*A light binks, and Achille is revealed reclining on a lounge chair, taking petit mouthfuls of what looks suspiciously like blueberry jelly, but might easily be something else*.
"To be impeccably honest my dear Michael, I've been liberally laughing my arse off since the beginning of this whole affair. I would adore to go into specifics with you over a copious glass of the finest De France, but I'm sure you happen to be slightly preoccupied, what with the pest fumigation and all."
*Turns to face the camera*.
"Being brief my dear sir, I happen to be a Zoner - a rather good one - with a certain fascination for the... forbidden fruits of the Omicron regions. Of course, as a scientist that often means I am forced to drag enormous quantities of what is colloquially known as 'science stuff', to all forms of forbidding, godforsaken corners, let's say, the allegedly inhospitable 'nomad worlds'. Now I happen to be rather... drawn in by the contents of the aforementioned locale, and I'd..." *coughs*
"Excuse me mousier..."
*takes another spoon of "jelly"*
"Ahem, anyway, although I happen to find a good cull rather amusing, I'd be happy to watch you dispatch those chickens into the afterlife from a copious distance, I.E., not in my immediate vicinity as the CW|Concurrence is somehow... mistaken for an errant Alliance supply turkey. I prefer my state of being... undesintegrated, shall we call it".
*takes yet another spoon*
"Whilst I accept some amusing collateral will occur, you'd make me a very happy man Michael if you and your merry merry men kept well clear from anything with a CW| (that's Commonwealth for those of you who happen to live in a hole without food, running water, language or the neuralnet) tag. In fact, more than kept away, avoided completely. The crux of the matter is that the Commonwealth will, or may, or quite possibly never, run supplies, ahem, research materials, through the Omicron 74 system. I'd rather look at the light show of juggernaughts being torn to infintesimal fragments by bloodthirsty robots, from a moderate distance".
"As for the Alliance? Well, I'd consider them serious entrants for the Darwin Awards. Survival of the fittest and all that." *Yawns* "...Well, at least this ratifies the evolutionary maxim."
"But I digress. Commonwealth, you, no, shoot. Can't render it with any greater clarity than that Mr Gollanski".
"As soon as you greenlight the NFZ exemption, I'll dash up there and run a few tapes. There's some rather amusing experiments of human idiocy to be derived from this encounter and the potential wealth of psychological data is astounding. Oh and there's always the fact I'll get to see moron's heads explode into the ether, there's always that too..."
"Until next time. Oh, and keep me posted if anything too upoarious occurs in transit, oui?"
"Right now, I've got somesamplesto gather".
*grins insanely*
---logs closed---
****Transmission out****
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
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