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Mid-West Confederation communication & recruiting thread
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#228
by Citizen plephart - 7/12/2003 1:31:37 AM
 MWC climbs back into third place!
Way to go guys (and girl  ). We passed up the Euros today and have our sights set on the Undead Canadians, only 8000 points away. And the gap between us and the mortal enemies of the people for which we stand, GROSS, continues to narrow!
And how bout this new bunch of recruits, great production and talkative on the boards, I love it. Thanks folks, you've injected a well needed shot of adrenaline into this empire and represent your empire well.
I'm glad to hear you all are enjoying the game so much, I know myself and the rest of the vets still are constantly challenged by this game and I for one still love not only it but the community here.
| Tim: Some folks have never posted a loss in their rankings, gotta have at least one for character |
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Check me out fellow 'sconnie, threw one loss on my record long ago before I knew what the heck the metaverse was all about  Never thought of it as character but hey why not.
| Tim: Not everyone starts out playing at crippling or masochist, I think some folks forget that... |
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Play at whatever pace you like Tim, our highest scoring member kryofx has played most of his games at difficulties near normal. There has been some mockery of those who consistently milk the easy levels for metaverse score but there is no shame in working your way up the difficulties and finding one in which you have the most fun in playing.
Tim: Do we post stuff like what I've seen here from others in their message boards?
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You can post whatever you like here. GROSS has that whole pirate theme goin on over there and they pretend to steal booty and drink their swill all the time. The wacky ANZACs are into pranking the other empires with drop bears and the like. And the Fellowship of the Ring is obviously based on Tolkien's famous works and they like to role play over there too. Here, well we started as a semi-exclusive regional empire and now are trying to shift into a more cultural theme based empire, with more to it than say the pure regionals such as the Euros and the Canadians. Their threads are pretty bare and don't contribute much to the GalCiv community. I and others in the MWC would like it if we could contribute a bit more than them.
| JordanVmp: I'm trying to see if we can get some more girls to join up with our empire |
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Great thought JordanVmp, I've seen some of your other posts in the forums and I appreciate your help is recruiting.
Senator plephart
Come Realize Your Manifest Destiny in the People's Empire!
Join the Mid-Western Confederation at  Link
[Message Edited]
        
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Drop Bear ambles over to the ANZAC work bench, and peers over his comrade's shoulder: "What on earth are you doing with those cute, adorable possums, Wombat?"
Space Wombat: "Ahh...they may look cute and adorable, but these two babies are Victorian Attack Possums - once they enter a house, they can never be removed, unless you knock the place down."
"Note that I have bonded adamantine to their skeletons, diamond tips to their claws, and their vision is enhanced with bionic laser implants. When these two are let loose in the MWC homestead, nothing will escape."
"You will see, Drop Bear, that I have cleverly dressed them in children's pyjamas. I have even sewn name tags on their clothes: "Joshua" and "Jordan". Ha! We will leave them just outside the homestead, and idleprocess will mistake them for his children...and take them inside.....then it's LAMB CHOPS AT THE MWC HOMESTEAD!!!"
Drop Bear: "Wombat, you know you DID have an awful lot of beer during that last raid on the DOOM ship...."
SW: "NO - this is serious! I have trained them to attack only MALE farmers...I mean - did you see that picture of Mrs. idleprocess? 
She's an idlePRINCESS! I reckon those midwestern ladies won't look back after some time with suave, sophisticated Australian MEN, compared to those farmboys."
"This is our big chance - wipe out their homestead, take their women, and make sure there is one less obstacle between us and GROSS."
"It is our DESTINY........."
     
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Later that evening, the peace meeting was in progress. The simple farmers were seated on one side of the room, the pirates on another. A Peace Pipe had been lit and its heady smoke was already calming the gathered meeting. Spymaster Gerakken was the first speaker, chosen for his suave manner and optimal choice of buttery words (for which he had won many Prose contests at the Viscountess’s Skowbo swamp Temple, but that is another story).
The Spymaster looked frazzled and very, very tired. “We are gathered here to find common ground. To forge trust and friendship between our two great empires. But first I feel that our leaders should give a hand of friendship to each other, as a gesture of where we want to go.” Pontius and a farmer got to their feet and each began to move a hand of friendship towards the other.
The timing had been critical. With a flick, Dropbear switched on the disc and from the ship’s speakers came gittar music and the sounds of:
Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya
Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya
Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya
Oh Lord kumbaya
Pontius screamed at the sugary music and raised a fist, shouting. The simple farmers reared back in horror. The peace meeting dissolved into an ugly brawl, watched by the Spymaster who shook his head sadly.
Dropbear looked on. The ANZAC mission had been a complete success.
 
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#237
by Citizen Zoshan - 7/14/2003 2:44:44 AM
The bartender looked through the glass he was polishing , then added it to the stack on the bar back.
He was worried and scared, and he was anxious for the night to end. Nobody ws talking and the saloon was half-full.
Pontius was there,seated at a table in the corner with Staffa and Gerakken.The bartender knew them all, and not favrably. He wanted them to leave, but was far too wise a man to order them out. Pontius was drinking, and the bartender knew what that meant, though as yet he had not had much.
The bartender had just picked up another glass when the door opened. He looked that way and felt something freeze up tight within him. At first glance he thought the newcomer was Plephart, but this man was heavier. He wore his hair down to his shoulders, and there was a scar running from his ear to his throat.
He wore two-tied down anti-matter pistols and his vest was open, showing the butt of a third. He was dusty and unkempt, and paused momentarily in the door to let his eyes grow accustomed to the light. His nose had been broken in more than one fight, and there was a wild, reckless look about him that made the barkeep's heart skip a beat. He came on to the bar, spurs jingling, a powerful man with the movements of a stalking lion.
"Rye," he said, then let his eyes drift over the room. They found Pontius and rested there, then examined Gerakken and Staffa.
Staffa saw him first, and spoke in an undertone to the others.
Looking at Pontius the man spoke, "Folks over on Crassius said somebody on this planet is hunting a Mid-Westerner."
"So?" It was Pontius who spoke.
I'm Zoshan of the Mid-Western Empire and I've come a fur piece jus to he'p my kin."
Pontius had not yet had too much to drink, but what he had was working on him. What sanity remained warned him that the bounty was to kill Plephart. Furthermore, there was nothing about this big, uncurried wolf that appealed to him. The name Zoshan had rung a bell...it was a name known wherever intergalactic smugglers and criminals congregated, from the Sol system all the way to the outer belt.
The word that came over the grapevine was loud and clear: Zoshan? Leave him alone.
We're not hunting you," Pontius replied evenly.
"Mister, you are hunting a Mid-Westerner, an the one you're hunting would, man to man, make you eat that phaser gun you're packin." Howsoever, when you hunt one Mid-Westerner, you just naturally make the rest of us feel the urge.
"Now I don't know if I can find Plep before the rest of GROSS does, so I figured to trim off the edges, like. You look maverick to me, so I figured to put the Mid-Western brand on you."
There were five other GROSS bounty hunters in the room.
For the first time in his life, Pontius was prepared to talk himself out of a fight. He was a moneyfighter, and there was nothing in this but trouble with a capital T. He started to speak, but the butt of his phaser was only inches from his hand. Suddenly, he thought, The hell with it! And he grabbed the bone handle of his phaser pistol.
Pontius eye was quick and accurate, but he never saw the draw that killed him. He saw Zoshan's hand move and then he was blinded by a stabbing light.
What....? He wanted to know what was happening to him, but only the dead could have told him.
The bartender at he moment of drawing had thrown himself to the floor. The roar of weapon fire filled the room, along with multihued lights-then silence. When the bartender looked up Zoshan was standing over a young GROSS pirate who had lost his gun in the excitement. It was inches from his hand.
"Go ahead , son," Zoshan said mildly, "pick it up. No one gets to live forever."
The young GROSS gunman wanted to pick it up and kill him. His thrist for revenge and his ambition told him to do it. But his body had better sense, and his muscles refused to resond. Slowly, he sagged back away from the neutron blaster. Zoshan shook his head reprovingly. "Son, you take it from me. Don't ever tie one of those on again. Somebody will feed it to you."
He turned back to the bar and was startled to see a tall elegant young man in a tailored broadcloth suit, a black planter's hat, and Earth-made boots holding an anti-matter gun on another table of GROSS pirates.
Without averting his eyes from the men at the table the stranger said," How are you Zoshan? I am Tim, a fellow Mid-Westerner from Sol."
Zoshan smiled, "A Sol Mid-Westerner? I have heard of' em. Never did meet up with one before."
Tim grinned back. "These lads were getting restless. It seemed a good idea to restrain them. I'll buy a drink and if the GROSS boys get fractious, we'll share and share alike."
Only if you let us in," came a voice from the door. They turned to face the newcomers. Plephart and Jon50, newly arrived walked across the bar, and were greeted.
[Message Edited]
   
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“And do you fully realize how GROSS has done you wrong?” shouted Cotal, fist raised dramatically. Dropbear rolled his soft, expressive green eyes, and thought ‘that was unconvincing’.
Yet, the gathered crowd of simple farmers (with the accent heavily on ‘simple’) whooped and hollered. Hate filled their simple eyes. “Yes, yes, we been wronged, like” said one simple individual. “We been nice and cheery, but they like, done us wrong”. The crowd of them hooted and made raspberries for some long, long minutes. The cry of “Lit’s git Ponshush” went up soon after.
After the mob of simple farmers had left for the dock, flaming torches in their simple hands, Cotal wept into her handkerchief. “That was so, so, so…evil” she said. “I am forever stained”.
Dropbear looked at her askance.
“You know it had to be done. One way or another, we shall get to the top. If it means climbing over the other dead empires, so be it. We didn’t first draw the line in the sand. We didn’t first kick sand in the face. We didn’t…well you get the idea. Granted, it’s not a job that any of us enjoy. But it is our birth right to have a place in the sun, a place where our children and their children can grow unmolested, free to reach their spiritual heights. Free to drink wine, and I suppose beer. Free to be, all that they can be. This is my dream. This is your dream. This is Our Dream. This is what it means to stand tall and say, ‘I am an ANZAC’.”
Tired, yet fulfilled, he waddled to the door, and left, contemplatively.
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#239
by Citizen plephart - 7/14/2003 12:07:08 PM
Meanwhile on board the MWC flagship the "Manifest Destiny" the senate convenes…..
Emperor Surther brought the meeting to order " Plephart, what news of the front do you have and what about this rumor that Pontius has been killed"
"The battle goes well, we have valiantly fought off several raiding parties from the Euro alliance and the Undead Canadians in the past week and have expanded our borders significantly. Sources now have us as the 2nd most powerful empire in the metaverse. The new recruits that have come in recently have fought fiercely and do us old timers well. In fact I do believe that it is time for us to once again focus our attentions towards our most bitter enemy GROSS."
"Yes, yes, GROSS again but what of the rumors of their leader Pontius’ death and where is senator Zoshan!?" interjected Senator idleprocess.
"I briefly ran into Zoshan on one of the border colonies at one of the worker pubs. Some of the pirate scum were there looking for me, seems I have a bounty on my head. Zoshan arrived before me and apparently took them by surprise….when I arrived, Zoshan had everything under control, except that their Spymaster had quietly slipped out in the commotion."
"And although it was hard to believe, it looked as though it was Pontius’ crumpled body strewn out on the floor, a single phaser blast in the middle of the forehead. Still I found it troubling that the legendary pirate boss would let himself be caught so off guard, so I have brought his body back for DNA testing, its quite possible that this was just one of Pontius’ many doubles. Gerakken seems to like to take them with him on his missions, takes the heat of him and gives him a chance to sneak off when things get too hot. As for Zoshan, he stayed behind to interrogate the few GROSS bounty hunters that were still alive."
Emperor Surther rose to speak. " This is both disturbing and exciting news, its been quite awhile since the pirates have been so bold as to cross the neutral zone of unoccupied space and infiltrate our colonies….we must be becoming a priority on their hit list again. Yet let us not overlook the Undead Canadians though as their raiding parties are still terrifying our citizens as we speak, and we must subdue them before we focus too much attention on the pirates."
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#241
by Veteran kryo - 7/14/2003 5:36:39 PM
"Emperor, we're recieveing a transmission from the MWS Blizzard in the border worlds region." said a nameless comm lackey.
Emperor Surther waved dismissively to the lackey. "Put it on the main screen."
The main veiwscreen of the MWS Maifest Destiny flickered to life and displayed a grim, mysterious figure. He was cloaked entirely in black and wore black gloves as well. All that could actually be seen of him was a pair of glowing blue eyes beneath the hood of his cloak. "Greetings Emperor. I bring news of my efforts on the front lines," spoke the figure in a deep, gravelly voice.
"It is good to hear from you, Senator Kryofenix. We were just about to dismiss the senate, but I'm certain the other senators can wait while we hear your report," replied the Emperor.
"We have secured yet another system in the name of the MWC. There was only token resistance from the neutral mercenaries who controlled the system... but I think you will be very interested to see the source of the resistance." Kryo reached briefly out of view, and produced a pale, disembodied head. As he held the head distastefully by its hair, a thin wisp of fog could be seen seeping out of his sleeve and forming frost on the still-warm head.
"Pontius," mumbled Idleprocess.
"It appears we won't be needing that DNA test after all," commented Plephart, "if there are two of him then there are certainly more, and it's very unlikely that either of these two are really him."
"Yes, it would seem that way," continued Kryo. "My ship's surgeon found some sort of computer chip attatched to his spinal cord. He believes that it is some sort of remote control device. He also performed a DNA test, and the results are rather interesting. This man's DNA matches that of Pontius for the most part, but it seems to be damaged in many areas. The only possible cause of this is that this man is some sort of very shoddy clone. The damage to its genetic code makes it stupider, weaker, slower, and even more prone to alchoholism."
"Hmmmmm," mused Emperor Surther, "this does not bode well. Even though these clones are inferior, we will need to exercise caution when we encounter them. If they are being controlled remotely, they are probably transmitting everything they see and hear back to the Pirates' headquarters as well. This sounds like exactly the sort of thing that the spymaster would do"
"Indeed," answered Kryo. "I shall look into this matter further when the opportunity presents itself. We can only hope that we can get to the bottom of this before the Pirates are able to perfect their cloning technique." Kryo looked down at the head, now completely frozen by the fog coming out of Kryo's sleeve. He lifted the head up into the air. "If any of the other clones are anything like this one though, I'll see to it that they meet the same fate."
With that, Kryo dropped the head. It plummetted to the deck and shattered into millions of tiny shards of ice with a very satisfying crunch.
  
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Plephart slowed the vehicle down steadily as we approached the silo.
"Take care Idle, I'll be back here in 48hrs, or sooner, depending on how quickly the lab is working these days." Plephart said with an incredulous look.
Idle chuckled, "Yeah, those guys have been sloppy since Surther went on vacation. I'll give 'em a call and tell 'em he's on his way down there. Maybe that'll get 'em motivated."
Idle stepped out of the MWX-45 light support vehicle and took a few steps to the closed force gate. The 60 cycle hum of the gate, in it's powered state, was drowned out as Plephart mashed the gas of the MWX-45 which left post haste for the lab.
Idle pulled out his communicator and punched a code which brought a kiosk up from the smooth concrete a few feet in front of the force gate. After applying his palm to the small screen on the kiosk, an 8 foot section of the force gate disappeared. Idle walked past the gate and the kiosk retired to its underground home and the force gate closed instantly.
The sun waned just above the horizon, still beating enough heat to produce sweat but not enough to burn unprotected skin. Idle walked around the silo entrance, looking for anything out of place. He has done this diligently since the possum incident at his home.
Finding nothing out of place he stepped through the door of the silo entrance. Inside was the usual; an elevator. He entered the elevator, pressed #SB-2 and then leaned back against the back wall of the car. Resting his head against the stainless steel wall, he closed his eyes as the car descended...
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"Joshua!" Idle yelled. "Boy, how many times do I have to tell you?! Quit firing your plasma darts at the neighbors dog!"
"Sorry.. Dad.. I.. Forgot..." Replied Joshua.
Immediately Idle knew something was amiss. He asked, "Josh, you OK pal?"
In an instant fear gripped Idle to his very core. What appeared to be his beloved son, Joshua was an ANZAC possum spybot, with a Bennington PDL-10 semi-auto plasma dart launcher pointed at Idle's head.
"Son of a..." muttered Idle. He slowly lifted his hands above his head following the directions of the possum. They began walking back to the house, Idle in front with his hands up and the possum scurrying behind with the dart launcher well aimed.
They reached the front door and the possum ordered Idle to go inside. He did and once inside, the poosum slammed the door and told Idle to get on his knees and put his hands on his head. Idle looked quizzically at the possum and began walking toward him.
The possum took a step forward and readied the dart launcher on his scrawny shoulder, "Halt I say!"
Idle continued towards the possum. The possum pulled the trigger but the weapon didn't fire, rather it emitted a series of three beeps.
"System memory!? Video Card?! What the!" exclaimed the possum looking at the weapon.
"Nope, neither." Idle said as he grabbed the possum spybot by the neck and lifted it off the ground. "I put an RFID system in this house and RFID tags in all the weapons. Unless it's in my hand, no tagged weapon will fire, in this house. Stupid possum, bring your own weapon next time." Idle shook his head and squeezed the spybot behind the ears and the bot powered down.
"Hmmm... New model. These things are getting more advanced everyday."
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The elevator stopped and the doors opened quickly. Idle shook his head and walked into the control room. Watching him as he walked in was Zoshan, kryofx.
"I thought you guys were on assignment... What’s going on?" Idle queried.
"That ANZAC bot you disabled? Well those ANZAC's aren't that smart, see, and they left prior code revisions and system logs in it's system cache." Kryofx said.
Zoshan chimed in, "The Freedom Force is born." Zoshan swiveled a computer monitor towards Idle. It read Link
  
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#247
by Citizen plephart - 7/16/2003 6:23:26 PM
Previously, aboard the MWS "Liberator", plephart and the rest of the MWC delegation make a hasty retreat from GROSS territory.
"I should have known that the retirement dinner for Staffa was a farce, that Spymaster is certainly a devious one. I wonder what he was truly up to? And using Drengin as their lackey’s…those lizards don’t deserve to live let alone be paid for their service, things had definitely gone downhill at GROSS. Still it was good to see Staffa and honor him as the best player in the metaverse and the Midwest too for that matter. With his reemergence, GROSS will certainly be a hard nut to crack."
Yes it was true, Staffa had turned from his Midwestern roots to become a pirate long ago and even nearly succeeded in merging our two empires into what would have surely become an insurmountable megaempire before the deal went bad. Things had been sour between GROSS and the MWC ever since, as each empire has vowed to be the end of the other.
"Well at least this has given me a chance to see some of GROSS’s inner planets and realize what a job we have ahead of us. They’re all loaded with nothing but morale and cultural resistance improvements…we sure won’t be using our information warfare invasion methods on any pirate colonies. Such a shame though, to see all of those planets going to waste without PQ or manufacturing improvements, such as we have here in the MWC. Such untapped potential…..
Later on after dropping off idleprocess in the MWC galactic research center….
"Dang, these pirates are good, we just can’t seem to close the gap on their lead over us!" exclaimed an exasperated Mercator.
"Patience fellow ‘sconnie’" sighed plephart, " They are a strong empire and their hatred for us will only fuel their score submissions even more than usual. We can only continue our steady pace of conquering neutral systems until we reach the GROSS border. There we shall truly test our mettle. But until then we need as much encouragement for our members as possible…here, help me broadcast this honor roll of score submissions from the past two days of neutral sector conquests.
Fleet Captain kryofx submitted a score of 12760 and moved up to 6th in the metaverse.
Commodore plephart submitted scores of 9750 and 11330 and moved up to 10th in the metaverse.
Commodore Jon50 submitted scores of 11070, 8650 and 10440 and moved up to 27th in the metaverse.
Commodore Gaminghyena submitted scores of 8080, 7640 and 7730 and moved up to 34th in the metaverse.
Fleet Captain Tim Holt submitted a score of 8940 and moved up to 86th in the metaverse.
Commander mojomatrix submitted a score of 4381 and moved up to 194th in the metaverse.
Commodore Sakic0828 submitted a score of 4484 and moved up to 261st in the metaverse.
That’s a total of 105,255 collective points added in the past two days, of course this is adjusted by the magical and ethereal metaverse scoring formula but needless to say that’s a good job folks. Yet after coming tantalizingly close to GROSS on Sunday night, we have now slipped to 35,000 points behind and have some work to do. The good news is that we have secured second place from the Undead Canadians and should not have to worry about them until Canada day rolls around again next year. Keep pluggin away MWC ers.
The MWC is always recruiting interested individuals who have a Midwestern state of mind and have no greater desire than to help us unseat GROSS and liberate the people of the metaverse. Just click here Link to join and see your name in the MWC honor roll.
Senator plephart
Come realize your 'Manifest Destiny' in The People's Empire
Join the Mid-Western Confederation at Link
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Nice one idle! And loved the news bulletin on the MWC site 
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#249
by Citizen CypherPax - 7/17/2003 11:11:08 AM
CypherPax stood in the massive hanger of the survey ship of Doom surrounded by a bunch of school children, Mid-Western school children. Cypher had thought the request was unusual, but the decent folk of the MWC had been interested in the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie and wanted their kids to experience the thrill of being on a space pirate vessel.
A wholesome toe-headed boy of 10 in suspenders, asked ‘Why do they call this the Survey Ship of Doom? It’s not a Survey Ship at all.’
‘That’s a good question, Tommy.’ replied CypherPax.
‘The bridge of the Survey Ship of Doom contains the original bridge of a PontiusBruinPilot’s survey ship. However, GROSS has long outgrown the ship. We have added on until the ship has gotten to it’s current size.’
A cute little blonde girl was half-hiding behind her teacher,
‘Are pirates bad?’ she asked.
Her teacher tried to hush her. Cypher said,
‘No, don’t worry. Other pirates are bad. We are good pirates… we rob from the rich and give to ourselves, the poor, unfortunate, kindhearted pirates of G.R.O.S.S. Gosh, we’re particularly a charitable organization.’
The class gasped at Cypher’s near use of a curse word, but it was evident that they went more comfortable.
A boy with a toy tractor asked ‘How big is the survey ship of Doom? Is it as big as an Excalibur?’
Cypher smiled, ‘The survey ship is even bigger than an Excalibur. It it over a mile long and has over 40 decks. You might wonder why we need such a big ship. However, there are a lot of evil people who that resent our friendly, generous disposition and don’t want us for neighbors. That’s the reason we wanted to show you are ship. To show you how kindly we are.’
Cypher smiled he had a fun afternoon planned. The class practiced climbing the rigging of a pirate ship model in the hold, they drank grape juice for tankards, and even got to walk the plank that had been set up over a swimming pool.
At the end of the tour, CypherPax took the Mid-westerner children back the hanger bay. It was getting close to happy hour and the pirates were checking back into the base.
‘Would you like to go for a ride on my survey ship?’ asked CypherPax. The class was excited about going on a real pirate ship. CypherPax explained to class that due to completely unfounded reputation of pirates, other ships avoided pirate vessels. To overcome that, pirates had souped up as harmless survery ships. CypherPax related how he had recently lost his survey ship to the Drendin and had lost 4 ships in the course of his career. He explained how this current ship was outfiited with an Attack of 12, and Defense of 15, a Speed of 6and 90 HPs. CypherPax bragged about how his experienced crew could handle a squadron of frigates.
CypherPax took the helm and popped into hyperspace after rapid acceleration to almost .5 of light speed. This would normally be reckless, but Cypher was a skilled pilot and this was well within the tolerances for the retrofitted pirate ship. Cypher then pulled a 4D phased trick that bent the rules of time and space.
‘Look, kids. We’ve actually slipped back in time a little and now have time visit the Freedom Force Petting Zoo before heading back to the MWC.’ The kids cheered. The teachers were impressed when CypherPax’s survey ship handling gently in the corn field next to the school less than an hour of local time after the field trip departed.
Once the kid’s were off the ship, CypherPax grinned evilly. His campaign of indoctrinating the children of Mid-West had begun.
Later that evening during dinner at IdleProcess’s home, IdleProcesses daughter proclaims, ‘I want to be a pirate when I grow up.’ IdleProcess chokes and before he can respond to his daughter, Plephart’s face appears on the phone.
‘We’re having an emergency town hall meeting tonight. Apparently, there are reports of our children reading the G.R.O.S.S. Communication thread on the Metaverse Forums. Hopefully, we can figure out how to stop this before they become lifelong miscreants.’
………………………………
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