Ship Shape

[Redspear]

Brilliant! Thank you!

You're welcome. Glad you like it.

[Redspear]

Once heard this asked in a (space) bar. Everyone was arguing until this old guy started to speak...

See, when folks ask ya that question, ya gotta ask yerself what they're really asking ya, if ya see what I mean. But anyway, yer asking me so maybe you want me to tell ya the answer or maybe it's you that wants to tell me. All academic ya might say

For me, and I've no doubt on this having been in all of 'em and flown most of 'em, it's simple. The worm is the best ship in the eight.

Now I know that some folks will pick a 'classic' like the python, as if the backstory's part of the attraction; others favour new-fangled technology, the kind you'll find in a fer-de-lance or cobra three. Then there's the 'best of' bunch who'll pick the fastest or the biggest or the toughest; and we've all met that guy who'll surprise ya, with somethin' sounds crazy, just waitin' to tell ya why

It's cos in the worm there's me and no other... or maybe one other, all the mod-cons I could wish for and nothin' else save for privacy: rarest comodity there is outside of an escape pod but who wants to be in one of those any more than bein' in stasis? See, the worm's too slow to even knock a hair out of place, too small for worrying about cargo or crew and too vulnerable to travel alone - so it doesn't.

Luxury ain't the usual word most folks think of when considerin' the worm but then most folks never flew in one. The most luxurious vessels imaginable will still equip a small fleet of worms. When ya next visit the observation deck on that fancy cruise ship, imagine having it all to yerself: drifting safely and securely, free for yer mind to wander where it will while the folks elsewhere see to everything for ya. Can't do that in a cobra, my friend.

Sure, you can turn on the auto-pilot in yer fer-de-fancy-pants but you've still got to worry about everything else because it's all on you. Most of them guys can't even bear the thought of scratching the paintwork, never mind losing a shield. Fact is, in a worm, whatever it is, chances are someone else is doin' it for ya, all discreet mind, in some other ship, not bothering ya across the coms all the time. Even them miner's have the cobras do the scoopin' while they stick to the shootin'.

Besides, ain't no paint job to speak of on a worm: that thing looks like a bashed up cargo pod to begin with and that's exactly as it should be. Privacy doesn't draw attention to itself unnessarily: tinted viewscreens that run the length of your ship will tend to do that Mr. Zorgan Petterson; twelve rules for ship design indeed...

I've heard so many folks tell me that ya ain't lived until you've flown a this, that or the other (and some of 'em may even have a point) but I'll tell ya what little I do know. When ya really have lived then you'll appreciate bein' in a worm. Nothin' better my friend, nothin' better...

[Cholmondely]

Once heard this asked in a (space) bar. Everyone was arguing until this old guy started to speak...

See, when folks ask ya that question, ya gotta ask yerself what they're really asking ya, if ya see what I mean. But anyway, yer asking me so maybe you want me to tell ya the answer or maybe it's you that wants to tell me. All academic ya might say

For me, and I've no doubt on this having been in all of 'em and flown most of 'em, it's simple. The worm is the best ship in the eight.

Now I know that some folks will pick a 'classic' like the python, as if the backstory's part of the attraction; others favour new-fangled technology, the kind you'll find in a fer-de-lance or cobra three. Then there's the 'best of' bunch who'll pick the fastest or the biggest or the toughest; and we've all met that guy who'll surprise ya, with somethin' sounds crazy, just waitin' to tell ya why

It's cos in the worm there's me and no other... or maybe one other, all the mod-cons I could wish for and nothin' else save for privacy: rarest comodity there is outside of an escape pod but who wants to be in one of those any more than bein' in stasis? See, the worm's too slow to even knock a hair out of place, too small for worrying about cargo or crew and too vulnerable to travel alone - so it doesn't.

Luxury ain't the usual word most folks think of when considerin' the worm but then most folks never flew in one. The most luxurious vessels imaginable will still equip a small fleet of worms. When ya next visit the observation deck on that fancy cruise ship, imagine having it all to yerself: drifting safely and securely, free for yer mind to wander where it will while the folks elsewhere see to everything for ya. Can't do that in a cobra, my friend.

Sure, you can turn on the auto-pilot in yer fer-de-fancy-pants but you've still got to worry about everything else because it's all on you. Most of them guys can't even bear the thought of scratching the paintwork, never mind losing a shield. Fact is, in a worm, whatever it is, chances are someone else is doin' it for ya, all discreet mind, in some other ship, not bothering ya across the coms all the time. Even them miner's have the cobras do the scoopin' while they stick to the shootin'.

Besides, ain't no paint job to speak of on a worm: that thing looks like a bashed up cargo pod to begin with and that's exactly as it should be. Privacy doesn't draw attention to itself unnessarily: tinted viewscreens that run the length of your ship will tend to do that Mr. Zorgan Petterson; twelve rules for ship design indeed...

I've heard so many folks tell me that ya ain't lived until you've flown a this, that or the other (and some of 'em may even have a point) but I'll tell ya what little I do know. When ya really have lived then you'll appreciate bein' in a worm. Nothin' better my friend, nothin' better...

Goodness! You poor, poor chap... what on earth did they do to you? It was the witchspace lobster and associated fanatics, am I right?

[Redspear]

Goodness! You poor, poor chap... what on earth did they do to you? It was the witchspace lobster and associated fanatics, am I right?

There comes a time, commander, when the gem stones cease to sparkle, when the gold loses its luster, when the command console becomes a prison, and all that is left is a pilot's love for his worm.