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[Locked to Luceti Residents]
[The message is voiced, and then delivered minutes later in typed format courtesy of his secretary. Ain't she a peach?]
You blew it up, you maniacs! Ha. Sounded as good as I thought it would.
Yesterday, there was a big goddamn explosion in Region Nine. Seems the Iron Eye built quite the weapon. Enough that an entire city of cultists was wiped out of existence. Personally, I'm not shedding any tears over their loss. But the fact is, people are talking. Talking about who was involved. About the fact that a certain group of volunteers from a certain highly regarded enclosure managed to completely miss this during their investigation. Now, me, I don't like to lay blame at people. Maybe you people really are that incompetent. Hell, wouldn't be the first time you lot managed to bungle things.
Or maybe you helped blow those bastards out of existence. In which case? Have a drink on me. Seriously. I just approved two dozen kegs of high quality beer to arrive in your local pub. You're all going to need it, given how awful you must feel about yourselves. Congratulatory drink? Ha! Don't bet your life on it. Matter of fact, I'm making other arrangements. Psychotherapy for all of you. We'll put the best of the best to figure out what the hell is wrong with you people and get you back on the straight and narrow. Clearly all of you are unbalanced, going around turning into kids, blowing things up, and dealing with invasions.
Speaking of invasions - our bad. Turns out, our security wasn't as well secured as we liked. One of our own used his access codes to get in there. Count Zompano, as a matter of fact. Another thing that was bungled up. Well, we fixed it. Made the barriers harder to break than ever. If you don't believe me, go up to it and punch it as hard as you like. I'll bet you a hundred credits that if you do, your fist will bounce back into your face and break your nose. Which would be hilarious, but I don't recommend it. But if you do, bring a camera. Matter of fact, I'll give twenty mission points to the first person who gets me a picture of it. Honest to science I will.
Bad news, though. Extra security means that the defense system against natural Shifts isn't what it used to be. Fact is, it's operating at 99%. So if you happen to turn blue or freeze in place for a week, don't panic! It's perfectly normal and it will wear off. Probably. So please don't send us messages complaining to us about it. Fact is: we don't care. It just makes more work for my secretary to have to go through and delete them all. The poor woman is overworked enough.
Last order of business. Bilirubin, known to you as Sir Catherine, is a traitor to the organization and considered extremely dangerous. If any of you spot him, you give us a holler right away. We'll see to it you're properly awarded for doing so.
You blew it up, you maniacs! Ha. Sounded as good as I thought it would.
Yesterday, there was a big goddamn explosion in Region Nine. Seems the Iron Eye built quite the weapon. Enough that an entire city of cultists was wiped out of existence. Personally, I'm not shedding any tears over their loss. But the fact is, people are talking. Talking about who was involved. About the fact that a certain group of volunteers from a certain highly regarded enclosure managed to completely miss this during their investigation. Now, me, I don't like to lay blame at people. Maybe you people really are that incompetent. Hell, wouldn't be the first time you lot managed to bungle things.
Or maybe you helped blow those bastards out of existence. In which case? Have a drink on me. Seriously. I just approved two dozen kegs of high quality beer to arrive in your local pub. You're all going to need it, given how awful you must feel about yourselves. Congratulatory drink? Ha! Don't bet your life on it. Matter of fact, I'm making other arrangements. Psychotherapy for all of you. We'll put the best of the best to figure out what the hell is wrong with you people and get you back on the straight and narrow. Clearly all of you are unbalanced, going around turning into kids, blowing things up, and dealing with invasions.
Speaking of invasions - our bad. Turns out, our security wasn't as well secured as we liked. One of our own used his access codes to get in there. Count Zompano, as a matter of fact. Another thing that was bungled up. Well, we fixed it. Made the barriers harder to break than ever. If you don't believe me, go up to it and punch it as hard as you like. I'll bet you a hundred credits that if you do, your fist will bounce back into your face and break your nose. Which would be hilarious, but I don't recommend it. But if you do, bring a camera. Matter of fact, I'll give twenty mission points to the first person who gets me a picture of it. Honest to science I will.
Bad news, though. Extra security means that the defense system against natural Shifts isn't what it used to be. Fact is, it's operating at 99%. So if you happen to turn blue or freeze in place for a week, don't panic! It's perfectly normal and it will wear off. Probably. So please don't send us messages complaining to us about it. Fact is: we don't care. It just makes more work for my secretary to have to go through and delete them all. The poor woman is overworked enough.
Last order of business. Bilirubin, known to you as Sir Catherine, is a traitor to the organization and considered extremely dangerous. If any of you spot him, you give us a holler right away. We'll see to it you're properly awarded for doing so.
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As for these chuckleheads working beneath the law? Well, they'll get theirs. Actually, funny story. I attended a seminar once, back when I was new to the organization. "Johnson," they told me. "We hear you're a big deal back in your own world. You play by your own rules. Come work for us, you'll be able to do what you want!" Then they asked me to apply my science in a creative and inhumane way. So I cut open a rat. Completely skewered it. Hell, how should I know what I was doing? I'm not a goddamn surgeon. They never called me back. Prickly bastards. I ended up in the organization as a bean counter. Not with a calculator. I was on a farm. Counting beans. Worst way to spend the rest of my first life. But healthy, though. I was as strong as a bull when I went out. Stronger, even! I think we may have been putting steroids in the beans.
Anyway, point is, don't believe one crazy bastard who wants everyone dead. They're probably just bitter. Those scientists want the same thing everyone else do. Money, power, sex, and a way back to their own world. They just have no moral qualms about getting there. Hell, some might even call it noble. Mad and morally questionable. But noble.
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"So I cut open a rat." A real rat, of Zompano's idea of one? Him and his little mice.
Or maybe none of it's true. It's always hard to tell with CJ, and as interesting as Shikamaru finds him, he seems like one of the ones least on their side.]
What makes them a shadow organization, if that's all there is to it? No offense, but other than the contest of this Shift Bomb, you don't see a lot of moral debates among the rest of the Malnosso.
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What they don't know is that there's people out there already doing that.
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What I want is to stop them. I understand the cultists are the big fish, but given that this shadow group is a disaster waiting to happen.
[He's not convinced there isn't a connection there. Zompano was no doubt a Rogue, and he worked with the Cultists - it's not a stretch to think they would follow.
And if it's unfounded, the Rogues still suck, so.]
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