The Tiacken Tribune

The Adventures of WalkingRazor will not be continued this week. After the enormous effort expended in the telling of his tale thus far, Walkingrazor collapsed into a mild coma. The Tribune physicians are working on him presently, and have assured us that he will be able to continue his heroic tale next week. Be sure to tune in. So, in the interim, please enjoy this issue of the Tiacken Tribune!

Money in the Bank!

The settlers who risked everything to move to the Pardus cluster have finally begun to see the rewards this week. Word is that the Galactic Council, long rumored to be myths…constructs designed to keep the young children of the universe well-behaved, have begun paying the Starbase owners large sums of credits for their fortitude. The Freeholders Alliance (FHA), one of the oldest and largest alliances in Pardus, is the greatest beneficiary of the Council’s sudden generosity. With 5 Starbases crowded into the Pardus sector, FHA stands to earn between 1.5 and 1.75 million credits daily. You read that right. That equals an astonishing 10,500,000 per week minimum! How long FHA’s stranglehold on Starbase ownership lasts after we run this article remains to be seen.

Supervillian in Fed Space! (Vashniir)

Finally, the last VIP is standing and Earth is not responding… his Superlaser begins the slow process of revving up for one world-destroying blast….

He had, however, made one fatal mistake: giving them too much time to prepare. Hordes of Federation-loyal pilots flocked to the scene, guns blazing in unison. Lone Star’s infamous Slave Army rushed to greet them in kind, but the numbers were in the Feds’ favour and the Slaves fall…

The Horde closed around his Doomstar as the gun’s final lock popped, releasing a wail as it began to fire…

The cobbled-together Union prototype superweapon short circuited, detonating and crippling his ship. Fed Marines board the tattered wreck, gunfire chattering across the bulkheads as they fought their way to the bridge.

Toasting his defeat with a vintage bottle of Skudweiser, Lone Star smiled as he contemplated matters. In a stunning display of what could be construed as either valor or foolishness, he blew his own door outward into the mass, killing several marines even as his rifle ripped through more. As the counterattack forced him to duck low, a last taunt was reported to echo across the room: “Come on, you Federation scum! You really wanna *censored* with this?!”

Some of the surviving Federation troops argue about what happened next, but the most consistent (and newsworthy) reports describe the scene as if from some terrible Earth holovid about Gangsters and bloodshed. According to the witnesses, Lone Star whipped out an oversized rifle and unleashed his fury upon the attackers.

Finally, as the smoke cleared, he examined his own wounds. Nine rounds had found their mark. The Marine Public Press Release stated that Lone Star “collapsed into a pool of his own blood.” There was, however, no corpse was released to the public, leaving us with one burning question:

Is the Federation hiding the embarassing escape of a bold foe? Or was there simply nothing left of their enemy to release? We may never know…

The Pirate Song

The Tribune went through untold length and hardship to bring you this song, direct from the mouth of one of the Universe’s most notorious pirates, Amai y Hassa. We were told that the roots of this song are in ancient Earth. By ancient, of course, we are talking about the millenia before the first Pardus war. For those that do not know, Amai y Hassa, prior to enlisting the the Federal Service, was a rock star in Sol. Anyhow, without further ado, we are proud to present you with this musical masterpiece!

Verse 1:
Pirate! - they say, that’s fine with me
My own law is what I obey
I am a man whose will is free
I never cares what the codes say

Steered by devil or by Lord
What real difference does it make?
My will is like my rusty sword
Bend it too much and it will break

Learn to use the sword to the ends
that agree with the sword’s proud heart
Cause if you swing with unskilled hands
Your own kisser it shall slap hard!

Chorus:
Old as the world is my story
and lousy as only it can be
I’m not a diplomat, sorry
And they won’t make a trader of me

Their flattery got on my nerves
They even praised my every flaw
Yarr, I replied, I will not serve
I’m a pirate and never will bow

Verse 2:
I want liquor, dance, dainty food
A lovely gal for a trophy
Someone to raid in somber mood
And on weekends - philosophy

But no drink and no sage clever
Offer heavens I’d desire
Nor hells I’d fear; And I’ll never
Under a wife’s heel retire

It’s my headache and my error
My French disease, guts and coin glance
And my, finally, soul in terror
When Grim Reaper asks for a dance!

Chorus:
Old as the world is my story
And lousy as only it can be
I’m not a diplomat, sorry
And they won’t make a trader of me

Evil? – I might be. Good? – but why?
I am not that ostentatious
Let me live in sin and in sin die
And the Saints will also be gracious!

Fireworks over Paradiso(Bryan)

The cold dark eternal night over the starbase Paradiso was briefly brighten Wednesday evening when a behemoth trade ship called the CS Big Slow Cadillac decided to redecorate a few of the superstructures happily planted on top of the installation’s pylons. The ship was reported to have released multiple explosive bursts of photons, and the stations automatic defense systemd never skipped a beat.

Several laser exchanges later; a load of brains estimated at a good 500,000 credits could be seen gently flaming into infinity as well as an escape pod cruising towards an unknown destination. Upon being hailed, the pilot inside, GrimJack, simply said it was a malfunction in the ships controls with a slur, and that he would never have had an armed conflict with a Starbase. Before he could really react, it was all over.

Doubting the validity of the assailant’s story, station security decided to probe a bit deeper. They pulled the records of the one in question, as well as tapes from the outer cameras of the Starbase, and were pleased to find that indeed, the story was half farce. The truth of the matter was that the pilot had been smoking drugs from a greenish pipe. The authorities were informed. Not ten minutes later, the white light of destruction was seen by GrimJack again as another pilot pounced on him due to the bounties placed on his head. The Tribune wishes Grimjack a speedy recovery, and a successful attempt at rehab!

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