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 The Rimaldi Gambit

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Phlegm

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Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: The Rimaldi Gambit   Mon 21 Dec - 12:34:12

The Rimaldi Gambit

Well back to Paschendale and the war goes on. Sar seems to be very focussed on one of his little projects and slips away with the walking grenade fest that is Thud leaving just Skarl aboard, meditating.* He finds a sleeping sentry close to the ship and after a brief struggle with Thud who favours a grenade orientated approach, he knocks out the luckless guard and the pair of them haul him back towards the ship.

*At least we think that’s what she said

They are challenged by a cavalry patrol but use number 22 from the old cliché playbook of deception.* This surprisingly works despite the fact that the cavalry officer points out that drinking is a punishable offence, but the child slayer does the old Puss in Boots eyes trick** and it works.

*Sorry officer my friend’s had one over the eight we’re just making sure he gets home like the best mates we are and are not at all dragging him away to be horribly murdered.
**Number 61


On arriving back aboard the nefarious kidnappers having added alien abduction to their already scandalous CVs secure their guest in the medical bay and Sar even goes shipwide announcing that a minor incident has taken place requiring temporary quarantine of the sickbay. He really wants no witnesses to this one. Skarl lost in her reverie frankly couldn’t care less.*

*Of meditation

The guard awakens to find himself naked save a modest loin cloth that would probably embarrass Jenna Jameson and strapped securely to the examination table, in a way that probably would not embarrass M/s Jameson.*

*Admittedly the list of ways to strap her to a table that would cause her embarrassment is as short as Thud’s well known dissertation on problems and situations that a well-placed grenade cannot sort out.

Before you can say ‘No, I expect you to die Mr Bond’ we are back in the trenches where Corbyn and his new robotic best friend S.A.M.U.E.L are still puzzling over the mysterious Private Wood.* A Captain Anson appears and in conversation it emerges that Private Wood has led something of a charmed life, the sole survivor of her original company, she’s made it through seven major assaults on a frontline where the average lifespan of an infantry grunt is sixteen hours. Another attack, her eighth and our first is only a few hours away.

*No trespassing

Back on the trusty SS Company ship Sar and Thud are mopping up the pile of blood and gore their prisoner has recently disintegrated into after Sar tried some of his special medicinal compound out for efficacy.* No wonder he hadn’t bothered calling for volunteers.

*About as effective as Viagra is at curing chicken pox then.


Sar is less than happy as he was not looking for ways of melting people horribly in ten minutes of less, though with his track record we can look forward to more tests no doubt in the hope that he will eventually appear on the radar of head hunters for Huntingdon Life Sciences.

Meanwhile back on the front Captain Anson blows her trusty whistle, secure in the knowledge that it will protect her from the ordnance and shrapnel filling the air now as we pour over the top wearing our trusty blue armbands that ensure that only the correct people will be shot or blown up by the explosive packed atmosphere.

Corbyn and S.A.M. follow Wood, but she seems possessed and is quickly out distancing them, seemingly avoiding the barbed wire entanglements with ease, leaping small shell holes with a single bound, leading a charmed life avoiding mines, bullets and shells with equal aplomb and out pacing the rest of the blueband (margarine?) division even as they are thinned in number by the deadly swathes of enemy fire.

Eventually our heroes give up and pause in a water filled crater that offers some brief cover. The preliminary barrage that seemed terrifyingly efficient to us before we put our heads over the parapet appears only to have invigorated the enemy machine gunners and added zest to the enthusiasm of the red band artillery crews.

Captain Anson joining us in the mud now calls in a smokescreen to assist our situation, sadly this proves ineffective at deflecting enemy armaments though it does give a sporting chance to one or two. Sadly this does not include S.A.M., clipped by a bullet, or Captain Anson, for whom a modest size 7 shoebox should provide a more than adequate coffin following her unsuccessful attempt to occupy the same cubic metre of the multiverse as a 155mm howitzer shell as it detonated.*

*Do not attempt this sort of thing at home unless you are a trained professional/ untrained suicide bomber

Reassured by the fact that our casualty rate has fallen from about 80 to 50% thanks to the smokescreen we race forward* again towards strange mutli coloured fire coming from the direction of Private Wood. On arrival in the area a remarkable sight greets us: The truth-struck private is floating over the enemy trench pouring purple fire from her fingertips into the fortifications blasting an intense napalm like wave of destruction through the enemy position.

*Although crawling forward would be a more truthful description

Corbyn calls on her to reveal the truth and…she does. The android or whatever he is and our cheeky chappy navigator suddenly find themselves floating upward …and upward. Below they can see the truth seekers are breaking. Despite 90% casualties the empaths (blue) are breaking through, the enemy artillery is limbering up to withdraw and blue cavalry units are attacking to exploit the disintegrating enemy line.

Wood and our startled heroes are still floating upward, out of range, then yet higher. After half an hour Corbyn spies a starship in low orbit, their apparent destination. Curiously, everyone is still breathing easily despite the stratospheric altitude. They bump now against an airlock which admits them and pressurises.

They find themselves guests of the Rimaldi. Heavily armed troops take away the semi comatose Wood who has collapsed and a scientist who introduces himself as Talwa Ceti welcomes the travellers aboard.

He furnishes us with a large number of answers to our questions: The Rimaldi are using this planet as a test bed for their operations to see if they can spread discord and persuade a populace to war to the end over whatever they choose. It seems to be going quite well. The plan is to get planetary populations to destroy themselves before the Rimaldi colonise. No need for the Rimaldi to mount a messy costly invasion therefore and it avoids nasty damage to the planet too.

To explain further an automaton with a human head arrives guarded by a 9’ tall super trooper type. Corbyn and S.A.M. have not met the lady whose head is attached to the metal bodywork, but recognise her name: It’s friend of the show, Yodmani Rey, she who was heroically decapitated when the crew undertook that heroic mission to wipe out the three huge Rimaldi coloniser ships and their millions of passengers who were going to…oops, reading that back the word Rimaldi appears unfortunate at this point. Could be some trouble ahead here?

Back on the ship Thud and Sar ignore several urgent com calls from a surprisingly calm S.A.M. until eventually Skarl picks up. Everyone is invited aboard the Rimaldi ship and the Company Ship takes off and docks shortly thereafter allowing the crew to reunite in the library for the denouement and to learn the identity of the murderer.*

*It’s Sar obviously

After the revelations, Yodmani explains that the Rimaldi have been monitoring the Company Ship for ‘some time’. They wish to employ us to act as deniable assets in their fiendish plot to assimilate the Marquess Republic.* This involves extreme risk, moderate reward including cash and a new ship and what will probably be a stealthy approach.

*This account will self-destruct in five seconds

The Rimaldi, building on research from the Lab, accidentally destroyed after our visit of course and manipulation of various life forms including the insect creatures plan to infect cultures causing their self-destruction.* Nanites are also involved and Corbyn is feeling a little sheepish as his truth seeking urges were clearly artificially induced as part of the Rimaldi plot.

*Probably not in five seconds

So as we sit in the library of the Rimaldi Shogunate cruiser Spear of Truth feeling very used and abused we are faced with a decision: Do we accept this shameless manipulation and totally amoral approach by the Shogunate and accept the massive financial inducements on offer to make us agents of this nefarious plot against a sovereign nation, or take a stand regardless of consequences to ourselves for truth justice and the American way?*

*Seriously? You’re asking that? Have you not read anything up to this point?


So we agree to the half a million in expenses, the 10,000 per mission expenses and 15,000 each and the super dupa new ship which we christen the Maverick War Bastard, or Maverick for short in memory of some guy who used to fly with us.*

*Whose name escapes me right now.

Mindful of our stealth strategy we load up with heavy weapons and power armour, particularly Skarl who seems obsessed with the need to acquire the heaviest weapons available, and everything by the hundred. S.A.M. weighs in with a heavy machine gun and we load up with vehicles, everything you can think of and quite a few that you can’t.

We of course demand strict conditions to ensure that our integrity and moral position is clear from the outset, making it totally clear that we may need more money if these rock solid principles are to be compromised in any way. (As long as that’s ok with you?). One mind wipe later (The Rimaldi were a little free and frank with us and quite understandably certain memories of these conversations had to be deleted), and we are ready to do whatever our new masters desire. (As long as the money is right of course.)

This account will self-destruct at some point.

18.12.15
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