From RelayeR:
I hope you come up with a better ending here than the one presented in-game.

From MSKanaka:
A for effort, humor and suspense, F- for execution and results. >_>

So…what the hell happened?

[Tue Sep 19 20:29:15 2006] [100] <LeberMac> The final piece of the puzzle is now in place! All I have to do is press this button and the secrets of TGFT will be laid bare!
[Tue Sep 19 20:29:26 2006] [100] LeberMac attempts to press the button but misses...
[Tue Sep 19 20:29:29 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> Now let's see how he manages to screw it uo
[Tue Sep 19 20:29:31 2006] [100] <LeberMac> *hic*
[Tue Sep 19 20:29:32 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> up
[Tue Sep 19 20:29:44 2006] [100] LeberMac tries again, and presses the button! Automatic broadcasters cut in and announce to the universe the secrets of TGFT!
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:06 2006] [100] <LeberMac> The Message Reads...
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:06 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> Come on already Levermeat
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:08 2006] [100] <LeberMac> (drumroll)
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:11 2006] [100] <LeberMac> *** "DRINK MORE OVALTINE." -- Obsidian ***
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:20 2006] [100] LeberMac looks confusedly at the TGFT datapad.
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:21 2006] [100] Dr. Lecter nukes LeberMac
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:25 2006] [100] <Erik C.> Told ya
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:27 2006] [100] LeberMac shakes the datapad, which appears to be running a self-deletion virus at the moment.
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:33 2006] [100] <Erik C.> I knew Obsidian was out to get you
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:34 2006] [100] <LeberMac> no No NOOO!!
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:40 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> Moron
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:41 2006] [100] LeberMac screams at the datapad in fury!
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:41 2006] [100] <Nerde Verde> How many UPC codes did the decoder ring cost?
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:48 2006] [100] LeberMac watches as the datapad finishes deleting itself and burns out in a lame little fizzle.
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:57 2006] [100] Erik C. claps
[Tue Sep 19 20:30:57 2006] [100] <LeberMac> This can't be happening.
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:01 2006] [100] <Erik C.> Bravo
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:05 2006] [100] <LeberMac> This can't be real.
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:05 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> I hope you made a copy
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:07 2006] [100] <Erik C.> I liked this intermission
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:10 2006] [100] <IRC> * Miharu applauds as well.
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:10 2006] [100] <LeberMac> What have I done?
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:10 2006] [100] <IRC> <Mecha Touriuas> nice going dumbass
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:17 2006] [100] <IRC> <Miharu> Brilliant, Leebs.
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:18 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> Because I'm gonna kill you many times over for that one
[Tue Sep 19 20:31:53 2006] [100] <LeberMac> ...
[Tue Sep 19 20:32:01 2006] [100] <Nerde Verde> Anyone else have the urge to go buy a pink Axia Wraith?
[Tue Sep 19 20:32:04 2006] [100] <Dr. Lecter> Pesky itani swine
[Tue Sep 19 20:32:07 2006] [100] Waffles of Soggy claps at the wonderful performance
[Tue Sep 19 20:32:26 2006] [100] LeberMac passes out in shame and futility...

The headset crackled.

"Hey Ecka , you been following all this ? "

"Och , half an eye on space, half on the roids."

"well, a fine stitch up , shows no-one messes with TGFT "

"hmm"

Old Ecka made a note on the pad , 76 % lanth , vector from C5 , Third roid from left , NW quadrant , 1085 m . Yeild 120 to 62 k , 240 to 108 k. Sell: local , 1085 , 8 week cycle.

He smiled . A calvanistic gene reared its head across the millenia. Space is full of pilots looking for fools gold . Knowledge is power , it always was . But it comes at a price . You get out what you put in.

Och , next time he passed the Makchuga he would bung a few hundred credits onto Leber's slate .

He nooded respectfully at the calvanistic gene, and nudged the 'taur to the next roid..............

Ya know LeberMac... the more I read it (thanks for posting the log) The funnier it gets.

I guess I was hoping for more of an Obsidian downfall and more of a LeberMac triumph.

But, you with a triumph in life wouldn't be sticking too well to character.

I applaud you and retract my harsh criticism.

OOC: RR Yeah, you were right the first time, it was lamer than my usual lameness. ;) I wanted to finish it up and rushed it with little to no notice for it to conclude on "Talk Like A Pirate Day." You-know-who has been sick and not able to do a lot of intense thinking and/or writing, and some of the other participants are busy with schoolwork. So instead of letting it linger and die, I decided to cut it off cleanly. However, here's a cleaner version:

LeberMac peeked out of the ventilation duct in Pelatus Bunker and took a quick look around. His bribes to the station HVAC crew had worked up to a point, but soon he had run out of money and they had grumpily begun to shoo him out of the ducts. Soon the "shooing" had been transformed into a deathsport, after their repeated failures to "shoo" him anywhere. Last time they had almost cornered him in one of the sub-levels and turned the heat up to 350 K, luckily he'd been able to disable one of the heat exchangers and find a comfy exterior bulkhead near that area that partially shielded him from the extreme heat.

He was sure that after his galactically embarrassing screwup for [CLM], they'd had something to do with the Pelatus workers taking a keener interest in his demise. Of course, [TGFT] was still actively looking to eliminate him as well, but after the incident they had ceased to spend as many resources pursuing his extinction. So he'd stayed in-station for upwards of three weeks after sending his decoy ship into an asteroid in Sedina.

He still had the burn marks from the heating coils, but he was not dissuaded from his current living conditions. He'd learned to live on the water condensation from the A/C units and the scraps from the garbage chutes. The miners and loners that made their home in Pelatus were not the healthiest eaters, and LeberMac suspected that he might be suffering from scurvy. Which necessitated his current foray into the mess hall...

He pulled and struggled to yank himself out of the standard-issue TPG end-stage ventilation grate and stood with a hunched back in the glare of the station's hallway. Directly opposite him was the mess hall's kitchen entrance. He entered the same sequence of keys that he'd observed the cook make the night before, and made for the refrigeration units.

He opened the door and was greeted with a feast. Wondering how much he could take before the workers would notice, he located a citrus drawer, grabbed some limes and some Divinian oranges, and then made his way to dry goods to grab a half-empty sack of grain along with a box of dehydrated beef chips. Closing everything carefully and putting his goods in the grain sack, he was about to exit the kitchen when he noticed something else - the liquor cabinet.

How long had it been? He was surprised that he'd lost count. Three weeks? A month? He'd noticed the tremors when he was first living in the ducts, but he'd attributed it to the bone-chilling cold of living on one side of a bulkhead with the other side in vacuum. His metal prosthetic foot ached and his fingers twitched a bit. He stared at the tequila in the cabinet for a long time...

The far door moved. The breakfast shift of droids, robots, and workers was filtering into the mess hall. Breaking out of his reverie, he now had no time to make off with anything else. Ducking down, he slithered out of the kitchen door and was back into his duct within seconds. The grate was re-sealed and he quietly wriggled through the familiar ductwork to his slightly-larger space beneath the A/C condensers on Deck 6, and he feasted while he reflected on his encounter with the liquor cabinet.

Unbeknownst to LeberMac, a shadowy figure had been waiting in the hall watching him. "Yes. He's still here," the figure spoke softly into the microphone. "Understood. Maintain indefinite discreet observation." The dark form melted back into the nooks and crannies of Pelatus Bunker, content to continue with its mission for the time being.

As it had known would happen, basic metabolic demands drove the Itani out of the station's guts. The grate opened and LeberMac wriggled out at nearly the exact time predicted, early by only a few seconds. "Just like an Itani to give in early," the shadowed figure thought... "though at least he didn't blow a hole in the bulkhead and storm in like a Serco would."

Watching as LeberMac nearly got himself caught, mesmerized by the contents of the liquor cabinet, it saw the Itani slink back into the HVAC system with its haul of vitamin C and grain. It murmered directions into a mic and melted back into shadow.

There was still much time to wait.