves and heads back to the airlock to the Arundell, where he climcs aboard and settles into his chair, the captains chair. He looks at his portable neural net interface again, studying the message. Once he decipher's the poor English, he begins to type out a short response.
Seeing as you'r talking on an open channel, I'll take this opportunity to ask: What of transports? You still planning to charge us EVERY time you meet us? You should know that most of us don't own our flipping ships... I mean, Christ, I get 50K a year salary from Bowex, and they're getting grumpy with my always paying pirates out of their funds, just to keep the ship safe.
Comm ID: Nick O'Flannigan Subject: Clearin' up some tings' Location: Arrenmore Base
Alright, time teh' clear up the questions ye' all bin' askin'...
First o' all, HONE! Ye' uppity fecker! I been gettin' complaints ye' been goin' round strait up piratin' feckers! Feckin' stop it or ye'll be havin' a nasty run in wit' the Separatists!
Theres a reason we kill them feckin' pirates!
As feh' the legality of this wee system... Well les' jus' say that the squaddies ain't happy about it. But as I said in me' first transmission, they can shove it it their feckin' arses feh' all I care!
We're in a treaty wit' em' teh' keep these feckin' pirates an' Sair' baby eaters at bay an' we're stickin' teh' it, but in the meantime they gone an' taken away the best source o' income we had which was liberatin' our gold from BMM minin' ships an' idiot gold theives. Since the Molly whiskey industry alone ain't enough teh' keep our ships flyin' (an' the embargo they still got on us exportin' it don't help wit' the matter) we came up wit' this wee system teh' make up our costs an' keep the minin' community happy at the same time. BMM o' all feckin' people have been overjoyed teh' hear about this licence system an' I tink' its time the squaddies accepted it too.
Not tha' they feckin' have teh'. We'll still collect on the licences. We ain't goin' round spacin' the Miners anymore, the miners get our protection at a fraction o' the price them feckin' pirates charge jus' teh' not blow em' up an' the BAF get teh' put more o' their time inteh' fightin' the baby eaters.
Its a win for everone except the feckin' scum o' Dublin!
As feh' a permanent licence... Well I still ain't talked teh' Andy bout' tha' yet if I'm honest. Tings' have been busy on Arrenmore wha' wit' the damage tha' idiot squaddie battleship captain did...
An' teh' any o' ye' who tink' hirin' a merc will save ye' buyin' a licence keep this in mind. Ye' do it' an' ye' no longer eligble teh' buy a minin' licence an' we'll put ye' on a wee list o' people we don't like.
Tink' bout' tha'... Whats cheaper? Payin' the reasonable price feh' ye' minin' licence like a good boyo or hirin' a merc who won't be able teh' do feck all teh' save ye' if we decide we don't want ye' minin' no more...
We ain't got no problem wit' ye' hirin' mercs teh' protect ye' from pirates or Sairs', feck, tha' even saves us trouble an' I'd probably give ye' a discount price since ye' brought ye' own protection, but if ye' try an' use a merc teh' skip out on payin' feh' ye' licence then ye' a feckin' dead man...
Nick O'Flannigan out.
---End Transmission---
Quote:Dublin Miner: I am Gallic admiral earning money in Bretonia.
First, ye cn throw ye "informant" into the sun, he's lyin to ye.
You want information on what I'm doin, ye come an ask me to me face.
As fer;
" ye'll be havin' a nasty run in wit' the Separatists!"
Get yer ships into space, start payin the bounties, and report in the message dump, an I'll believe yez still exist, I seen ONE sep ship in dub in the last month, an ee docked soon as I came near im an tried to chat to im.
Now, ye gonna answer my questions, or no?
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