NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC: T3H AUCTION IS OVAR!!111 Only read this thread if you're interested in the RP at the very end, which starts in earnest on page 3. It discusses what's going on with the doomsday device that we sold away, and we aren't even in it much at all. That said, Resi out.))

Never in a million years would the old Resi Corporation attempt to do something so foolish, so insensitive, so completely ignorant as consorting with terrorists.

Actually, it only took about 100 years.

At any rate, after a period of technological stagnation in the Resi Corporation that could be completely and without any shame be blamed on the works of Marx, the recovering congolmerate needed cash in the worst way ever. CEO Johnathan Tetragammaton was not the man of limited morals that his predecessor two people ago CEO Jai Resi was. No, he was more like Jai's father and CEO before him, CEO Unum Resi, but without the insanity problem. The almighty dollar ruled Johnathan's mind, and this next action was its clearest manifestation.

Those in power in the Resi Corporation knew some people who knew some people who slept with some people who knew some people in very high positions in very different walks of life. Indeed, the Resi Corporation was very distantly connected to some very powerful terrorist organizations, and it was through these drawn out connections that messages were sent out, telling of an ultimate weapon up for auction, a date, and listing a set of coordinates in the middle of a desert oasis in a moderately civilized but very dusty bazaar.

The instructions told that there would be a man shouting in standard dialect about selling pancakes out of a purple tent. There would be a chalkboard behind him, and the auctioneers would list their price and an alais on the board. The man "selling pancakes" would oversee this to make sure no cheating was proformed, and would be re-enforced should any dirty-er dealing occur. After the instructions was a list of what this weapon was, exactly.

This weapon is a crate marked "pancakes" that contains fifty (50) baseball-sized bombs with no metal parts, each with a remote detonator. These bombs contain a nanodisease the likes of which the world has never seen. The nanomachines within this disease spread rapidly through the air, and take the guise of lymph cells. They enter the body through contact with skin, food, water, or air and move through the subject's lymphic system to all ends of their bodies. Their objective is to replicate themselves by tearing apart nerve cells and using their components to build new nanomachines. This either leaves the subject braindead, actually dead, or in a best-case scenario in an unbreakable coma within two hours of infection. One tiny bomb can blanket a large city area (taking one to two days to kill all who haven't been evactuated), and they do not set off metal detectors.

And so, as planned there was a man with dark features yelling to all the world about the glorious pancakes he was selling out of his tent. Behind him was a chalkboard, just waiting to get its first prices writtin upon it.

((OOC (please read) : To ensure that you are a legitimate terrorist organization, I want you to OOCly put down your motives for terror and who you are targeting with your post. This will not effect sales aside from the fact that if these are absent from your bid, we will not consider your bid valid.))

((OOC: Also, there is no paper trail between this and the Resi Corporation. Any and all methods to link us to this will be disavowed and ignored, unless they are EXTREMELY well thought out.))

A modest lil' BUMP...

We wish to destroy what our ancestors wished to destroy: Secularism and perhaps the human race.

May we do bussiness with you?

May we do bussiness with you?
((OOC: A Deus Ex/Angels and Demons sort of thing, eh? Alright. Just put down a starting price))

Elaborate on the merchandise

Elaborate on the merchandise
What do you want to know? I already elaborated a bunch on it in the middle of the first post.

((OOC: Second page? For shame! BUMP))

OOC: Welcome back Resi!!!!

OOC: Welcome back Resi!!!!
((OOC: Thanks again, and thanks for the courtesy bump. :D ))

Garan was not a happy man, oh no, he had watched his family executed before his very eyes. They didn't care who he was or how much money he had (a signifigant amount of the latter.) No, they held a rampant disregard for human life that was only matched by Garan's newly kindled hatred for their kind.

When certain 'associates' of his informed him of a 'sale' of 'pancakes,' he knew that his oppertunity for vengeance had come. Extracting money from a dozen or more swiss accounts, Garan made his way to the Bazaar to place his bid(s).

Twelve million US dollars was his opening bid, surely not much to the immense Resi Consortium, but it would be enough to start the ball rolling. Hopefully the price would balloon upwards where the common rabble could no longer afford to stay in the running.

The heat was sweltering, especially in his dusty kahaki pants and shirt. He did not dare wear his customary business suit and tie for drawing attention to oneself at such a...transaction as this would be folley. He was aware of his violation of numerous international sentient rights laws, and what various national security forces would do to everyone nearby if they caught wind of what was being sold here but he no longer cared. Hatred drove him, he had nothing to lose except flickering, useless wealth. Wealth that he no longer cared about.

A small autopistol stirred in his deep pockets, ready to be unleashed at a moment's should the bidding be...rudely interrupted. The police wouldn't take Garan Marak without a fight!

OOC: He's rich, crazy, and if wins, he intends to use the bioweapons to kill as many Vaaish (an NPC alien race that killed his family, and a whole nationfull of other CF citizens) as he possibly could. And if there's any left over, he'll use it on any Elves that survived the above mentioned massacre. The reasons for the latter I hope to get into in the later stages of bidding.

Garan was not a happy man, oh no, he had watched his family executed before his very eyes. They didn't care who he was or how much money he had (a signifigant amount of the latter.) No, they held a rampant disregard for human life that was only matched by Garan's newly kindled hatred for their kind.

When certain 'associates' of his informed him of a 'sale' of 'pancakes,' he knew that his oppertunity for vengeance had come. Extracting money from a dozen or more swiss accounts, Garan made his way to the Bazaar to place his bid(s).

Twelve million US dollars was his opening bid, surely not much to the immense Resi Consortium, but it would be enough to start the ball rolling. Hopefully the price would balloon upwards where the common rabble could no longer afford to stay in the running.

The heat was sweltering, especially in his dusty kahaki pants and shirt. He did not dare wear his customary business suit and tie for drawing attention to oneself at such a...transaction as this would be folley. He was aware of his violation of numerous international sentient rights laws, and what various national security forces would do to everyone nearby if they caught wind of what was being sold here but he no longer cared. Hatred drove him, he had nothing to lose except flickering, useless wealth. Wealth that he no longer cared about.

A small autopistol stirred in his deep pockets, ready to be unleashed at a moment's should the bidding be...rudely interrupted. The police wouldn't take Garan Marak without a fight!

OOC: He's rich, crazy, and if wins, he intends to use the bioweapons to kill as many Vaaish (an NPC alien race that killed his family, and a whole nationfull of other CF citizens) as he possibly could. And if there's any left over, he'll use it on any Elves that survived the above mentioned massacre. The reasons for the latter I hope to get into in the later stages of bidding.
((OOC: *thwaps j00* I said no links to Resi, dammit! :p
Certain countries could probably figure it out if they got a close enough look at the bombs, but we'd still come up with a story about them being stolen.))
IC:

The man at the stall took a quick glance at the chalkboard in the back of his tent, and paused from yelling about pancakes long enough to offer a small wink at Marak before going back to ranting about the delicious blueberries he was offering in his products.

In reality, the man knew nothing of the corporation, of even what he was selling. He only knew he was getting two grand for trying to sell pancakes all day, plus what little products he would actually make off of pancake sales. He was told to give a sign of recognition to anyone who wrote anything on the board, and to NOT look in the crate marked "pancakes" in the back, or any of the three crates that accompanied it. For two grand, he could stifle his curiousity for long enough.

OOC: Sorry. :p Must've slipped my mind. You can just disregard that IC mention. :)

IC: Garan smilied to himself and began whistling an old tune he picked up from somewhere as he slowly walked away, looking for a place to sit where he could still keep watch on the proceedings.

Taking a swig of water from his canteen, he settled down near a small fountain within easy walking distance and with a decent view of the board and the odd man selling the 'pancakes.'

Time seemed to fly by as he waited for someone to top his admittedly pitiful bid...

A nice mid-afternoon BUMP.

*Checking hardware*
*Check Complete*
*Spider_bot now activated
Welcome User: 64582447X3*
*Enter request:/*
*/Search for speech patterns containing select words*
*Enter words*
*/////./////"Pancakes"////.////*
*Searching...*
*Searching...*
*Search-SUBJECT FOUND*
*/Identify subject*
*Subject:
Human male
Age 27
Corrarated arterys
Brain tumor in Left Hemisphere, undetected
Natural life span as of now: 3 years*
*Enter Command*
*/Start bid at 4 million in native currency*
*Command recieved. Remain hidden?*
*/Yes*
*Command recieved and carried out*

*Checking hardware*
*Check Complete*
*Spider_bot now activated
Welcome User: 64582447X3*
*Enter request:/*
*/Search for speech patterns containing select words*
*Enter words*
*/////./////"Pancakes"////.////*
*Searching...*
*Searching...*
*Search-SUBJECT FOUND*
*/Identify subject*
*Subject:
Human male
Age 27
Corrarated arterys
Brain tumor in Left Hemisphere, undetected
Natural life span as of now: 3 years*
*Enter Command*
*/Start bid at 4 million in native currency*
*Command recieved. Remain hidden?*
*/Yes*
*Command recieved and carried out*
((OOC: All good and true, but someone else already started the bidding at $12 million))

*Request denied*
*/Reason?*
*Unknown
Suggestion: Bid 20 million*
*/Bid 20 million of local currency*
*Bid entered*

OOC: Hmm, Well the Hubris Socialsit Party has started to take a more 'active' attempt at destroying the United Duchies and the Royal Family. Of course they still have deep pockets...especially considering that they knew where all the corruption money went.

IC: The man looked old, dressed in the local garb, he limped along the bazzar and finally came to the stall selling pancakes. He ordered a pancake and wandered over to the chalk board and scratched out "40 million USD" in chalk. He took his pancake and hobbled over to a shady corner to eat and wait.

*User has been out bid.
Enter new bid?*
*/Yes*
*Enter bid amount*
*/60 million local currency*
*Bid entered*

BUMP

Wish all that clutter wouldn't be left behind after I delete dead bumps.

Garan smilied when he noticed forty million appear on the board. It meant that some of the lesser terrorist organizations are getting close to their limit.

Walking swiftly, he walked up to the board and wrote "eighty million USD -Garan" before walking back to his seat by the fountain.

Unfortunately, when he got there, He found that a pidgeon had already defacated upon it. Damn pidgeons. So he elected to stand.

The old man chuckled at Garan's little problem as he rose. And hobbled back over to the blackboard.

"eight five million, Taurus"
-he scratched out with the board and tottered back out. He hobbled past Garan and commented, "We'll be at this all day...pancakes make me thirsty...I'm going to get a drink."
He continued his hobbling over to a water merchant and sat down on one of the tressle tables in the shade and waited.

Garan smiled enigmatically, the old man, this 'Taurus' would prove to be a most interesting adversary.

Walking nonchalantly up to the chalkboard, Garan wrote "Ninety million USD -Garan."

That task done, he flopped down under the shade of a palm tree and watched the bidding. But while his eyes watched the proceedings, his mind wandered, back to that fateful day...

Bombs were falling thick as rain, spreading death and destruction wherever they hit. Garan pulled his wife and six year old daughter by their hands, trying to get them into a shelter, any shelter. His own bomb bunker, built for just this ocasion, was hit directly by one of the falling anti-matter warheads, a one in a million occurance. It also meant that his survival plan for family and friends fell apart.

They ran on, searching for any place to hide. The government had been paranoid, establishing guarded bunkers throughout the countryside. Unfortunately, the people had been complacent and were now reaping the fruits of their apathy. Most died that day, but that is not relevant to Garan's personal story, only beginning to unfold...

((OOC: BUMP!

Also, I realized I forgot to set an end time for this auction. FYI, it ends at 9:00 PM Monday, Pacific time.))

Bump

Darel Strag a noted member of the Cana terrorist orginisation, who's only goal is the return of rural life in Theao, and also secretly a member of Theao's intelligence forces(terrorist devision) was commisioned to purchase the "pancakes" and ensure they get misdelivired.

As Darel arrived he took notice of the fellow competitors and examined the board. "90 million, nice amount" he said softly as he strode up and calmly wrote out 120 million. Then called out to the vendor that he would like a short stack with extra sauce.

Darel Strag a noted member of the Cana terrorist orginisation, who's only goal is the return of rural life in Theao, and also secretly a member of Theao's intelligence forces(terrorist devision) was commisioned to purchase the "pancakes" and ensure they get misdelivired.

As Darel arrived he took notice of the fellow competitors and examined the board. "90 million, nice amount" he said softly as he strode up and calmly wrote out 120 million. Then called out to the vendor that he would like a short stack with extra sauce.
The vendor, upon hearing the order, smiled from ear to ear and happily complied, bringing Darel a stack of the fluffiest pancakes he had ever seen by a wide margin. Accompanying the pancakes and replacing one of those mini-pitchers of syrup was a large pitcher, the kind used for water or various sodas, filled about halfway up with thick maple syrup. At the edge of losing its status as a liquid, the syrup glistened in an amber light as it stuck to the sides of the pitcher. Apparently the vendor took the words "extra syrup" a mite too literally.
Upon delivery of the cakes of the pan, the vendor leaned far over and whispered into Darel's ear, "Thank you much for the bid, good sir!", before hurrying back to his tent to continue shouting about the pancakes.

Digging into the pancakes with obvious delight he gave the vendor a substantial tip while settling in to watch for other bidders.

The old man watched as the sun began to fall beyond the distant hills. He rose and hobbled back to the chalk board and scratched out
"140 million USD -Tarus"

He then hobbled out into the street and leaned his old frame against a tent pole in the long, late afternoon shadows.

As Darel finished going to the bathroom he saw the old man hobble away from the board and went to investigate what the old man had done. Seeing the bid of 140 million he let out a low whistle. "We're getting up there" he said softly as he raised the bid to 150 million and wandered back to wait.

The old man hobbled over and wrote 170 million -Tarus and the board.

He looked up at the setting sun. The final moments

((OOC: Alcona, you sly bastard, waiting until the last second to pull something like that. :p ))
IC:

And so the sun had set, the auction was over. The man who was hauking pancakes all day approached the old man with a smile, dragging along behind him the box of "pancakes". He lay it in the dust at the old man's feet and pryed the lid back so that the man could see the contents, but the vendor could not. Inside the box were, as promised, stacks of glittering spheres with slits cut in them. Duct-taped to the lid was the universal remote for all of the "pancakes", ready and waiting for someone to take it up and use it against a worthy foe.
"Will that be cash or check?" the pancake vendor asked, placing the lid back in position.

((OOC: Alcona, you sly bastard, waiting until the last second to pull something like that. :p ))
IC:

And so the sun had set, the auction was over. The man who was hauking pancakes all day approached the old man with a smile, dragging along behind him the box of "pancakes". He lay it in the dust at the old man's feet and pryed the lid back so that the man could see the contents, but the vendor could not. Inside the box were, as promised, stacks of glittering spheres with slits cut in them. Duct-taped to the lid was the universal remote for all of the "pancakes", ready and waiting for someone to take it up and use it against a worthy foe.
"Will that be cash or check?" the pancake vendor asked, placing the lid back in position.

OOC: Hey theo did good waiting til 10:58. The fact that I know how things work on NS, especially auctions, is from experience. Hell I do happen to have gotten a Siri Elf Hug and been Wombated once so :P

The old man nodded. "I have Bearer Bonds in increments of 10 million and five million. Far more mobile than cash and far less tracable than anything else. Or we could do a double blind electronic transfer of funds..."

(Really 170 million in cash even in 1000 bills would be horrific in weight and quite obvious.)

Darel seeing that the old man had won the auction walked over.
"Congratulation sir, may I inquire what your target is. The reason I'm asking is that i wish to know if I should view you as a skilled buisnessman or a foe??

OOC: Hey theo did good waiting til 10:58. The fact that I know how things work on NS, especially auctions, is from experience. Hell I do happen to have gotten a Siri Elf Hug and been Wombated once so :P

The old man nodded. "I have Bearer Bonds in increments of 10 million and five million. Far more mobile than cash and far less tracable than anything else. Or we could do a double blind electronic transfer of funds..."

(Really 170 million in cash even in 1000 bills would be horrific in weight and quite obvious.)
((OOC: Bah, I voided my rights to getting a Siri Elf Hug when Siri found out I was a communist IRL. :D ))
IC:
"Let's go with the bonds," the vendor replied, "I have to have something tangable to give to my superiors."
(Assuming the bonds were handed over: )
"Pleasure doing business with you!" the vendor exclaimed, taking the bonds and pushing the crate of "pancakes" through the sand towards the old man. The vendor then headed back to his stall and could be seen in the twilight apparently feeding the bonds into one of the two non-pancake boxes. If one were to watch extremely closely, they could see the two boxes shuffle out the back of the tent and off into the night.

OOC: Mine was a pity hug anyway...but Resi being dead/ a communist...egads whats next, you married Eris IRL (laughs)

IC: The old man had pulled what first looked like just a sleeping roll from off his back and pulled out of a concelled pocket a wad of bonds. The remainder went back as he twisted the top of his cane.

Tarus turned to the young man who approached him. "I will sell up to 44 pancakes without syrup for five mill USD each. Take it or leave it young man...."

The market crowd was being pushed aside by an old canvas topped truck with a local oil company logo painted on the side. Few noticed the slightly off color men riding in the truck, they had seen it or ones just like it a thousand times before.

The truck stopped before the tent and men of varying ages and in local dress jumped out and loaded the crate onto the truck. A few continued to hang around waiting on the old man and the stranger.

"I'll take 40 for 200 million if your willing to take a credchip" Darel said as the boxes were being loaded. It has been a pleasure competing against you and hope we will meet later on, hopefully not at cross purposes.

OOC: Mine was a pity hug anyway...but Resi being dead/ a communist...egads whats next, you married Eris IRL (laughs)
((OOC: Shhhh.... >_>
Actually, Eris was quite a bit older than me in reality. I'm a senior in high school, and she's out of college with kids. :p ))

OOC: Congrats, Alcona. Curse me and my need to sleep! :D

OOC: Well Resi I thought you were in college....and yes I know Eris (I just remembered her RL name finally) had a kid and a artist fiance...and your west coast and she was in the mid-west. One of the few people I ever chated with on IRQ on a regular basis.

Facehuggeria: Thanks, but it always has been the last five mintues of an auction that are most important. Hell I've seen a P-51 go for enough to buy a Ronald Regan Aircraft Carrier...

IC: The old man looked around. "Now is not the time to be trying to make up your order...too many disgruntled bidders may be deciding to win by the gun rather than the dollar."

The old man twisted a second section of his cane and pulled out a dagger. However he just winked at his customer and handed him a slip of paper from the scabbard portion. It had two words scribbled on it in cheap ink.

"Meet me at the dock at the end of the street in fourty hours. I dare not stay here any longer...."

The old man was pulled up into the back of the truck as it began to move forward with its load. The truck pushed its way out of the bazzar and into the desert dusk.

An examination of the slip of paper would indicate that the two names were of a small, nearby port city and a street in the old part of the city. At the old harbor the street formed a short dock.
******
(Why I'm thinking about this...I'll just post this)

Fourty Hours later....

The narrow street along the water's edge was empty. Old buildings of mud brown brick seemed to be slowly turning back into piles of dirt. The only sign of life were a few women who had just turned up a side street and a mutt nosing around a pile of garbage. The smell of sulfer from the stacks of a refinary standing just beyond a row of rusting metal wherehouses made the air barley breathable.

On a short stone jetty out into the blue waters of the harbor was an old pavillion of some sort. Under the pavillion sat a figure in white at a bench looking out over harbor.

Darel checked his watch. Rendevou time. As he walked down the street, eyes taking the surroundings in. He had come armed this time because of the more clandestine nature of the trasaction. As he noticed the person on the bench he went up to the person and asked "got any pancakes?"

"Ah, yes pancakes..." The man in white turned. He was dressed similar to the old man Taurus but it was not Taurus who was beaming at thim. "an intresting term for a segmented ball..."

He stood up, "I assume that your armed...but your suffering from red dot disease..."

Small red dots from laser targeting devices now illuminated Darel's side and back. "I am not here to rob you or kill you...I just want to talk...about pancakes" The man's mouth was a thin smile as he held out his hand.

"What would you like to know about pancakes. They're made of flour and water, cooked and eaten with toppings which range from butter to suryp to fruit sauce. If made properly they are flat not round and quite delicious"
Darel said

"Ah, well then...a simple man with a simple answer..." He raised his hand over his head and took a few steps back "...blood stains are hard to get out of clothing..."

The man's eyes held no emotion, just two cold blue orbs in his face.

"Before you kill me tell me who you work for. If the answer is satasfactory then I will tell you about "Pancakes". Darel stated "Also I will answer all other questions that I am able to."

OOC: Well Resi I thought you were in college....and yes I know Eris (I just remembered her RL name finally) had a kid and a artist fiance...and your west coast and she was in the mid-west. One of the few people I ever chated with on IRQ on a regular basis.
((OOC: Kind of in an interesting place school-wise, actually. I'm 18, and technically haven't finished high school yet and am currently taking high school classes, but I'm taking college classes on top of those. Sort of like being in two schools at once. :p ))

OOC: Knew a kid in college who was seventeen and in college. However, his highschool refused to graduate him (He was one requirement shy) which was sort of funny at the time. I think the highschool finally relented and let him have a diploma...Personally I took a college course in highschool but was caused by scheduling difficulties...(I couldn't get into a chemistry class in highschool and stay in both physics and calculus...)

IC: A corner of the mans face inched upwards. "Well, perhaps you should know...but not out here...One can never be too careful in a nation such as this. However, if you would drop your weapon we can retire to that closed shop...." he pointed to a store with borded up windows on the ground floor of a nearby building.
"....There I will gladly inform you as to who I am and represent. But at the moment, let us just say I represent Mr. Jhovich's...the gentleman with the cane...prior employer."

Darel "If I give you the powercore, would that be acceptable because the gun is DNA bonded and if someone other than me handles it ,regardless of power level or damage, the gun will kill them. If I hand over all ammo and propellent and submit to a full scan would that satisfy you?"

High General Agnas was one of the most decorated men in the Resi Corporation, a fact enhanced by the reality that he was one of few decorated men in the Resi Corporation. A true success story, Agnas was brought up from the slums when he volunteered to fight in the Resian military alongside the robots. He grew to like the robots, and trusted them and their programming with his life and soul. It was this attitude towards robotics in the military that set him apart from his comrades and made him true leadership material. After serving two tours of duty in two seperate wars, he was shot up the chain of command, constantly gaining ground as he demonstrated new levels of determination and skill. Eventually he gained control of a fifth of the Resian military, as well as some key intelligence agencies. This transaction had been entirely his idea, and after getting endorsement from the CEO, he set his plan into motion. Now that the corporation was richer by about 20 times the production price of the nanovirus, it was his duty to follow through on the transaction, and make sure it went over smoothly. He was not to interfere, lest he gain the ire of an otherwise friendly terrorist group, just to observe the transaction's participants from a distance.

A spy satellite zoomed in on the two men, following their movements closely. No audio was available, but Agnas' common sense told him the high bidder was trying to re-sell part or all of the product to the other bidder at a profit. He had no qualms with this, and no reason to have them. It ment double the workload, sure, but he really had no other choice than to let the men go ahead with their deal.

((OOC: We are obviously not going to participate in the transaction on the ground, and aren't going to stop the virus before it goes off or anything unless it threatens some very imporant Resian assets. Then we'd probably have to do something. However, we won't do jack for allies or our minor assets until after the fact.
FYI, the virus is referred to as "Rotan" in the higher circles of the Resi Corporation and one other nation that knows of it. There is no known cure as of yet, although Resicorp has claimed in private to have one. Oh, and most importantly after the individual nanomachines disguised as lymph cells exact their damage on victim's nervous system, they break apart into protean, leaving no trace. Forgot to mention that really important bit.))

Darel "If I give you the powercore, would that be acceptable because the gun is DNA bonded and if someone other than me handles it ,regardless of power level or damage, the gun will kill them. If I hand over all ammo and propellent and submit to a full scan would that satisfy you?"

"I am afraid sir that I do not have the inclination to watch you unload and disable your signiture gun. A proper agent would know how to turn a powercore into an improptu grenade. So I suggest you toss the weapon into the water sir, and then we can continue on. I know an expensive option for you, but DNA registering does have the occasional draw back."

OOC: Well depending on how well your watching things Resi you should know that the 'pancakes' got loaded onto a helo and sent out here. I don't know if you have figured out that Tarus left via a sea plane, or that there has been some repackaging going on with the pancakes.

"I am afraid sir that I do not have the inclination to watch you unload and disable your signiture gun. A proper agent would know how to turn a powercore into an improptu grenade. So I suggest you toss the weapon into the water sir, and then we can continue on. I know an expensive option for you, but DNA registering does have the occasional draw back."

OOC: Well depending on how well your watching things Resi you should know that the 'pancakes' got loaded onto a helo and sent out here. I don't know if you have figured out that Tarus left via a sea plane, or that there has been some repackaging going on with the pancakes.
((OOC: I blame it on fuzzy satellite images. http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/s/shakefist.gif

Oh, that and I skimmed over a page of the thread after I realized it went on after the deal was closed. :( ))

"If our conversation turns out to be beneficial could I rely on some measure of finacial compensation for the gun. Essentially if this works out could I rely on the fact that you or the people to which you report to would provide partial or full compensation to me or those who I report to." Darel stated

A chuckle, "In this buisness you learn to have disposable weapons...I am afraid your orginization will get to write either you or your gun off as a buisness expense. Your choice..."

(OOC: An an Rp has seemed to develop out of this auction...rare...the only other one I recall was the Nathi panty auction ;)
Hmm most of that hasn't been revealed ICly yet...but then I wasn't expecting Resi Corp. to try to keep tabs on things. Just ignoring these events would give Resi Corp. plausable deniablity...
example: "Huh? what? Oh dear...you know the previous admin was a bit sloppy with paperwork, socialists always are...
People start to notice when other people's sats start hanging around...although I doubt it with this sand lot of a nation)

"Okay I'll dispose of it" as he draws it flicks a switch on the bottom and tosses in the bay, a few seconds later almost fifty fish float to the surface.
"Happy now?" Darel asked

"I am sure that some of the local waifs will be quite pleased with the easy fish diner that you have provided them." His arm went down behind him and then to his side. "Now then, if you'll kindly turn around and walk over to my temporary shop we can have a nice quiet chat about pancakes and things."

As they approached the shop door it swung open letting both enter the shop. Inside paint peeled off the brick and the smell of mold filled the air. The only light was from the borded up windows and a bare flourecent light that was just flickering on.

By the windows were two figures in light body armor, both were females. The one who opened the door was carrying a G3 with a suppressor. The second was still looking out the window with a suppressed anti-material sniping rifle on the floor next to her.

As the first woman closed the door she locked it and switched on a small device sitting by her feet. Any electronic listening devices were going to be sending back a squeal that would cause serious pain in any ears listening in.

"Please have a seat..." The man pointed towards a dirty white plastic chair sitting next to a card table. "Would you like some tea?..." The man walked over to a broken down counter and started to pour tea from a thermos into a styrofom cup.

"Now then you asked who I was...Let's call me Agent...Lynn, I am a member of the United Duchies International Intelligence Section, better known as the IIS. The ladies are both Alconian Marines who have useful training in this type of operation."

He sat down across the table from Darel. "You will understand if none of us present credentials...the locals are not too freindly towards my government at the moment...His Grace's Navy has a tendency to deal quite harsly with some of the regions more...how should we put it...enterprising mariners."

Darel walked over to sit at the chair. "I'll pass on the tea and I understand exactly what you mean in regard to 'enterprising mariners'. What would you wish to talk about in relation to 'pancakes'?"

"Well my first question is what are these balls? We keep calling them 'pancakes' but I want to know what they really are. And my second question is why you would want thirty of them?"

"In answer to your first question they are suppose to be a very powerful biotech weapon. And to answer the second one my official employer wants to use them to return life to a more rural based life instead of a high-tech city life. My real employer wants to both get them off the market as well as study them to develop an antidote/vaccine to protect itself if these are every used against them." Darel explained.

Outside a young boy had wandered out of the shadows of a crumbling building and looked into the harbor. He saw the fish floating at the surface and dropped into the water.

The marine looking out the window muttered "Partridge in the Green..."

Agent Lynn nodded, "At a price tag of five million each and no real radiation signiture to speak of I assumed they were some sort of bio-weapon or advanced chemical explosive."

He paused to look at the windows for a second, "I am a bit curious, I've seldom met a double agent who is so free with their status. From it I would assume that this Offical employeer is so riddled with double agents that by now it is effectively an unoffical branch of your real employer?"

"Actually my Official employer isnt some much rife with double-agents as with incompetents. Also I know every field agent of my Employer, I hired them." Darel stated with a short sarcastic chuckle

The kid pulled himself out of the water and began to run for home. He had his tattered shirt pulled up like an apron and it was full of fresh fish.

"Ah...sir, a Partriage just ran off carrying enough fish to feed a small village around here...I'd say someone is going to notice."

Agent Lynn turned to the woman standing by the door. "Captain, how long before one of the local Penquins comes looking about to see what the Partriages are up to?"

"That kid will get stopped by someone and asked where he got the fish. He'll try to lie...but whoever will see right through it...then they'll come down here to look with a few others...the whole market place a few moments after that. Then the Penquins show up, likely in force to stop any potental protest....I'd say we have fifteen to twenty before the harbor is crawling with the curious and armed."

Agent Lynn just nodded and returned his gaze to Darel. "Two last questions, First would you be so kind as to identify yourself? And second would your real employer still like to gain acess to say twenty of these devices?"

"I am Darel Strag of Theao Intelligence and yes we would still be intrested in getting the devices." Darel stated "I take it you have an Evac plan? If not I could offer you a way out if you dont mind being cramped."

"I am Darel Strag of Theao Intelligence and yes we would still be intrested in getting the devices." Darel stated "I take it you have an Evac plan? If not I could offer you a way out if you dont mind being cramped."

Agent Lynn nodded, "Thank You...but we do have an evac plan and several new human intel sources to vacate." He stood and walked over to the thermos and cups and broke a cup apart. On a small fragment he wrote a phrase. "I am afraid you'll have to go home empty handed but my government can be contacted at our Knootian Embassy to transfer some of the Black Apple Turnovers to your government using this code....Damn, I forgot to ask how many were originally for sale in the bazzar and did they come with a detenator?"
Agent Lynn turned stuffing the fragment of cup into the spout in the thermos top as asked the question.

"Oh, and ask any questions you might have..."

The marines were now breaking down their weapons and attaching the parts to the into the insides of black chadors.

ooc:How do I contact your Knootian Embassy and could you tell me how I did in terms of RP this thread.

ic:"May I ask what your intrest in these are and is there a possiblity of a allience
(formal/informal) between our nations at this time or should this be persued throught official channels? Also it was nice working with you agent Lynn." Darel said as he took the information as he prepared to leave.

lol........ that whole thing was soooo long I didnt even read it and just started to type...

The marines floated out the door into the empty street as Agent Lynn handed over the thermos. "The gentleman who purchased these devices is an enemy of my state. He is the leader of a terrorist orginization that wishes to return Hubris to socialist rule. Obviously his purchase of these devices has given us some problems."

Agent Lynn stood on a chair and pulled out the flourecent bulb, then threw it into a rubbish pile at the far end of the hall.

"As for the other item you just asked, I'm afraid that is far above my pay grade..." He opened the door and grabbed the metal box sitting by the door.

"Good day sir, If you check under the trash cans next to the Bitho Shave sign down the block you'll find one of my hidden automatics. Not a full replacement but at least you'll be armed for your journey out."

He turned and walked up the cobblestones towards the werehouse as two elderly men appeared around the corner. They looked about and walked over to the old warf.

OOC: Hmm, Oh just that RL embassys are more used than on NS. Knootoss is one of those epicenters of trade and commerce in the NS world. Assume they were transfered without incident. I am part of the FKC which means making formal alliances tends to be a drawn out process in RL.

I think we both need to talk to Resi about attempting any reverse engineering on these things. (I'm about to hand them over to an uber tech ally)

As for your Rp...not bad...I think your agent was a bit free with information in the end. But your not another "of acel" which is very very good. I don't know if Role Playing University is still around, but you may find it helpful (not a critical statment, just informing you of resources that exist out there for newbies who want to improve their RP, there was something similar when I was first starting out,but it died shortly after I arrived.)

I expect Resi to throw in his two credits worth now...

(And Dot...the Auction is Over and this is a tangental thread...won't wind up in the archives but hell...how can anything live up to the Nathi Panty Auction)

(OOC: An an Rp has seemed to develop out of this auction...rare...the only other one I recall was the Nathi panty auction ;)
Hmm most of that hasn't been revealed ICly yet...but then I wasn't expecting Resi Corp. to try to keep tabs on things. Just ignoring these events would give Resi Corp. plausable deniablity...
example: "Huh? what? Oh dear...you know the previous admin was a bit sloppy with paperwork, socialists always are...
People start to notice when other people's sats start hanging around...although I doubt it with this sand lot of a nation)
((OOC: Need-to-know basis, classified, top secret, we're pulling out all the fancy terms for this one. Besides, there's no paper trail unless someone psychicly plots our satellite movements as we're making them, somehow knowing that we have anything to do with this. There's only one nation that could finger the blame on us, and everyone ICly thinks they're raving lunatics anyway. ;) ))

ooc:thanks for the tips

ic: Darel went down to the sign, picked up the rifle then headed to his ride. He had a few things to inform his superior about and then he would be back in the field.

((OOC: Need-to-know basis, classified, top secret, we're pulling out all the fancy terms for this one. Besides, there's no paper trail unless someone psychicly plots our satellite movements as we're making them, somehow knowing that we have anything to do with this. There's only one nation that could finger the blame on us, and everyone ICly thinks they're raving lunatics anyway. ;) ))

OOC: Er, I'm not trying to trace it...but take it apart actually I'm going to hand it over to the Var (The Lords of War) and let them play with the damn things. (Of course the things attempting to pretend to be human lymph cells with an alien species presents difficulties...I'm not sure the Var have a compatable DNA system...(six base pairs rather than four)

OOC: Er, I'm not trying to trace it...but take it apart actually I'm going to hand it over to the Var (The Lords of War) and let them play with the damn things. (Of course the things attempting to pretend to be human lymph cells with an alien species presents difficulties...I'm not sure the Var have a compatable DNA system...(six base pairs rather than four)
((OOC: Well, we know the disease is compatible with elves due to similarities in physiology, but aleins might be a stretch. In fact, if the aleins don't have an equivilant of the human lymph system it might not work at all. Then again, the lymph system is a pretty damn useful thing, and it'd be hard to see how a mobile lifeform of the same size as a human could survive without it. Oh, and I know you're not trying to trace it, but someone that gets it used on them might have wanted to.))

((OOC: Well, we know the disease is compatible with elves due to similarities in physiology, but aleins might be a stretch. In fact, if the aleins don't have an equivilant of the human lymph system it might not work at all. Then again, the lymph system is a pretty damn useful thing, and it'd be hard to see how a mobile lifeform of the same size as a human could survive without it. Oh, and I know you're not trying to trace it, but someone that gets it used on them might have wanted to.))

OOC: Well it becomes an intresting digression into level of complexity the device has and what the parts were programmed to do. I guess my best analogy is that you have a machine using base 10 and throw a base 16 number at it you'll get a weird mess or just a plain error message. Based on your description and the Var...It would be fairly unaffective except to a very weakend creature. Anyway...I'll let the Var play around with these things...

OOC: Well it becomes an intresting digression into level of complexity the device has and what the parts were programmed to do. I guess my best analogy is that you have a machine using base 10 and throw a base 16 number at it you'll get a weird mess or just a plain error message. Based on your description and the Var...It would be fairly unaffective except to a very weakend creature. Anyway...I'll let the Var play around with these things...
((OOC: I don't particularly know what they are, I'm just writing my assumptions. Also, nanomachines can't get error messages, they just enter into sort of an infinate loop of looking for an objective that's not there. Therefore they'd most likely swarm around whatever systems appear to be closest to their objectives (lymph, then nerves). This means that they could easily block the flow of vital fluids, which in itself could be leathal but much less leathal than the purpose they were designed for.))