Tales of the Admins

[Fellow Hoodlum]

The large central hall of The Lost Battlestar was bathed in the light of Omicron Delta flooding through the
heavily armoured skylight. Thirteen of the imposing high back chairs surrounding the large round table at
the far end were filled.
The fourteenth was empty.
Low murmurs of conversation slowed as the large doors slid open with a muted hiss, three soldiers dressed
in the traditional uniform of The Zoner Guard surrounded one other.
“Bring him in please sergeant.”
PRISONER DETAIL, QUICK MARCH.” Barked the sergeant at arms.
The four moved quickly across the hall in perfect formation.
“DETAIL HALT, Prisoner five paces forward march.”
“Thank you sergeant, guard at ease. Prisoner Admin Lieutenant Colonel Laowai you have been found guilty of the
following charges.”
One of the thirteen spoke quietly.
“One, that you did desert your post in what could only be described as a situation of pathetically low odds against
you.
“Two, you did lose a valuable ship, complete with all of its highly prized loadout and shielding to these pirates.
Thank God nothing fell into their hands. Have you anything to say for yourself?”
Silence fell over the hall.
Well gentlemen, possibly my laptop overheated, or could have been those kids next door, leeching on my
inte…”
“Admin Laowai we hear enough of those bloody excuses every day of our lives to write a damn book. Not
good enough I’m afraid.”
One of the chairs slid back, the occupant moved round the table, and faced the prisoner. The sound of
buttons and epaulettes being ripped from the uniform was heard, followed by a sword being removed from
its scabbard, and very unceremoniously, snapped in two.
“You are getting off lightly this time, just a demotion, a spell in Bastille, and the keys to a Starflier. Sergeant,
find the man a toothbrush, I believe the toilets are in need of a scrub. Move him out please.”
PRISONER ABOUT TURN, FIVE PACES, MARCH … DETAIL, ABOUT FACE. QUICK MARCH”
The group left the hall, the sound of the boots on the marble floor in perfect harmony. The doors slid closed
again.
“Well gentlemen, we need to put this little episode behind us, if word spreads, who knows what anarchy will
descend on Sirius.”
Someone else spoke.
“It does rather cement his reputation as the worst pilot here, not even a tin can, more like a paper bag. Lord
knows we got off lightly this time. This cannot be allowed to happen ever again.”
Nods, coupled murmurs of agreement were seen and heard …
“This file will be locked and place deep in the vaults, let’s hope we never have to get it out in our lifetime.”
More nods from grave faces.
"Right gentlemen, I believe lunch is ready, shall we move to the mess?”
Silence descended once more on the great hall …

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Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."