Goonhub
09-23-2013, 09:31 AM
Started a round as captain. Realised there was only one thing to do: make omega weed and get the station high as all hell. I hurry over to the cargo bay and order the supplies needed before heading into Botany to commence work on the best weed known to mankind.
However, fate would not be so kind as I soon found out, glancing out the window just as a menacing-looking pod came flying by, its menacing red streaks contrasting heavily against the more peaceful blue I'm used to. Eyes widening as I realise what's up I send out a quick call over the radio announcing the presence of our unwanted guests. A second call for assistance to botany is intercepted by a jammer somewhere nearby and it's not long before the glass walls of botany are mercilessly shattered by a well-aimed shot, paving the way for their incursion into the station.
A moment of clarity hits me and I realise what their mission must be and I broadcast their intentions to the crew:
"Boys, it's the fuzz! They've come to stop our weeding operation!"
Perhaps not the wisest choice of words, but my fears were soon confirmed as their leader spoke up, confirming in no uncertain terms that yes, they were indeed space police on a drug bust. Myself and the crew began scrambling to prepare for their oncoming assault when a deal is offered to us. Their leader informs us that he and his crew will be peaceful members of the crew, all he wants in return is some of the "Best weed ever" and the Nuclear Authentication Disk in order to turn a blind eye towards our illegal activities.
It took some consideration, but I decided that his deal seemed fair enough, the disk being a useless trinket only good for taking up space on a good day, not to say I didn't have my doubts, of course; a drug bust can hardly be described as the best of days.
Any true leader would know that in order to obtain the respect of one's crew one must in turn respect their wishes and so I reach out to my comrades, asking if we want to take the deal. A scientist quickly pipes up, urging me to accept the offer, however more voices are quickly raised against this proposal. Concluding that the freedom to grow pot unimpeded by the authorities is very important to the crew I decline the policeman's offer, urging the crew to drive the fuzz off of the station. People quickly arm up and I hand out tasers to the general populace, getting ready to fight for our liberties and the right to get stoned wherever and whenever!
This is around the time that the long arm of the law decided that they were sick of our resistance and we are suddenly faced with the menacing prospect of several bombs being placed at key parts of the station, with the Chief Inspector warning us that they will detonate unless we accept their peaceful resolution. After this the situation soon becomes untenable and I hurriedly request that our trusty computer call the getaway driver. An alert is broadcast across the station, informing us that it would be ten minutes until we'd be able to get off of the station, out of reach of the law.
Relieved at knowing rescue was on its way I resumed patrolling the station, using my best effort to ensure my boys were safe and remained unarrested. This all went without incident, even though I could see officers moving around on the station exterior, using my pair of "borrowed" thermals. Eventually I was called to assist with a fight in genetics, assuming that The Man had come to arrest some of my crew I made my way there at haste only to find the sad sight of the geneticist and roboticist in a heated scuffle, each one claiming the other started it.
A heavy sigh later I yelled at them to sort themselves out, it being unacceptable with infighting during a police raid. The men seemed to agree and calmed down significantly, each one tending to their wounds.
With only five minutes remaining until the getaway vehicle was scheduled to arrive it seemed that the safest course of action would be to hole up in the Escape Arm, anticipating that any cop attempting a breach would be shot dead by my now armed-to-the-teeth crew. I had my bodyguards at my side, nothing could go wrong.
Except it did.
Before I knew it one of my trusted protectors slipped his hand into his backpack, emerging again with one of the largest revolvers I had ever seen. There was a huge bang, and I collapsed, the force of the bullet winding me and throwing me off my feet. I got a glance at the man as he looked down at me, ready to pull the trigger again and I realised my error: the cops had infiltrated us! This man was a mole!
BANG!
The second shot made me lose consciousness and my vision got blurry. Quick flashes of vision showed me that I was rapidly being dragged along the floor, to the external airlock where one of the redsuited officers took over and ferried me into space. The last thing I saw before succumbing to hypoxia was the redsuited man and the mole fishing out the disk from my bag and making a beeline to the east.
It wasn't long after that the distressing howl of a siren was heard and our glorious den had gone up in flames.
The cops had won and it was clear to us all: crime doesn't pay
Holy christ am I awful at writeups
However, fate would not be so kind as I soon found out, glancing out the window just as a menacing-looking pod came flying by, its menacing red streaks contrasting heavily against the more peaceful blue I'm used to. Eyes widening as I realise what's up I send out a quick call over the radio announcing the presence of our unwanted guests. A second call for assistance to botany is intercepted by a jammer somewhere nearby and it's not long before the glass walls of botany are mercilessly shattered by a well-aimed shot, paving the way for their incursion into the station.
A moment of clarity hits me and I realise what their mission must be and I broadcast their intentions to the crew:
"Boys, it's the fuzz! They've come to stop our weeding operation!"
Perhaps not the wisest choice of words, but my fears were soon confirmed as their leader spoke up, confirming in no uncertain terms that yes, they were indeed space police on a drug bust. Myself and the crew began scrambling to prepare for their oncoming assault when a deal is offered to us. Their leader informs us that he and his crew will be peaceful members of the crew, all he wants in return is some of the "Best weed ever" and the Nuclear Authentication Disk in order to turn a blind eye towards our illegal activities.
It took some consideration, but I decided that his deal seemed fair enough, the disk being a useless trinket only good for taking up space on a good day, not to say I didn't have my doubts, of course; a drug bust can hardly be described as the best of days.
Any true leader would know that in order to obtain the respect of one's crew one must in turn respect their wishes and so I reach out to my comrades, asking if we want to take the deal. A scientist quickly pipes up, urging me to accept the offer, however more voices are quickly raised against this proposal. Concluding that the freedom to grow pot unimpeded by the authorities is very important to the crew I decline the policeman's offer, urging the crew to drive the fuzz off of the station. People quickly arm up and I hand out tasers to the general populace, getting ready to fight for our liberties and the right to get stoned wherever and whenever!
This is around the time that the long arm of the law decided that they were sick of our resistance and we are suddenly faced with the menacing prospect of several bombs being placed at key parts of the station, with the Chief Inspector warning us that they will detonate unless we accept their peaceful resolution. After this the situation soon becomes untenable and I hurriedly request that our trusty computer call the getaway driver. An alert is broadcast across the station, informing us that it would be ten minutes until we'd be able to get off of the station, out of reach of the law.
Relieved at knowing rescue was on its way I resumed patrolling the station, using my best effort to ensure my boys were safe and remained unarrested. This all went without incident, even though I could see officers moving around on the station exterior, using my pair of "borrowed" thermals. Eventually I was called to assist with a fight in genetics, assuming that The Man had come to arrest some of my crew I made my way there at haste only to find the sad sight of the geneticist and roboticist in a heated scuffle, each one claiming the other started it.
A heavy sigh later I yelled at them to sort themselves out, it being unacceptable with infighting during a police raid. The men seemed to agree and calmed down significantly, each one tending to their wounds.
With only five minutes remaining until the getaway vehicle was scheduled to arrive it seemed that the safest course of action would be to hole up in the Escape Arm, anticipating that any cop attempting a breach would be shot dead by my now armed-to-the-teeth crew. I had my bodyguards at my side, nothing could go wrong.
Except it did.
Before I knew it one of my trusted protectors slipped his hand into his backpack, emerging again with one of the largest revolvers I had ever seen. There was a huge bang, and I collapsed, the force of the bullet winding me and throwing me off my feet. I got a glance at the man as he looked down at me, ready to pull the trigger again and I realised my error: the cops had infiltrated us! This man was a mole!
BANG!
The second shot made me lose consciousness and my vision got blurry. Quick flashes of vision showed me that I was rapidly being dragged along the floor, to the external airlock where one of the redsuited officers took over and ferried me into space. The last thing I saw before succumbing to hypoxia was the redsuited man and the mole fishing out the disk from my bag and making a beeline to the east.
It wasn't long after that the distressing howl of a siren was heard and our glorious den had gone up in flames.
The cops had won and it was clear to us all: crime doesn't pay
Holy christ am I awful at writeups